Only in Oklahoma (At the Altar Book 6)

by Kirsten Osbourne

  "All over." He kissed her again, more insistently this time. His hands stroked down her side to the hem of her nightgown, lifting it slowly. "Let's make you naked too."

  She didn't answer as he kissed his way down the side of her neck toward the low neckline of her gown.

  "I'm not stopping this time," he told her, a glint in his eye she hadn't noticed before. He looked positively naughty.

  "I don't want you to!" She caught his head and brought him down for another kiss. Her tongue ventured out for the first time to touch his. She felt positively decadent, when he inhaled and pulled her closer.

  There was a loud knock at the door. "Housekeeping!"

  She jumped.

  "Ignore them. They'll go away," he told her, praying he was right. He didn't want to stop.

  "Did you put out the 'Do not disturb' sign?" Her fingers sank into his hair and she pulled his head down for another kiss.

  He shook his head. "I can't remember if I did or not." Kissing her again, he jumped away from her when the door opened.

  "Oh, excuse me. So sorry!" The maid rushed out of the room.

  He groaned, rolling to his side of the bed. "Well, that ruined the mood." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Let's go get breakfast and walk on the waterfront. We'll find your taffy and play tourist. We can come back and finish this after they've cleaned the room." He stalked to the bathroom, and though she knew she should avert her eyes, Michaela enjoyed the sight of him walking away from her.

  He glanced over his shoulder just as he reached the bathroom. "Caught you looking," he said with a wink, closing the door behind him.

  She shook her head at the closed door, rushing to dress while he was still in the bathroom. She was in jeans and a tee shirt when he came out twenty minutes later, playing a quick game on her phone.

  She was almost afraid to look up, but when she did, she saw he had wrapped a towel around his waist. She let out a whistle, and he laughed. "Don't tempt me to take this thing off. I just took the coldest shower known to man." His voice was so disgruntled, she was more amused than ever.

  She giggled. "Did it help?"

  "For the moment. I feel like the whole world is conspiring to keep me from making love to my wife!"

  "I'm hungry anyway. We'll get breakfast and then go explore."

  He dropped his towel, and she immediately averted her eyes. She was curious, but she knew he'd make fun of her if he saw her looking again. "You keep peeking, but when I try to show you, you don't look. I'll never understand the mind of a woman." He shook his head at her.

  "I have emails I need to read," she said, staring at her phone.

  He just laughed, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. "We should build a sandcastle while we're here. I've never done that on a beach before. Only in sandboxes, and that's boring." There were only two things on his honeymoon bucket list: Building a sandcastle and making love to his wife. Both could be accomplished in a matter of hours.

  She shrugged. "That would be fun." She'd done it a million times, growing up as close to the ocean as she had, but she didn't mind doing it all over again. She was certain it would be more special with him.

  They left the room, and Michaela blushed when she saw the maid in the hall. "So sorry!" the maid said again.

  Jon grinned. "It's fine. We're on our honeymoon."

  "Use the sign next time," she told him with a grin.

  "I won't forget!"

  They went to the elevator and when he saw they were the only people in it, he pulled her to him, kissing her again. "I've always wanted to make out in an elevator."

  She laughed. "You have a lot of strange things you want to do." She was happy to do all of them—or at least all of them she'd heard so far. She never knew what he was going to come up with next.

  He shrugged. "I've been a single man for a long time. Fantasies sometimes happen."

  They found the restaurant at the bottom of the elevator, going right in. "Table for two?" the hostess asked, a smile on her face.

  "Yes, please," Jon said. They followed her to a table and sat down, picking up the menus. "Is there anything New Englandy I need to try for breakfast?"

  "Boston baked beans or corned beef hash."

  "I've had corned beef hash, but Boston baked beans could be interesting." He shrugged, looking through his menu until he found a meal including them. "Oh, this breakfast has fish cakes and baked beans. I'll have that."

  She grinned. "Feeling adventurous?"

  "Always." He reached across the table and gripped her hand. "What are you having?"

  "Two eggs over medium, hash browns, and bacon. Because bacon."

  "Are you a bacon fan?"

  She nodded. "Show me someone who isn't, and I'll show you a traitor to our great nation." Michaela gave him a look that seemed to be asking if he was a bacon lover.

  He laughed. "I like bacon. Don't look at me." He held his hands up as if to ward off her look.

  The waiter stopped at their table. "Can I start you with some coffee?"

  "Yes, please," Michaela said. She couldn't even begin to start her day without her usual pot of coffee.

  "Just orange juice for me," Jon responded.

  While the waiter was off getting their drinks, Michaela looked at Jon. "Are you not a coffee drinker?"

  He shrugged. "I used to be, but I felt like I was relying on it too heavily, and cut myself off."

  "No coffee? Not even decaf?"

  "I never much cared for the taste. I just wanted the kick start to my system. I do better without it."

  "That's—well, that's just un-American! It's like being a bacon hater!" She shook her head at him. "I should have had Lachele ask you about that before I agreed to marry you. I feel so betrayed!"

  He grinned. "How do you know Dr. Lachele? You seem very familiar with her."

  "I've known her since she taught my Sunday school class when I was seven. She's awesome."

  "Oh! Does she go to your church?" It had never occurred to him she'd known the older woman outside of Matchrimony.

  "Yeah. Well, my old church. I'm assuming I'll be a member of your church now."

  He chuckled softly. "If you weren't, my congregation would question me."

  "I'm really glad that I'll know someone there. I used to go to lunch with Lachele and Samara all the time. I've missed Samara." She was looking forward to having long lunches with her friend again, or if not long lunches at least they could see each other some of the time.

  "She's really sweet. Have you met Henry yet?"

  "No, I haven't had the pleasure. I'm looking forward to it, though." She grinned. "Lachele told me Samara is knocked up and waddling around like a bow-legged duck."

  Jon laughed despite himself. "That woman has no filter, does she?"

  "Lachele? Not that I've seen. It's part of her charm, though. She keeps me laughing."

  The waiter brought a pot of coffee and a mug for Michaela and a carafe of orange juice for Jon. "Have you decided?"

  They placed their order, and the waiter wandered off again. "So what do you want to do today?" Michaela asked. She loved the idea of playing tourist there with him, showing him Plymouth Rock and just generally enjoying herself.

  "Go back upstairs and finish what we've started—twice. I'll settle for wandering around the waterfront this morning and coming back to take a nice long nap instead."

  She blushed, but nodded. "That sounds like a really good plan to me."

  He brought her hand to his lips. "We're going to get this marriage consummated if it kills us both."

  "I hope we don't die in the middle of it. I'd die again of embarrassment when we were found that way." She could imagine her mother's reaction to being told she'd died while consummating her marriage. It was not something she cared to think about.

  He laughed, shaking his head. "No, because if we die consummating, we can't do it again!"

  "Tell me about your church," she said, changing the subject abruptly.

  "Well, it's in
Teaville, Kansas. It's a small non-denominational church. I was called there a couple of years ago, and I like it, but I don't quite feel like I belong there yet."

  "Why not?" she asked, surprised at his words.

  "It's mostly married couples and families. A lot of the young Christian women in the area started attending when they found out a young single pastor was there, but it just made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to be chased after and pursued."

  She grinned. "That makes a lot of sense to me."

  "Why did you decide to see Lachele about finding you a husband?" he asked. He'd been wondering about that since the moment he'd seen her walking down the aisle toward him. She was too beautiful to need a matchmaker to find a husband.

  "Lachele came to me and told me she'd found the man of my dreams. She said I was exactly what you wanted, and you were exactly what I needed, so I went to her office and did an abbreviated interview, and she had my mom meet us to shop for wedding dresses. Ten days ago. I argued a lot, but now I think I'm glad she won." It had been a whirlwind of a week and a half. Sometimes it seemed like she'd agreed to marry him just yesterday, and sometimes it felt like it had been years that she'd spent getting ready.

  He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Does she usually go out and recruit wives for men?"

  Michaela shook her head emphatically. "She told me this was the first time she'd ever done it, but it would be a shame if she couldn't match you with the woman you were meant to be with."

  "How did your mom feel about it?"

  "She was all for it. She said it would be nice to finally have grandkids. Of course, my sister has two kids, but they're ugly, so—it's up to us to have pretty babies, I guess. My dad was the nervous one, but he trusts Lachele."

  After breakfast, they walked along the waterfront, a beautiful little stretch of beach and shops. "We should get tee shirts," she told him, dragging him into one of the small shops. "And taffy. We can't be here and not eat the taffy."

  Ten minutes later they were walking out of the store with two tee shirts and a small bag of taffy. "You're going to be so happy with this taffy," she told him. "I had it when I came here to visit my friend, Brenda, a couple of summers ago. It's impossible to eat just one piece."

  Her excitement over the sweet made him smile. He loved watching her, because she got so animated. "I'm sure I'll love it."

  She pulled him into another store and found a silly-looking lobster hat. She tried it on and posed while he took a picture with his cell-phone. Then she put a turkey hat on him, standing on tiptoe to make sure it was just right. "Oh, you look so—handsome in that. Yes, handsome is the right word. Totally not silly!" She pulled out her camera and snapped a picture. "Look! We have honeymoon photos!"

  "Michaela, is that you?" a voice asked from behind her.

  She spun around. "Brenda! It's so good to see you!" She hugged her friend tightly. "What are you doing?"

  Brenda shrugged. "I'm working on the waterfront until I find a real job."

  "Works for me." Michaela turned and grabbed Jon's hand, pulling him forward. "This is my husband, Jon."

  Brenda gawked. "Husband? You weren't even dating anyone three weeks ago when we talked last!"

  Michaela laughed. "Yeah, there's this woman at my church who has a matchmaking service, and she matches people up and introduces them at the altar. She found my perfect man, and recruited me to marry him." She rested her head against Jon's shoulder for a minute. "Jon, this is my friend, Brenda."

  Jon nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Brenda." He hoped Michaela knew better than to make plans with her friend while they were there. They had to fly home Saturday, so they only really had two days left in Plymouth. He didn't want to waste them spending time with her friend.

  "How long are you in town for?" Brenda asked.

  "Just 'til Saturday," Michaela said with a frown. "Very short honeymoon, but he's a pastor, and we need to be home for Sunday service."

  Brenda sighed. "I'm working all day today and have plans with some friends tonight. Tomorrow I have the night shift. I wish I'd known you were coming. I'd have tried to make some time to get together."

  Michaela smiled. "Trust me, I don't know that I would have felt right abandoning my husband on our honeymoon anyway. We'll see each other next time."

  "Oh, I didn't think of that. Go honeymoon. Have fun!" Brenda made a shooing motion with her hands. "Have extra fun for me!"

  Michaela laughed. "Where can we get a pail and shovel? This man has never built a sand castle on a beach."

  Brenda grinned. "I happen to have one in my car. I took a friend's kid to the beach last weekend and forgot to take it out. Let me get you my keys. And don't worry about bringing the bucket back. I'm working and I can splurge and buy myself another."

  She hurried into the back room and came back, giving her keys to Michaela. "I do need my keys back, though."

  "I'll bring them back." Michaela hurried into the parking lot, realizing Jon was right beside her. "You do still want to build a sand castle, right?"

  "Well, I want to drag you back to the hotel, but I don't want to pass up the opportunity to spend a little time on the beach." He winked, trying to make her blush.

  Michaela stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "We can make love at home. We can't play on the beach there. We'll just spend an hour, and then we'll go to our room."

  He nodded. "That sounds fair. Your friend seems nice."

  "Oh, she is. We were suitemates my first semester of college. I like her a lot." She opened the trunk of Brenda's car and found the pail and shovel. "Here it is. I'm going to run the keys back in."

  "I'll wait here." He took the pail from her, and waited while she ran into the store to see her friend. She was back a minute later. "Beach now?"

  She frowned. "I think we should see Plymouth Rock, and then the beach. Come on. It'll only take us five minutes to get there." She took his hand and walked with him toward the monument to the famous rock.

  "Every time I've heard someone talk about going to see it, they've said that it was so much smaller than they expected," he said. "I'm almost afraid to see it, because I don't want it to be a letdown."

  She shrugged. "I'd heard the same thing, but it didn't matter to me. I saw it, and I was in awe of the history behind it anyway. You can't not see it."

  "All right. But if I get my sense of history all hurt, you'll have to kiss it better."

  "Your sense of history can be hurt? Oh my. I've never even heard of such a thing. How about I just plan to kiss it better?"

  "That works for me actually."

  She shook her head, pulling him toward the small wooden structure built around the rock. "People kept stealing pieces of the rock, so they had to build this around it," she explained.

  He looked down at the famous rock and smiled. "You know what? It's actually bigger than I expected. People are just difficult."

  She laughed. "That's the conclusion I came to when I saw it for the first time as well."

  "Everyone should be more like us," he told her.

  She nodded. "Okay, sandcastle time! Let's go to the stretch of beach in front of the hotel. That'll be fun."

  He nodded, walking along with her. "Can we build a good castle in just an hour?"

  "Oh sure. As long as it doesn't have to be bigger than we are." She stopped and picked up a stick that had come from a popsicle. "We'll need this."

  He looked at the stick. "For what?"

  "Turrets!"

  He just laughed and shook his head. "You're going to go all out for this castle, aren't you?"

  "Of course!"

  An hour later, he proclaimed the castle complete. "I am the mighty king, and I have chosen my beautiful princess to rule over the land with me!"

  "I was a princess yesterday," she said, curling her lip. "Today, I'm a queen!"

  "Queen Michaela, and her daring rescuer, King Jon!"

  Michaela did her best to strike a queenly pose, but her stomach growled, ruining the effect complete
ly. "I'm hungry."

  He sighed. "I thought we were going back to the room as soon as we finished building the castle."

  "Well, we could go there and order room service, or we could go get authentic New England lobster rolls." She looked up at him with a grin. "You won't regret it!"

  He groaned. "I already do. Lead the way, my queen!" While he didn't particularly care to eat just then, he couldn't let her starve to death.

  Ten minutes later, they were walking down the waterfront toward the hotel. "This looks nothing like I expected it to," he said, frowning at the lobster roll in his hand.

  Michaela chewed up the bite in her mouth, swallowing hard. "What did you expect?"

  He shrugged. "Something more like a crab cake, I guess." He continued to stare at the hotdog bun in his hand with tiny pieces of lobster in mayonnaise in it. Very strange.

  "Just try it! You'll like it!"

  He took a bite, chewing it slowly. "It is good. Strange, but good."

  "I'm glad you like it!" She took another bite of her lobster roll. "And see? Now we'll have energy for a very long nap." She grinned at him as she threw away the little cardboard container the roll had been served in.

  He threw away his trash as well, and they headed toward the front of the hotel. "Our room should be cleaned by now. I'll put out the sign as soon as we get up there."

  She nodded, blushing a little. She couldn't believe they'd already been married for twenty-four hours, but yet she felt like she'd known him forever. As soon as they were in the elevator, he kissed her. "You and your elevator fetish," she said with a grin.

  "I don't have an elevator fetish. I just—I've imagined being married to the girl who was right for me for so long that I've dreamed up a lot of places where I should be kissing her."

  "Who would have thought a pastor would have such an active fantasy life?"

  He swatted her bottom lightly. "Who would have thought a children's minister would be all over her husband in an elevator?"

  "Hey, you started it." She rushed out of the elevator toward their room as soon as the doors opened. Their room was neatly made up when they walked in, and she went and stood looking out the window at the beach for a moment. "I love the ocean. It's going to be hard to live so far from it."