by Snow, Nicole
“Whoa. It’s pretty but it still feels like too much. She wants me to wear a crown?”
Paige sighs. “She sold Mag on the theme. That’s the only reason I went along with it, but your groom bought it.”
“He did?”
There’s a knock at the door. Something tells me to flip the lock which turns out to be a good thing when someone tries barging in.
“Brina, let me in,” Mag says behind the door.
“No way! It’s bad luck to see me before the wedding.”
“This isn’t something I thought I’d ever do. I need your opinion on my tux.”
“Nope. It was your idea,” I say. “Go to the deck and wait for me where you’re supposed to be before Mom goes into stage manager mode.”
“I can’t get one damn kiss before the ceremony?” he growls.
Heaven help me, I smile like a fool.
“I have my dress on already. Do you want to ruin our marriage before it even starts? Go.”
“Sabrina—”
“Mag, vamoose. You’ll see me soon.”
“Not fair,” he grumbles. “You know I can’t deny you.”
I’m still a little weak in the knees as I hear his heavy footsteps fading.
The music starts a minute later. I have Paige check to make sure the coast is clear so Mag can’t sneak a look before he should.
Showtime.
He’s standing next to the judge where he belongs.
Jordan walks Paige up the aisle and stands beside his brother. He’s getting taller by the month, and I think he’ll be slaying hearts left and right in a couple years. I love how he smiles, proud to be the best man.
Dad walks me up the aisle as the music begins.
“Take care of my little girl,” he whispers softly, leaning in to Mag, placing my hand in his.
“Already done,” Mag says with a smile so genuine it sets my heart on fire.
Someone—meaning Mom—has built an arch for us. It’s draped in glowing sea foam and pale blue tulle netting. A freaking chandelier hangs from the top.
Being married on Mag’s yacht was supposed to be a compromise.
He wanted something elegant that people—meaning the press and social media—would think was appropriate for a rockstar CEO. Mom wanted something over the top fit for one of her books.
I just wanted close friends and relatives and nothing else.
Dad wanted to pay for it, and I worried Mom’s ideas combined with my groom’s might bankrupt their newfound wealth.
But we decided Mag’s yacht, a beast he owns and pays for, would be a happy compromise with close friends, family, and Mom involved in everything else.
Looking at the arch with layers of silk plastered with seashells and coral, I smile.
Fair is fair.
Mom got her over-the-top dream wedding, and I got the perfect man.
My hand slips into Mag’s now, but I’m so nervous it’s more like he’s holding me up than just holding my hand. Then everything we rehearsed arrives in a giddy blur.
I manage to say, “I do,” at all the right times.
But the courage to get the words out comes from him.
“Now for the moment you’ve been waiting for—you may now kiss your bride!” our officiant announces.
Mag pulls me closer and meets my lips with this own.
His lips are all fire, leaving nothing but scorched happiness in his wake. His tongue pushes against my lips, tracing my mouth, etching our love into my being.
Sure, I’m full of sappy phrases today, but hey, what’s a mermaid princess to do on her big day?
My arms wind around him tight.
He holds me tighter, bending me back, deepening the force of his tongue on mine.
A few laughs burst out from somewhere around us, but I can’t even think.
We break away reluctantly, and the music swells with wild applause.
Mag straightens up, pulling me with him. I take several deep breaths before my lungs work again.
Our guests shift around, lining both sides of the staircase as we make our way. Birdseed scatters around us like confetti as we go down the stairs to the next deck for the reception.
Mom did an amazing job here, too.
Our wedding cake is three tiers and fades between aqua and seafoamy green. It’s decorated with edible shells of rich frosting instead of flowers. The groom on top holds a paddle wheel and the brunette in the wedding dress beside him is a mermaid holding herself up on a curled tail instead of legs.
The groom’s cake glows in royal purple and displays a picture of us at the Adzilla formal. I had no idea someone got a good picture before he charged to my defense against that creeper.
We do all the normal cheesy cake pictures with Mom making high-pitched “Awwws.”
Whenever she’s not snapping pictures like a paparazzi meth fiend, I mean.
I turn my back and throw the bouquet, glad I don’t have to face the crowd.
“Move!” Angie screams, her hands flying out.
“It better not hit me,” Ruby hisses.
I laugh because even with my back to her, I picture Ruby jumping away from the bouquet like it’s lethal.
“Oh!” Someone sputters like she’s just been winded.
I turn around to find Paige clasping the ball of flowers, her cheeks rosy pink.
Magnus comes up beside me and pulls me closer.
“We need to throw the garter, too,” he says.
“Okay.”
Mom and the photographer push a chair over to us.
I look at my mom, confused.
“Foot on the chair, baby,” she says.
I have no idea why, but I do it.
Why are weddings so weird again?
Mag slips his hand under my dress. The slightest brush of his fingers still makes me tremble.
“Use your teeth!” the photographer says with a laugh. “It’ll make a better picture.”
I turn crimson at the words.
“If you do that, you’ll leave here alone.”
“Suburbanite, I love you,” Mag chuckles, shaking his head.
Mom slaps his arm. “Don’t tease my daughter for being a good girl.”
He nods to her and mouths “Suburbanite” again to me. Then he slips the garter off with a perfect grasp and tosses it over his shoulder.
“I got it!” Hugo yells proudly, holding it up like it’s a trophy.
Oof.
“Awkward. I always wanted someone I work with to have my undergarment,” I groan, unable to do anything but smile.
Mag’s arms slip around my waist. His lips brush my forehead.
“That’s okay. I can promise if you don’t want it mentioned, it won’t be.”
“All of Me” starts playing, and I smile at my husband.
“That’s our dance.”
Of course he knows. He picked the song.
Taking my hand, he leads me to the dance floor. His eyes are even bluer against the sea green of his vest.
“That color looks divine on you,” I whisper, burying my face in his chest.
He laughs. “Black?”
“No, your vest. The pale green.”
“Your mother picked it.”
I grin.
“What?” he asks.
“Oh, I knew she did. The whole wedding has a mermaid theme.”
“I thought it was cool, so I rolled with it. I picked your headpiece, so we’re even.”
“Yep. That’s why I’m wearing this ridiculous thing.” For a split second, I flick my tongue out at him.
“You don’t like it?” Mag tilts his head.
“It’s beautiful, but it’s way flashier than what I’d usually wear.”
“Newsflash: this isn’t an ordinary day, beautiful.” He kisses my forehead. “I wish like hell my mom could’ve met you. She would’ve loved you.”
“I wish I’d met her too, but I know she was strong and amazing. She raised you.” I glance over his shoulder. Even just invitin
g close friends and family there are so many people here, mostly from my side. So many eyes on us. I draw closer, trying to hide my face in his chest.
“First dances are weird.”
“Because everyone’s watching you?” he asks.
I nod sheepishly.
“If we weren’t the only people on the dance floor, they’d still stare. You’re that stunning, and you’re also mine,” he says, giving me a possessive squeeze.
“You know, as half owner of Bristol-Heron, I think I propose that our first order of business after the honeymoon is a name change,” I tell him.
“And what would we change it to?” His blue eyes twinkle in the low light.
“Heron and Heron. What else?”
“Fuck, I like the sound of that.” He leans in and kisses me like mad.
We’re no longer dancing, really. Just standing in the middle of a dance floor, twisted together, making out like shameless teens.
“Get a room, you guys!” Paige belts out.
Magnus backs away from me.
“Sorry,” he whispers before turning his head to find Paige. “It’s my ship, and I own all of the rooms aboard.”
“All the more reason, dude!” Grinning, Jordan cuts in and throws Paige a thumbs-up.
We finish our dance, and then my dad taps Mag on the back.
“Can I cut in?”
“Of course.” He moves aside and Dad takes my hand.
“I didn’t think you’d dance with me. It’s the only reason I didn’t plan a father daughter dance.”
He smiles at me. “I didn’t think I’d dance with you, either, but seeing you all grown up and someone’s wife hit me like a truck. I’m proud as hell of you, Brina, and the man you married.”
Mom stands at the side of the room.
She’s smiling, but still I don’t like that she’s alone. Then Magnus steps up to her and says something.
I watch him lead my mother to the dance floor.
My heart floods with so much love.
Just when I thought it’d be impossible to adore him even more, I see my freaking husband dancing with my mom.
* * *
One wild day and a couple of long flights later, we’re on our honeymoon.
“Do you like it?” Mag opens the door to his beachfront condo in Kona, just a few miles from the farm.
“Holy crap. It’s beautiful here, and it smells like The Bean Bar.”
He laughs. “I told you I bought the farm.”
“I half thought you were joking...or at least embellishing.”
But no. Even the Hawaiian breeze rolling off the sea kisses my face, welcoming me in this otherworldly place with a man I’m convinced isn’t fully mortal.
The condo looks sleek, white, and immaculate. The lower floor has a patio that opens to our private beach. The bedroom on the second floor has a huge balcony overlooking the ocean.
“What’ll it be first, sweetheart?” he asks as we unpack.
“I want to swim with the dolphins. Oh, and see turtles if we can!”
“That can be arranged. It just so happens I’ve requested the best turtle tour guide for us, Valerie Calum. She’s flying in from Oahu tomorrow.”
“Amazing.” I bite my bottom lip.
We might need to sleep first, though. That flight was so long, but it didn’t steal all of my energy.
Heading for the bathroom, I slide into the white lingerie I secretly packed.
When I step out, his eyes match the sea, full of sun and steaming with desire.
“I thought you were tired. That seems too luxurious to sleep in,” he says with a knowing smirk.
I walk to bed, lean over, and kiss him, laying my hand against his chest.
His urgency overtakes mine in no time, and he pulls me down on the bed.
My hands stroke down his bare chest and washboard abs, hooking under the band of his boxers.
Growling, he yanks the belt of my robe loose, letting it fall open.
“You’re the devil in an angel’s guise,” he whispers, his voice smoldering.
I straddle his chest, leaning down to his ear.
“You’ll like my sin. I promise.”
“Fuck,” he rasps, right before delivering a wildfire kiss.
The luxe lingerie doesn’t stay on me for long, but we’re both past caring. I think I’d go around in a paper bag for a year if it meant having his kiss, his groan, and those rough, thick hands roaming my body.
I throw my arms around his neck and sink down, engulfing every inch of him. The instant pleasure sends my head back, and I dig my nails into his skin, holding on for dear life.
“What have I done to that sweet, innocent little suburbanite?” Mischief dances in his eyes, and he’s trying so hard to hold back, not to thrust.
“You freed me,” I whisper, flicking my tongue across his lips to tease him back. “Now you get to deal with the billionaire hotshot’s wife.”
“Lucky me. I always wanted a woman who gives it back as good as I do,” he rumbles, crashing his hips into mine so hard I bounce on his hardness.
He kisses me again.
“I had no idea it was a power struggle,” I laugh, pulling my face away.
“It’s called evolving, Brina. I want my wife to become the best version of herself so she never, ever even thinks about anyone else.”
“You called me yours again,” I tease, touching a playful finger to his nose.
A fierce hand smacks my butt, and I jerk, loving how he’s always on point.
“You remember your place—the only one that’s non-negotiable.” He rakes his hand through my hair, his eyes incandescent. “You’re here, and you’re mine. Forever.”
A wicked current races up my back.
“The first time I saw you, I thought you were gorgeous, rich, and arrogant,” I whisper, brushing my lips on his. “The first day we worked together, I thought some smarter, prettier, better dressed woman would be here one day, and I already hated her.”
“Here in Kona?”
I kiss his bare shoulder.
“In your arms.”
“Never,” he growls. “Don’t forget I know my place, too. I’m so fucking yours forever, Brina Heron, and it’s the only place I was ever meant for.”
Our lips meet, mouths open, and a familiar dance begins.
My arms thread around his neck as my mind blanks, his hips meeting mine with every thrust.
His kisses sear. His touches blaze. His eyes flipping glow.
His mouth covers one breast and then the next, teasing my nipples into delirium. I drop my hand to his neck, holding him in place. My fingers slide through his thick sandy hair. He runs a hand between my thighs and his fingers trace up and down the seam of my opening, where we’re joined.
God, do I shudder.
“I can’t decide whether to make slow, sweet love to you on this honeymoon or fuck you like a madman. I just know I’m the luckiest man alive—”
“You don’t believe in luck.” I barely get the words out past the fire in my body as he thrusts.
“I do now. Things change, Brina, I’ve got you.”
“Take me,” I grind out as he thrusts again. “Mag, please.”
I love this man and his playfulness, his gentle words, but right now, I’m only craving one thing.
With a low sigh, I spread my legs wider, taking him deeper, closing any last space between us.
One inked arm slides over my back. A firm grip I couldn’t free myself from if I wanted to.
Guess what? I don’t.
His other hand cups my face, tilting my chin up. His head cranes. Feral lips torch mine.
There we are.
Connected, complete, and so in love it hurts until his thrusts sweep me away like an island storm.
When it’s over, I drift off to a boneless sleep in his arms and wake up to crystal-blue eyes staring at me like I’m the most precious treasure he’s ever seen.
I giggle.
“How long have you been
staring?” I pull a pillow over my head.
He fights it away, puts his forehead on mine, and then lays down the law on my lips.
“Never too long, sweetheart. You’re beautiful, you’re mine, and now you’re awake. I ordered room service and I thought we’d take it on the patio. We’ll head downstairs whenever you’re ready. What do you want to do today?”
“I don’t care. As long as it’s with you,” I say honestly.
His lips quirk up.
“I think you’ll enjoy the fact that you’re starting your day with a cinnamon latte, thanks to yours truly. Try not to get sick from all that damn sugar,” he growls, caressing my face.
“My hero,” I whisper, fluttering my eyes dramatically as he dives in for another kiss.
So maybe I’m far more than his assistant now, but let’s be real.
Magnus Heron will always be the boss of me.
* * *
Thanks for reading Office Grump! Look for more lovable bossholes coming soon.
Curious what's in store for Mag, Brina, and Jordan years later?
Have a peek at their lives long after the honeymoon in this special flash forward story. - https://dl.bookfunnel.com/7w3r6ymurk
Then read on for a preview of another broody billionaire, Ridge Barnet in The Romeo Arrangement.
The Romeo Arrangement Preview
No Place to Crash (Grace)
“Careful, Gracie. This snow’s getting to be too much,” Dad growls, his eyes flicking across the road.
“Just a little longer. There has to be something up ahead.” I bite my lip, hoping to every star above that I’m right.
And it’s hard to hope when the stars are walled off behind the dense, angry clouds intent on burying us for the last hundred miles.
Oh, I’ve got all the fire under my ass a girl could ever need, but I’ll tell you one thing—I’d kill for a touch of real fire right now.
I feel a mad affection for every human being who ever shivered, scowled up at the sky, and said winter, bite me.
If only winter was the end of my worries.
The loud, ragged cough coming from my father in the passenger seat has me more nervous than the heavy snow drifting across the highway in blustery white sheets. It’s been snowing for hours.