Almost Hitched

by Kylie Gilmore

  An hour later, the binders closed, and he realized all eyes were on him. “What?”

  “She wants us to set a date,” Kate said.

  “Oh. But we haven’t…” He pulled at the collar of his shirt, suddenly choking him. “We, uh, don’t know about your fellowship yet.” Or whether we’ll be long distance for another year.

  “Can we get back to you in May?” Kate asked. “That’s when I hear if I’ll be in Geneva next fall.”

  Hailey shook her head. “I have to warn you, I have a huge wedding planned this June. Major, major press will be in attendance. I fully expect Ludbury House to become a wedding destination. If you don’t book today, I can’t promise I’ll have the date you want in the future.”

  Ian broke out in a sweat. He didn’t want to tell Kate no after all this planning stuff, but this felt so sudden. So locked in.

  Kate and Amber exchanged a concerned look.

  “August?” Kate asked him.

  He opened his mouth and closed it again. That was only five months away. The walls were closing in on him. He went hot and then cold.

  “Ian?” Kate prompted.

  “I have cold feet,” he blurted. “Nothing personal, Kate.”

  “Of course not,” Kate said. “I’m the bride. Why would I take it personally that the groom has cold feet?”

  Amber laughed and then slapped a hand over her mouth.

  Hailey bared her teeth at him. “Cold feet are my specialty,” she said in a near growl.

  Kate stood. “Ian, let’s go. We will proceed with our experiment as planned.” Uh-oh, the formal tone was back. His cold feet had triggered her cold feet. Now she had doubts about them.

  He stood and reached for Kate’s hand, but she moved out of his reach and snagged a business card from the table. Ian knew he was in trouble now. He had to prove himself with whatever scientific torture Kate devised, get over his own damn cold feet, and make her dreams come true.

  Kate scanned the business card and turned to Hailey. “Thank you, Hailey Adams, Love Junkie, we’ll be in touch.”

  He glanced at the card. It actually said that, silver bells embossed on a card with Hailey Adams, Love Junkie.

  As soon as they were outside, he tried to reassure Kate. “I’ll get there. I just need a little time.”

  “We shall see,” she replied ominously.

  Kate reported on the decline of marriage in America on the drive home, Amber kept giggling, and Ian sank deeper into his seat.

  ~ ~ ~

  “How’d it go?” Barry asked the moment Kate, Amber, and Mr. Cold Feet stepped in the door.

  “Ian has cold feet,” Kate informed him. She was pissed at Ian for revealing this sad state of affairs in front of the wedding planner after more than an hour of planning for a wedding that might never happen. This was so embarrassing. Why didn’t he just say he didn’t want to go to the wedding planning appointment? Communication was vitally important in a marriage. Theirs sucked.

  “Kate has a Cinderella fantasy,” Ian returned.

  Grrr…Kate wanted to kick him in the shin, but she was too mature for such childish behavior.

  Amber threw her arms over both of their shoulders. “Play nice, children.”

  Barry shook his head. “Sorry I missed it. Sounds like it must’ve been a hoot.”

  “Oh, we hooted, all right,” Amber said. “Where’s Vi?”

  “She’s watching TV in our room,” Barry said. “She’s running a low-grade fever. I’m not sure if she’s sick or just teething. Could be her two-year molars are coming in.”

  Amber raced upstairs.

  Barry gave Kate a sympathetic look. “Anything I can do?”

  “Any advice?” Kate asked.

  He glanced at his brother. “For getting over cold feet? Time.”

  “I told you I just needed some time,” Ian muttered.

  “For marriage,” Kate said. “Any advice for a successful marriage?”

  Barry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Kate held her breath. Communication? Differentiation combined with involvement? Positive feedback loops? Mutually enjoyable activities? She just needed a direction. They could work on it if they knew what “it” was. Even Ian seemed riveted with anticipation.

  “Sex,” Barry pronounced. “Lots and lots of sex.”

  “We’re golden,” Ian said with a big smile.

  The brothers exchanged an enthusiastic high five.

  “Men!” Kate threw up her hands and stomped upstairs.

  Chapter Six

  “I’m taking the job in the AI lab,” Ian announced, startling Kate.

  It was Thursday, their last day in Boston, and they were having a lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches in his apartment. Somehow during this busy week with Ian showing her the sights, Kate had managed to push his job offer and their diverging future career paths from her mind. Now it was like a Boston cream pie in the face. Unavoidably needing to be dealt with and very messy.

  Kate peeled the crust off her sandwich, waffling between irritated that he hadn’t asked her opinion on his job decision and pleased that he was communicating with her as was recommended in the successful relationship literature.

  Ian went on. “I’m signing the employee agreement and emailing Dr. Wilson after lunch.”

  Again, no question. More of an announcement. Kate set her sandwich down. “So you’re just telling me this, not asking me.”

  “I’m keeping you in the loop.”

  “So now we know you’ll be rooted in Boston and I have no choice but to follow along with your decision.”

  Ian’s kind brown eyes studied her for a moment. “The AI lab gave me a week to think it over, and I think it’s a good fit. I have to give them an answer today. Tomorrow we’re flying to Chicago.”

  “Yes, of course.” Kate reached for composure. Everything Ian said was true and logical, so there was really no reason to be irritated. She should possibly be thanking him for keeping her in the loop and praising his open communication. She opened her mouth to do exactly that, but what came out was, “Excuse me. I need to do some research.”

  She stood with her plate and glass.

  “You didn’t finish your sandwich,” Ian said.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Kate.”

  She looked at a point over his shoulder. “What?”

  “Are you upset?”

  She checked in with herself. Upset? Irritated? Angry? None of these emotions swirling through her made any sense. The facts were simple—Ian must give an answer to the job offer. And he must always choose what was right for his career just as she must always choose what was right for her career, even if those decisions put them on opposite sides of the Atlantic Ocean.

  Of course, she hadn’t landed the fellowship in Geneva yet. Maybe they’d just be thousands of miles of land apart. Or maybe they wouldn’t be apart at all. But would that be caving in to what he wanted? Did she have a clear enough head to make her own career decisions for what was best for her as he did so easily just now?

  “Kate?” Ian prompted.

  “I’m not sure,” she replied. She wrapped her sandwich and stuck it in the refrigerator. Then she set the dishes in the sink.

  Ian’s arms slid around her waist from behind.

  “When do you start?” she asked.

  He kissed her temple. “Probably three weeks. I’ve got this next week off to spend with you, and then I’ll give two weeks’ notice at my old job.”

  She pulled away. “I really need to do some research.” The urgent need to scour the marriage literature on two-career families made her rush to the living room and grab her laptop.

  “Okay,” Ian said easily. Thankfully, he was completely oblivious to her distress. She didn’t want to be that awful girlfriend who tried to hold their boyfriend back from great things. She wanted to treat Ian the way she wanted to be treated—with complete respect for the wisdom of her decisions.

  Yet when she pulled open her laptop, the journal articles she bookm
arked swam before her eyes because in making his career decision, he’d just put limits on hers.

  She took off her glasses and quickly wiped her eyes. She shoved the glasses back in place and took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on marriage research. Her experiment was more critical than ever. Their future depended on it.

  Kate dove in and didn’t come up for air until Ian waved a hand in front of her face. “Hey,” he said, “let’s go grab a bite for dinner.”

  She started and checked the time on her laptop. It was after six. She hadn’t realized she’d been immersed in the marriage literature for so long. She’d also constructed a useful compatibility quiz drawn from several relationship-savvy websites such as Cosmo and Glamour. She’d found Cosmo to be most informative on several levels of pleasing your man in areas she’d thought about—sex—and areas she hadn’t even considered such as skincare, an inviting living space, and gestures of love. She hoped there was an equivalent magazine geared toward pleasing your woman. She’d research that at the very next opportunity.

  Ian took her hand and pulled her up from the sofa. “You get a lot of work done?”

  “Yes. It was a most productive session.”

  “Great.” He framed her face with both hands and kissed her tenderly. Her throat got tight as all the emotions she’d pushed down returned at the warm look in his eyes. “So we good?”

  She couldn’t speak, so she tried to nod, but even that was impossible with the way he held her head. His hands slid into her hair and she felt her hair loosen and then fall from its messy half ponytail half bun.

  Ian dipped his head and nuzzled into her neck, bringing hot shivers of pleasure, before moving up to her ear. “Good enough for a quick trip to the bedroom before dinner?” he asked in a husky coaxing voice.

  Her stomach growled, speaking for her. She’d never finished her lunch.

  Ian laughed and met her eyes. “Your stomach has spoken. Let’s go.”

  They had a hearty dinner at her favorite Boston restaurant, Sweet Cheeks, where she indulged in fried buttermilk chicken with mac n’ cheese. The cheerful busy place made it easy to forget her worries over their future. Ian was in good spirits over his new job and how enthusiastic his new boss was to have him join the group. She told herself everything would work out as it should.

  That little mantra worked all the way until four a.m. when she woke from a vivid dream where Ian was pulling her arm in one direction and her research director, Dr. Weintraub, dressed improbably in her hydrogen costume, pulled her other arm in the opposite direction. She jackknifed up in bed with a harsh gasp just as she was about to be torn in two.

  Ian slept soundly at her side, naked from their earlier activities and lying on his back in his open trusting way. She’d read just this afternoon that sleeping on your back was a trusting position and sleeping on your stomach was a defensive position. Kate had purposely tried to switch from stomach sleeping to back sleeping and look what it got her—a nightmare.

  “Ian,” she whispered, curling up against his side. No response. She rested her head on his chest and listened to the reassuring thud of his heartbeat. Her own rapid heartbeat slowed, and her mind cleared. She lifted her head. “Are you awake?”

  Silence. She kissed him, hoping to stir him, but he kept right on sleeping. She pulled the blanket off him and settled herself on top of him. His body heat would be more than enough to keep them both warm. She wiggled a little, fitting herself better against him. This was nice. He was so warm, and skin on skin always made her feel so alive. The nightmare slipped fully from her mind, and she relaxed, resting her cheek against his chest.

  A few moments later, he said, “Mmm…” the sound reverberating through his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. Oh, good, he was waking up.

  She lifted her head. “I’ve constructed a ten-part compatibility quiz.”

  “Morning,” he mumbled.

  She brightened. “Morning! Even though I haven’t finished designing the scientific experiment for our trial run, I thought maybe we could do the quiz as a precursor. The initial results could prove useful in experiment design.”

  One of his eyes opened. “Dark,” he muttered, closing his eye. “Time is it?”

  She glanced at the clock that read 4:05 and quickly decided not to answer the question directly. She really wanted to get started on finding the answers she needed to their future sooner rather than later. “It’s morning,” she assured him. “Would you prefer to spend a Saturday relaxing at home, hiking in the wilderness, or at a blow-out bash on your friend’s killer yacht?”

  He groaned.

  Undeterred, she broke it down for him to make answering as easy as possible. “Would you prefer to spend a Saturday relaxing at home?”

  He let out a small sigh that might’ve been a snore.

  She quickly blurted the rest of the question, “Or would you rather hike or party? Personally I’d choose…oh, wait. I’m not supposed to share until I hear your answer so you won’t be biased. Couples tend to want to agree to avoid confrontation, but since we’re just beginning what should be a truly objective—”

  She squeaked. Ian had unexpectedly flipped her onto her back. Before she could continue their admittedly one-sided conversation, he was on top of her. His fingers speared into her hair, and then his mouth shifted to kiss along her neck. Her lips parted on a sigh as she melted into the mattress. He nipped at her neck, and she jolted at the sharp electric pleasure. His warm lips skimmed along the sensitive skin on the underside of her jaw and then to the soft spot just below her ear.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, sifting her fingers through his soft hair. “Were you using my short circuit to make me be quiet?”

  He tugged her earlobe between his teeth, giving her a hot shiver. Her eyes fluttered closed.

  “Ian,” she whispered.

  His mouth grazed her earlobe as he spoke, sending more hot shivers through her. “No, I love when you talk.” His voice was silky. “Keep talking.”

  He kissed his way down her body, his lips like warm velvet across her collarbone, her chest, and then to her breast, where he lingered, kissing and tasting in ever-tightening spirals. All thoughts of compatibility testing fled. His finger flicked across her beaded nipple, making her gasp. He lowered his head, his mouth closing around her nipple and sucking hard. A rush of heat surged between her legs. Her lips parted on a moan, and she moved her hips restlessly against him. He lifted his body and slid his hand between her legs in one long heavy stroke as he shifted his mouth to her other breast, suckling hard.

  “Please, please,” she chanted.

  He lifted his head. “Keep talking, sweetheart.” His fingers slid inside her, thrusting in and out, and he resumed suckling her aching, tingling breast, causing a sharp need that could not be denied.

  She raised her hips. “Take me. I need you.” He made her crazy. Absolutely crazy.

  “I want to hear you talk some more.” He stroked her lazily between the legs. “I love when you talk. Let’s hear you begging.”

  She smacked his shoulder. “Ian! I’m not begging. Just give it to me.”

  “Give you what?” he drawled.

  She was about to reply when he suddenly levered his body lower, his lips landing on her belly, where he licked her belly button in one long sweep. A full-body shudder ripped through her because she knew where this was going.

  “Open your legs nice and wide,” he said in a low gravelly voice.

  She did, her breath ragged, her body humming with anticipation. His warm lips grazed along her inner thigh, and she bit her lip to stop herself from begging.

  “So quiet now,” he murmured, moving to kiss along the inside of her other thigh, so damn close to where she wanted him.

  “Please!” she begged.

  “There she is,” he said, pushing her legs over his shoulders, leaving her open and exposed to his wicked tongue. His hands slid under her bottom, lifting her to the angle he wanted.

 
“Please,” she whispered.

  He dipped his head, gave her one long stroke and then sucked hard, sending shockwaves of sensation through her. She cried out, and he gentled. “Oh-oh-oh,” she said as he lapped at her.

  He lifted his head, his voice rough. “Keep talking.”

  She did. She couldn’t help herself. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop…” she chanted. And then she was overwhelmed and quieted, so-so close. She trembled as he held her on the sharp edge of release. He knew her well, knew when to push hard and when to pull back. She whimpered incoherently. He pushed her hard suddenly, his mouth firm and hungry on her, and she exploded in a hot rush. He stayed with her, letting her ride out every wave of pleasure until she was spent.

  A slow satisfied smile bloomed as she floated in a haze, vaguely aware of Ian shifting away. He cupped her between the legs suddenly in a possessive hold. She jolted and moaned. And then he was on top of her, lifting her legs high around his waist and thrusting deep.

  “Yes!” she hissed.

  His fingers entwined with hers, pressing her hands to the mattress on either side of her head. He nipped her bottom lip, and his tongue thrust inside her mouth, igniting her. She moaned as he thrust hard and deep, over and over, the sweet pressure building and building and building.

  He tore his mouth away and rasped, “I’m hitting a ten tonight.”

  He was always a ten on her performance-rating scale—thickness, check; dexterity, check; reciprocity, double check; alpha-level dominance, yeah, baby! But she let him make an effort anyway.

  She concentrated on sounding casual. “You’re nearly there.”

  “Nearly!” He pulled out, flipped her over, yanked her hips up, and plunged deep. Yes! His hand snaked around, stroking her the way that made her eyes roll back in her head. “Now where are we at, Kate?”

  She panted and trembled under him, completely beyond speech.

  He got rougher, pushing her harder, taking her deep. She shook with need, heart-pounding exhilaration racing through her. “Where we at?” he growled. “Say it.”

  “Ten!” she shouted before shuddering in a climax so hard she saw the entire galaxy of stars flash before her eyes.