by Bella Scott
“So… are you going to tell us why you called us here?” asked Morgan, raising her cup to her lips.
“In just a minute,” said Rose. “We’ve got one more person coming.”
Beneath the table, she fiddled with the ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. She glanced down at it and studied it in the light from the cone-shaped fixture above their table. The ring was white gold with a large, round diamond at its center and lines of them inlaid in the band on either side. She’d never asked Luke how much it was worth, but she had a suspicion she didn’t want to know.
At the sound of a bell tinkling, she looked up to find Beatrice hurrying in, a design portfolio in her arms. She wore a cream-colored suit, and her curls bounced as she walked.
“Sorry,” she said as she slid into the booth beside Rose. “Didnae want to forget anythin’. I’m goin’ to the office from here.” She glanced around the table and blinked. “Good mornin’, all.”
“I’m getting more suspicious by the second,” said Lenore, who leaned forward to drum her French-painted fingernails on the table. “What’s going on?”
Rose pulled in a deep breath. Her pulse was quick, and she felt it in her throat. She reminded herself that she had no reason to be nervous—each of these women had only ever been supportive to her.
“Well,” she began slowly, “as you know, things have been… pretty crazy lately.”
“If you mean that we’ve all gotten secondhand anxiety just thinking about what you’ve been dealing with,” said Morgan, “then yes.”
Rose’s lips twitched. “Glad you understand that it’s been rough. But sorry about all the stress.”
“It’s worth it if it means things are going back to normal,” said Lenore.
Beatrice nodded, and Rose braced herself with her hands on her knees, hoping none of them could pick up on her nerves.
“Actually, things are better than normal,” she said. “Before I say why, though, I want to make sure you all know exactly how much I appreciate you.”
“Aye, we do,” said Beatrice, an air of excited impatience to her words. “Ge’ on with it.” She elbowed Rose playfully, and as her eyes fell on Rose’s hands beneath the table, they widened. Beatrice caught her breath.
Rose felt herself starting to blush, and she knew she needed to get this over with. She pulled her left hand onto the table, and Morgan and Lenore gasped, the latter’s hands flying to cover her mouth.
“I figured it was coming,” said Lenore. “I’m just shocked it was this soon.”
“Oh, I’m not,” said Morgan, starting to smile. “It was already like you two picked up right where you left off. Just with a baby on the way.” She froze, blinked, and looked from Lenore to Beatrice. “Everyone knew about the baby, right?”
Beatrice laughed. “Even if she hadnae told us, we all would’ve suspected, wha’ with all the gossip.”
“On that subject—” Lenore laid her hand on Rose’s. “My brother hasn’t punched anyone else lately, has he?”
“No. He’s sworn off of that.”
“That seems like less fun,” said Morgan.
Rose shrugged. “Maybe, but I think I’ve had enough excitement for a little while. At least until July.” She tried hard to keep her poker face, but a smile crept through it.
“July?” Morgan raised a brow.
“What are you all doing on the seventeenth?”
“Hopefully not still workin’ on this design,” said Beatrice with a long look at her portfolio. “Why?”
“Because I would really love it if you’d be my bridesmaids.”
Lenore’s face lit up, and Beatrice’s grin was brighter than Rose had ever seen it. Morgan’s eyes looked a bit watery, and she wore a small smile.
“Absolutely,” said Lenore.
“Are ye mad? How could I say nay?”
Rose reached for her sister’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “And you all know I love you very much. But I can’t not ask my sister to be my matron of honor.”
Morgan’s tears spilled over, and she squeezed Rose’s hand back tightly. “Nothing would make me happier,” she said.
Epilogue
Chatter filled the ballroom, and it buzzed in Luke’s ears even through the closed balcony doors. The view overlooked a busy street and a large fountain several stories below where he stood, and Luke wondered how long it would take the water to freeze. Night had fallen early, as it always did this late in the year, and headlights lit the darkness below like slowly shooting stars.
He’d brought Rose outside for a few private moments together before they were expected to be on their best behavior for the duration of his mother’s party. She stood beside him, and her touch on his hand was warm and welcome in the cold night air. He didn’t want to spend long out here on a Friday in November when the forecast had been calling for snow all day, but he couldn’t resist a little time alone with his wife.
Her ring glittered in the light cast by the ballroom’s chandeliers. The one he’d given her both times he’d proposed had been fused to a second band inlaid with diamonds after their wedding, and he often caught her staring at it, a smile playing on her lips.
He looked from the ring to her face. Tonight, unlike the last time they’d visited this hotel, there were no masks. Rose’s pale cheeks were flushed, and her hair hung in an elegant braid down the back of her long red gown. It was different from the one she’d worn to the fundraiser the year before—this one had a fuller skirt that trailed behind her when she walked, and though the bustline was a little higher this time, it revealed just enough to tease Luke and send his mind into overdrive as he thought about how the rest of their night would go.
They’d rented a room at the hotel, tonight. Though Luke didn’t expect any trouble from the paparazzi now that the election was over, he didn’t plan on taking any chances, especially now that he had a wife and daughter to think about with every move he made. Eden was going to stay with his parents for the night—they always told him they wanted to see her more, which was hard to pull off, with them living in D.C.—and he was going to have time alone with his beautiful wife. A hotel room to themselves, nowhere to be until the next afternoon, just her skin against his, her perfect lips caressing his own and drifting along his body…
“You okay?”
Luke blinked, and a smirk slid onto his mouth as he leaned close to kiss Rose’s cheek. “More than okay,” he said. “Incredible.”
“Hm. You’ve been staring at me so long I was starting to worry.” Her tone was teasing, and she caught his lips for a quick kiss.
“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” he said. He leaned close to her ear and dropped his voice. “And how I can’t wait to have you,” he purred.
She shivered lightly and squeezed his hand. “You’re going to make me blush.”
“Aren’t you already?” He brushed his lips along her cheek. As he inhaled, the familiar vanilla-and-cinnamon scent of her perfume filled his senses. He’d been meaning to ask her what kind it was, but he supposed not knowing was just as enticing, if not more so.
“It’s just the cold,” said Rose, but the slight tremble in her voice told him that wasn’t entirely true.
“I’m sure it is.”
The chatter behind them died down, and despite his years of preparation for these situations, his stomach jumped. He told himself he should be used to political events by now, but every one of them seemed like a new disaster waiting to happen, and he felt a swell of relief that he and Rose had had the foresight to plan to stay inside afterward. Even if no one was going to follow and harass them this time, Luke was going to be tired of human company by the end of the night, apart from that of his family.
“Thank you all for being here tonight.” His mother’s voice drifted through the doors, and it was as effortlessly confident as ever. He knew she’d had a huge weight removed from her shoulders after she’d won another term in office, and she’d been dying to celebrate.
Rose turned
to embrace Luke, molding her body to his as she stretched up to kiss his jaw. “Are you ready?” she asked.
“As I’ll ever be.” He chuckled and entwined his fingers with hers.
Just as it always had, her smile shot straight through him, igniting his every nerve ending and making everything fade but her. He didn’t realize his mother had given their cue until Rose took his arm and nodded toward the ballroom.
He pushed open the glass doors, and the two of them stepped inside. His mother had once again spared no expense on the food and drinks, which filled separate tables on either side of the room with more options than any one person could get through in a night. The dance floor was empty, for the moment, and the guests were seated at their tables that formed a perimeter around the room. Every table was full—Luke performed a quick headcount of the one directly across from where they stood, and he realized there were ten people at each.
His parents and sister stood at the head of the room, Eden in his mother’s arms. At the sight of his daughter, Luke beamed. She had Rose’s strawberry-blond hair, and she wore a white dress with ruffles on its skirt and sleeves. She was scanning the room, and when she saw her parents, she smiled brightly and raised a small hand to reach for them.
“I want to give special thanks to my son and my daughter-in-law, Luke and Rose LeBlanc,” his mother continued. “Without them, I don’t know if I could’ve handled such a stressful election season.”
Applause filled the room, and as the pair reached the rest of their family, Luke’s mother shifted Eden into his arms. He took his daughter gently and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He looked to Rose, who took Eden’s small hand and leaned in to kiss her cheek. Eden smelled like lavender, and when she looked up at Luke with bright blue eyes, he couldn’t stop smiling.
***
As he stepped out of the elevator just outside the penthouse room he and Rose had rented, he felt like he was walking on air. Finally, everything had come together. His life was back on track, and it was like the four years he’d spent away from Rose had never happened.
She’d gone up to their room a little earlier; she’d said she’d wanted to get ready, and he’d had to stop himself from contemplating what that could mean to keep his thoughts from getting too carried away while he’d been surrounded by a crowd of people. His parents and Eden had left just before Rose had gone upstairs, but Luke had gotten caught in a series of conversations with acquaintances and his mother’s friends that had lasted longer than he’d anticipated. He was more than ready to spend the rest of the evening alone with his wife.
He pushed open the bedroom door and froze. He took in the low lighting and the glass sitting beside a full bottle of chardonnay on the dresser, and then his eyes fell on Rose. She wore the black lace underwear he’d gotten her to replace the pair he’d ripped, a corset in the same color, and her satin robe and red heels. She sat on the chaise with an arm resting over its back, her hair hanging loose in waves around her shoulders. As Luke admired the way the robe clung to her curves through her bodice, he slipped off his suit jacket and laid it on the dresser beside the bottle. He closed the door and left his shoes in front of it. A mischievous grin slid onto his lips. Rose stood and started toward him, and he watched her move, taking in every twist of her hips. He already felt the blood rushing from his head and moving downward, and he wanted to rip off her clothes and kiss every last inch of her.
“How was the rest of the party?”
“I’ve already forgotten.”
Rose paused at his side. She laid her hands on his shoulders and began to massage them. Luke sighed contentedly under her touch as he slid his arms around her and pulled her close.
“You’re very good at making me forget everything but you.”
“You think so?” She leaned up and kissed him gently.
He laid a hand on the small of her back, keeping her close as he savored the softness of her lips. “You look gorgeous,” he mumbled as his other hand skimmed her waist.
She laughed softly. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She rubbed his shoulders and down to his chest, flicking open the buttons at the top of his shirt as she went. Her lips brushed over his jaw and his neck, and he groaned softly, his grip on her tightening.
“Do you want some wine?” Rose muttered. “I ordered your favorite.” She nipped at his neck just below his jaw. His skin burned beneath her lips.
“I’d love some, thank you. But let me get it. You can get comfortable.”
She kissed his skin once more and then turned away, sashaying toward the chaise, and his eyes drank her in as he reached out to give her ass a light squeeze before she was out of range. He grabbed the bottle from the dresser, popped it open, and filled the glass beside it quickly before joining Rose on the chaise. He couldn’t hold back a smile—he recognized the look in her eyes that meant she was mentally undressing him.
“Would you like a drink?” Luke purred. He held out the glass to her, and his eyes drifted over her body, which was hugged tightly by her corset and the other thin pieces of clothing that barely covered her.
Rose shook her head. “No thank you.”
Luke raised a brow, wondering why she wasn’t interested and why she’d only left out one glass. He took a sip, and as the dry wine touched his tongue, he understood. Rose had always preferred sweet wines. He supposed he should’ve expected that she wouldn’t want to join him in drinking this, but he’d been too distracted by the sight of her to think straight.
Her fingertips drifted up his thigh, and he shuddered at her touch. He set his glass on the table beside him and laid his hand on Rose’s cheek as he leaned close to kiss her slowly. He wanted to savor every second of this. Every day that he woke up beside her, it was like a dream, and he was finally starting to accept that that incredible feeling wasn’t going to end. Every kiss melted him a little more, and he was determined to give her enough of them to make up for the time they’d lost.
Her lips moved against his with unrestrained passion, and he kissed her back hungrily as she climbed onto his lap and her fingers grazed his inner thighs through his pants. He growled low in his throat and slid his hand down to give her ass a squeeze. She moaned softly and made quick work of the rest of his shirt’s buttons.
“I want you,” he breathed against her lips.
Rose let out another quiet moan and began to rub him through his pants. He bit the inside of his cheek hard.
“Well, I need you,” she whispered.
Luke’s breath caught in his throat—he hadn’t processed exactly how aroused he’d become until he found his hips rocking toward her touch, his cock aching against his restricting clothes. He pushed her robe off her shoulders, and she let it fall to the carpet. In one fluid motion, he flipped their positions to lay her on the chaise and climb over her, and he knew lust had to be as apparent in his eyes as it was in hers.
“I love it when you’re feeling like this,” he muttered. He leaned close and pressed his body to hers, and her legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed along the porcelain skin of her neck. He rocked forward again. A low groan rolled from her throat.
“I need you so badly,” she breathed.
Luke grinned and worked his lips along her neck for a moment longer before speaking. “Do you?”
“Yes!” Her nails bit into his back as she wrapped her legs around him and pressed her hips harder against his.
“You have no idea… how much… I enjoy it…” he muttered into her neck between kisses and gentle bites. “…spending every day with you… having you all to myself…” He slid a hand between her legs, and he felt the wetness building through the thin lace of her underwear. He rubbed her slowly.
She pressed her hips toward his touch. “Always.”
Luke kissed her hungrily as he began working open her corset. He hurried with her laces and pulled the garment from her body, dropping it over the side of the chaise without breaking his lips from hers. He ran his hands along her bare waist, squeezing and caressing
her skin. She ground her hips against his. With a moan, he worked her panties down over her hips. He felt her fingers working deftly to unzip his pants, and as he discarded her underwear, she gave his waistband a swift tug.
“So very impatient,” Luke teased. He shed his pants and boxers and tossed them to the floor.
“Can you blame me?” Rose asked breathlessly. She bit her lip. “Take me. Please.”
Luke let out a growl. For an instant, he considered asking if she was certain she didn’t want to move to the bed, but from where he hovered over her, she seemed pretty damned sure. Besides, they had the rest of the night for the bed. He ran his hands along her legs, not bothering to remove her heels, and he kissed her fiercely as he slid into her and began to move. Rose groaned into his mouth and rocked upward to meet him.
Absolutely perfect, he thought as he felt the bliss of her body surrounding him—the soft brush of her fingers in his hair. He sped up his thrusts. Her legs wound around him once again, and he braced himself with an arm resting beside her head as his other hand rubbed and caressed her breasts in turn.
“Rose,” he breathed against her lips.
“Ohh—Luke—”
With each passing moment, their breathing grew louder and harder, and he reveled in the feeling of her body so tight around him as he rocked. He never tired of it, never found he could have enough of her.
“I love you,” Rose muttered.
“I love—you, too,” Luke ground out, struggling to keep moving past the pleasure threatening to consume him but determined to ensure she reached climax first. He released her breast to grip the back of the chaise in an attempt to steady himself.
