by Kelsie Rae
“Sorry! I just haven’t brushed my teeth and––”
“Are you shitting me right now, Skye?” He laughs against my ear before pulling away and rolling his eyes. “I finally get to kiss you without the guise of it being for show, and you give me the damn cheek?”
I join in, covering my bright red cheeks with my hands as I mumble, “I know! But I was puking last night! That’s gross!”
Even though his nose wrinkles as I point out the obvious, his eyes maintain their heat. With the pace of a damn turtle, he leans in a second time and presses his mouth against my cheek. Again. His scruff scrapes against my skin, tickling me in the best way possible and making me squirm to get closer to him. His lips are soft and warm, begging for me to grab onto the back of his neck and throw caution to the wind, returning his kiss with a heated one of my own. I can feel his smile along the side of my face like he can read my thoughts.
His husky voice sends tingles racing down my spine as his mouth moves to the shell of my ear. “I’ve been dying to kiss the shit out of you since you threw that random chick’s bra at my head in the hot tub. Go brush your teeth, but be quick about it. Not sure I can control myself for much longer. In fact, you have thirty seconds.”
“But you’re supposed to brush for four minutes,” I argue.
“Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven––”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“Twenty-five. Twenty-four—”
Heart racing, I wiggle out of his grasp and race to the bathroom. My hands fumble with the lid on the toothpaste before squirting a generous portion on the white bristles of my pink toothbrush. His heavy footsteps prowl toward me as I stick it in my mouth and start scrubbing away.
My eyes connect with his through the mirror in front of me as he stands at my back.
“Ten. Nine. Eight––”
Bending forward, I spit out the foamy toothpaste and take a quick swig of water from the faucet when his strong hands grasp my hips.
“Three. Two. One.”
His fingers tighten, pulling me against him as I stand to my full height. Feeling like a ragdoll, Liam spins me around and plants my back against the white wall to my left. He presses his hips against mine to pin me in place then devours me whole. His tongue slides into my mouth with ease, and I don’t fight him. I can’t. Because, despite what I’ve told myself in the past, I’ve wanted him since the first time I saw him. And this is the first moment that I can actually let my wants and needs take over instead of attempting to keep them in check.
Once this realization hits me, I dive right in. Sliding my hands up his chest, I grip the short hairs on the back of his neck and tug softly. With a groan, Liam breaks his mouth away from mine and sucks on the sensitive skin of my jaw before digging his fingers into my ass.
My eyes roll back into my head as a soft moan escapes me.
“Hey, Liam?”
“Yeah,” he groans against my neck before moving down to my collarbone.
The feel of his lips as they pepper kisses against me urges me to murmur, “You know what I just realized?”
“What’s that?”
“We haven’t consummated our marriage yet.”
With a wicked laugh, he picks me up and gives me no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist. “We should fix that.”
“Uh-huh. We should definitely fix that,” I agree wholeheartedly, nodding like a lunatic.
His mouth continues overwhelming me with how expertly he uses it before Liam gently sets me back onto the bed. I look up to see his eyes practically on fire, branding me and ruining me for any other man. But I think I’m okay with that because none of them would be Liam. And I can’t imagine wanting any of them the way I want this man. My husband. My real husband.
“You ready, Skye? You ready to make this real?”
I nod, my arms reaching for him to join me.
And he does.
Once our clothes are nothing but a pile on the floor and our bodies are entwined in the most real way possible, I realize something.
What I feel for Liam isn’t going to go away. And I’m okay with that. I just hope his heart is as involved in this as mine is. Because if it isn’t, I’m going to get obliterated.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Skye
“So, what are we doing today?” I ask, still tangled in the sheets. We haven’t left our apartment all day. And it’s been the best hangover cure ever.
Liam’s fingers play with my long hair as I rest my head against his chest. Every once in a while, he tugs gently, sending tingles racing along my scalp. It feels incredible, and I’ve decided I never want to leave this moment. Nope. I’m good. I’ll just stay here forever.
“Today is pretty shot,” he admits, confirming my suspicion. I can hear the smile in his voice, but I don’t bother to look up. He’s too damn comfortable. “But I was thinking tonight we’d go to a special spot with the most incredible view of Florence that you’ve ever seen. Maybe we can catch the sunset. What do you think?”
“I think that sounds amazing. I should probably shower first, though.”
His broad chest rumbles in amusement when I don’t move a muscle. “Like…today? Or…?”
With a laugh, I smack his chest and dig deep for the self-discipline to sit up.
“Fiiine. Wanna join me?” I bounce my eyebrows up and down as my hair acts like a curtain between us and the rest of the world.
“I mean, I already showered,” he protests, smirking. “But if you insist.”
“Smartass.”
The shower is amazing and makes my already epic day turn into absolute bliss. Once we’re both dressed and ready, we walk the streets of Florence hand in hand. I’m in a black sundress with little flowers and white Chucks, and Liam is sporting the same dark T-shirt and jeans that I was drooling over when I woke up. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we look like a cute couple. And I kind of love it.
After a solid thirty minutes of walking, I ask, “Seriously. Where are you taking me?”
“I’m taking you to the best view of Florence.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Never took you for a complainer,” he teases, leading me up a winding road. The sky is slowly turning pink and orange, hinting that the sunset is near.
“I’m not complaining! I’m just afraid we’re gonna miss it.”
“It’s on the top of this hill,” Liam explains, lifting his chin up. I follow it to see a winding road lined with greenery on both sides.
“Up there?” I ask.
“Yup. It’s called Piazzale Michelangelo.”
“You sure we’ll make it in time?” I look toward the sky, noticing the few clouds scattered among the cool blue as it slowly melts into a warm orange in the west.
“We will if you stop complaining and get your ass in gear,” he razzes.
“Hey! You be nice to my ass!” I defend myself.
His mouth quirks. “That’s not what you were begging me to do earlier today.”
Eyes widening in shock, I reach over and cover his mouth. “Liam!” I scold. “Will you be quiet?!” His laughter seeps through my fingers, warming my cheeks, as well as my soul.
When I finally remove my hand, he jokes, “You brought it up.”
“No, I didn’t! You brought up my ass, not me!”
Grinning, his eyes go cloudy as if he’s picturing it. “Yeah, I did. It’s a great ass, Skye. You should walk in front of me so I can stare at it some more.”
“You’re insatiable. Now let’s get going, slowpoke. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”
He continues giving me crap while I continue blushing and laughing like a loon for the next ten minutes as we trudge up the hill. When we’re almost at the top, I stop to look at the view, but he covers my eyes.
“No peeking until we reach the top!” he orders. “I promise. It’s better if you wait.”
“But I wanna see! What if we miss it?”
“Patience, Skye.
It’ll be worth it.” It’s weird hearing him use my name. It’s usually wife or babe, and before that, I was Nanny. I kind of like it.
With a huff, I grudgingly concede. “Fiiine.”
“Good girl.” Dropping his hand, Liam laces our fingers together and plants a quick kiss to the back of my hand before tugging me the rest of the way up.
“Can I look now?” I ask with my back to the view.
“Nope,” Liam answers without missing a beat. “Just a little further.”
“But we’re at the top!” I protest.
“Trust me, Wife. You won’t regret it.”
My heart stalls in my chest. Trust me, Wife. You won’t regret it. I just hope he’s right.
With a deep breath, I nod before whispering, “Okay. I trust you.”
I trust you so much more than I should, I want to say. And in so many more ways than just a damn view.
But this isn’t the time or the place to admit such sappy things, so I simply shrug one shoulder and wait for him to continue the hike.
Satisfied with my response, he leads me a little further. There’s a cobblestone piazza at the top of the hill with little tents and open shops selling souvenirs for tourists like us, but we bypass all of them. I keep my focus on my feet, ignoring the view that I know surrounds me until Liam gives me the okay. When we reach a stone wall that reaches my waist, Liam leans forward and murmurs in my ear, “You ready?”
I nod.
His forefinger touches my chin, urging me to look up. His eyes are warm as they connect with mine before he motions to the gorgeous view. My breath catches in my throat when I finally lay eyes on the sunset that frames Florence in the most beautiful way possible. It’s as if an artist has painted the scene in front of me. Rich red roofs. Some are flat while others are curved. Warm tan buildings of all shapes and sizes. Tall towers. Gray bridges. A flowing river. And all of it is peppered with lush, green trees and shrubbery. Then there’s the sunset. Reds. Pinks. Oranges. All of them melt together until all you can see is a breathtaking landscape that I know, without a doubt, I’ll never forget.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe in awe.
“It is.”
Wrapping his arms around my waist, he presses his front to my back before resting his chin on the top of my head. The embrace is so effortless, yet intimate, that I can’t help but smile and squeeze his arms in return.
After a few minutes, I look up at him. “We need to take a picture.”
“Okay.” Pulling out his phone, we take a few selfies with the city of Florence in the background. I stand on my tiptoes and press a kiss against his cheek before he snaps a final picture. Examining it, he sets it as his background, and I kind of love him for that too.
“You ready for some pasta?” he asks when the sun finishes setting.
“Uh-huh. Lots and lots of pasta. Ooo…and bruschetta! I’m in love with those tomatoes!”
“You’re in love with a lot of things. The view. The wine. The tomatoes.”
I bite my tongue to keep from adding his name to the list and simply nod. “Yup. Those tomatoes are a keeper. Now feed me, Husband. My tummy is grumbly.”
Eyes crinkling in the corners, he quips, “Careful, Wife. Your adorableness is showing.”
With a grin, I razz, “I thought you said adorableness isn’t a word.”
“I’ve said a lot of things that you’re proving to be wrong. Now, let’s get going. My tummy is grumbly too.”
He guides me back down the hill, begging me for tales about his little brother while laughing at the antics of a six-year-old and how I’m convinced I’m already sprouting gray hairs because of him.
A little while later, when the sun has completely set, and we’re blanketed in darkness with only the streetlights and twinkling stars as our guides, we reach a little restaurant where I devour the best damn bruschetta I’ve ever had.
Or maybe it’s the company that makes it so memorable.
I guess I’ll never know.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Skye
If I’ve learned anything from the Italians, it’s that they know their food. I pat my full belly after a meal of Pasta Carbonara while pressing my back into the cushioned chair I’m sitting in.
“Did you like it?” Liam asks with a knowing grin.
I reply with a question of my own. “How is everything so freaking good here? Tell me.”
Shrugging, Liam reaches for his wine glass and takes another sip. The Italians know their wine too. And when you’re not binging it with the intent to get wasted, it’s a great addition to meals. Liam thought it was funny to mention it before the waitress took our orders.
Smartass.
“I wish I knew,” Liam replies. “You can’t find Italian food like this at home.”
“No. No, you can’t. Which means we need to order some tiramisu.”
“Especially since this is our last night,” Liam points out before resting back in his chair across from me and mirroring my behavior by patting his six-pack. The lighting is low and casts a warm glow throughout the quaint little restaurant. It’s pretty quiet for this time of night, but I’m loving the intimacy that accompanies it.
“Will you judge me if I say I don’t want to go home?” I tease, though I’m only half kidding. I could literally stay here forever…if my family moved here with me.
Damn familial ties.
Nodding, Liam adds, “I agree. It went by too fast.”
“It totally did. Have you heard from your bank? Did everything go smoothly with the transfer?”
“Yeah. They sent an email about a week ago. Everything’s good to go. The money is officially mine.”
“A week ago?” I ask, surprised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs. “I dunno? I didn’t think you cared?”
Seriously?
Shaking my head, I kind of want to smack him. Wanna talk about assumptions? This is as bold as they get. Then I remember who his parents are and the fact that he’s not used to someone caring about him without expectations of what he can do for them in return.
Reaching for his hand resting on top of the cream-colored tablecloth, I give it a quick squeeze. “I care because you care,” I correct him. “But I actually meant that I was surprised you didn’t want to head home as soon as it was transferred into your account.”
“Why would I want to go home? Didn’t we just agree that Italy is the best place ever and that we want to stay here forever?”
“Touché,” I grudgingly concede. “I just thought….” My voice trails off when I realize the corner I just backed myself into.
“Thought what, Skye?” His gaze is intense as he waits for me to finish my statement. If he were anyone else, I wouldn’t bother. I’d simply change the subject, and we’d move on. But this is Liam. And he’s almost as stubborn as my sisters when it comes to digging for info.
“I guess I thought that….” I can’t finish my sentence. I don’t want him to feel bad, and I sure as heck don’t want to make him think that I’m second-guessing our relationship. I also don’t want to plant a seed in his head that makes him question whatever is happening between us. Everything is so new…but it’s so good too.
“You thought that I’d be done with you as soon as the money went through?” he guesses when I remain silent.
Biting my lip, I hedge, “Well…no…I don’t know…it’s kind of weird for me sometimes. My head has a hard time wrapping itself around the fact that this isn’t….”
“It isn’t ending when we get home?” he finishes for me.
I grimace. “Yeah?”
Eyes softening, he does his best to push away any reservations I have. And it makes me wanna melt. “I’m not going anywhere, Skye. I promise. As long as you’re all in, then so am I. I’m going to screw up. I can guarantee it.” He laughs, showcasing his dimple. “But I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy, okay?”
My heart flutters, skipping a beat and making me feel lig
hter than air.
Damn dimple.
Seriously, if he ever finds out the power of that thing, I’ll be screwed. Regardless, I’m sure the relief is painted across my face, shining like a strobe light. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
Reaching across the table, I take a sip of his wine, and the waitress comes over to ask if we want anything else. Once Liam orders some tiramisu, I ask, “So what do you plan on doing with all your money now that you finally have access to it?”
“Honestly?” He leans back in his chair and stares off into the distance with wide eyes. “I have no idea. I’ve spent so much of my life dreaming about what it would be like to get out from underneath my dad’s thumb. And now that it’s here, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“Are you going to keep volunteering? Traveling?” I press.
His Adam’s apple bobs up and down before he grabs the wine glass we’d been sharing and finishes off the last two swallows of red liquid.
“I guess I don’t know about any of that, either. I have time to figure it out, though, right? It’s not like there’s a deadline or anything.”
“That’s true, but I think you should keep doing what you’re doing. I mean, not the sleeping with random women part, but the other stuff. Thinking of others is good for the soul. My parents taught me that. Which reminds me…I do have one request.”
“And what’s that?” he returns, leaning closer with hesitant curiosity.
“I want you to try to really connect with Brody. He needs his older brother.”
Scoffing, Liam shakes off my request. “He doesn’t need me.”
“Bull crap. He needs you more than anyone. I like your dad and stepmom, but he needs a few more positive interactions with family members. He needs a hero to look up to. He’s so used to being shoved aside for a night at the club or an impromptu trip to the Caribbean. Brody would never admit it, but he struggles sometimes because of it, and I think you’d be surprised about the kind of influence you could have on him if you gave him a shot.”