Almost a Bride

by Jo Watson

  But what I hadn’t imagined, not accurately anyway, was the extent of the feelings I would have. I knew there would be some, but I didn’t know how utterly overwhelmed I would be.

  An unbridled fluttering in my stomach—which could only have been caused by huge, genetically modified butterflies.

  Chills—despite the warm, tropical weather.

  And a light-headed giddiness—without the effects of a coconut cocktail.

  I looked up from my trembling hands, and saw Chris. Waiting for me.

  I looked past all the beautiful scenery and my eyes went straight to him, standing there in his crisp white linen suit. God, he looked amazing in a suit. He looked up at me—beamed up at me, with the biggest smile on his face I had seen so far. My lips uncontrollably split into a smile, too, as the feelings rose inside me.

  Chris was looking at me as if I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He was looking at me like a groom would look at his bride, his real bride. Hope swelled inside me as I started walking down the aisle.

  And our timing was perfect. I glanced over to see Trevv standing on the beach, glaring at us. His jaw was clenched so tightly that it looked like his face would explode from the pressure. He was furious.

  His wedding looked quaint. There were a few flowers scattered around him, and a few freestanding lanterns lit the way for the bride. Theirs was a sweet little beach wedding. Ours was an über-deluxe beach wedding. In fact, it was already drawing a lot of attention. A few hotel residents and tourists had gathered. Some were taking photos, and a sweet elderly couple was holding hands lovingly, obviously reminiscing about their wedding day.

  And then I heard a gasp. It was Tess. She’d walked onto the beach and into her worst nightmare. She did look stunning, though, in her classic white sweetheart wedding dress, holding one long-stemmed red rose. But she soon turned ugly as an angry scowl contorted her features into something hideous. Our wedding made hers look like amateur child’s play, and I could see she was painfully aware of that fact. And everyone’s eyes were not on her, they were on me for a change.

  As if by magic, a string quartet appeared behind me and started playing the wedding march. Tess’s mouth literally fell open, and she glared at Trevv. The music swelled and it was my cue to start walking.

  I took my first step; the rose petals under my feet felt soft and silky. The warm sand squished between my bare toes, and the flared skirt of my dress swished and swayed as I walked. I looked up and saw that Chris’s eyes were glued to me.

  I’d never been married before, but I was sure that this, right here, was what a real bride would feel. No doubt about it.

  Standing next to Chris was Damien. You couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if you tried; it looked like he was relishing his new role as minister. He looked fully in character, too, as he said a few words to Chris and patted him on the shoulder in a brotherly fashion. (He was taking his role very seriously, even though he didn’t look the part at all. I doubt there are too many ministers with as many tattoos as Damien has.)

  And then I was next to Chris, face-to-face. My eyes were cast down because I was sure that if I looked up at him, he would finally see right through me.

  He would look straight into my heart and know exactly what I was feeling. That I was totally in love with him. That he was everything I could ever want, and more. He was what I’d been looking for in all the men I’d dated, but never found. He was my forever guy. My perfect hero in this wildly unbelievable, tragicomedy movie that was my life.

  I finally looked up and our eyes met. It was more than I’d imagined. It was electric. It was visceral. And it felt so, so real. This was no longer pretend, for me anyway.

  Chris took my hands in his and the trembling stopped instantly. I felt like I’d come home. Like I belonged here, with him. I allowed myself one last quick glance over at T-Squared and saw nothing but red-hot fury. Tess even looked like she was going to burst into tears. I smiled at her as if nothing about this double wedding on the beach was odd, giving them a taste of their own medicine.

  Ah, revenge, it tasted sweet. As sweet as the elaborate, ridiculously over-tiered wedding cake, decorated with a spray of pink sugar-crystal flowers and orchids that stood next to our über-altar.

  The sounds and the sights and smells and colors seemed to disappear. All that was left was Chris. And he was everything.

  “Well, do you?” Damien’s voiced pulled me back to reality. I’d zoned out so much, I hadn’t heard a word of the ceremony.

  “What?”

  “Do you take this strapping man, Boyden Brown, to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and health, in…” Damien faltered. “In good times and in bad, and until you die, or until the average density of the universe is enough to slow down expansion for it to begin contracting under the force of gravity and collapse in on itself to form a singularity of unimaginable density.” I could hear Lilly and Jane trying to smother a giggle, and Damien gave us both the tiniest wink.

  My voiced quivered and I couldn’t help my smile. “I do.”

  “And you, Boyden, do you take this beautiful woman to be your lawfully wedded wife until all of the previously mentioned things?”

  Chris’s voice was hushed and soft. “I do.”

  He pulled my hand closer and took a ring out of his pocket. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, despite being costume jewelry. A large heart-shaped pink stone was poised on a platinum-colored band, sparkling in the warm light of the candles. As he slipped it onto my finger I gasped.

  It moved up my finger slowly, and it felt like the most intimate and erotic thing I’d ever experienced. I looked up to see if Chris had heard my breathy gasp; he had. The look in his eyes confirmed it.

  “Well, I guess there’s nothing else to say, other than, you may kiss the bride.”

  I braced myself for the kiss as Chris wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer.

  “Annie Anne,” he whispered softly, before leaning in and kissing me.

  The kiss was delicate, soft and slow. His lips tickled mine and a shiver ran up my spine. He tasted sweet and felt hot. He let out a tiny, breathy moan before cupping my face in his hands. I arched my body closer to him until we were pressed up against each other as tightly as two people could ever be. I opened my mouth a little more and invited him in for a brief moment our tongues touched and—

  “Ahumm.” Jane cleared her throat. “We have an audience here.”

  Our kiss was over, but the moment wasn’t. I could taste him in my mouth and on my slightly wet lips. The moment continued to linger as our staring intensified.

  I knew exactly what he wanted. He was making no secret of it. And neither was I. I didn’t know if he felt the same way about me as I did about him. But if I couldn’t have him forever and in all the ways I wanted to, I would be satisfied to have him, and pretend with him, for just one night.

  I wanted my honeymoon night with Chris. Screw all the consequences and the promises I had made. One night, I wanted it. The feeling of need was so overwhelming that there was only one thing to do, quench it.

  “Annie…” Jane tugged at the back of my dress. “Pinkie promise. Pinkie promise.”

  I turned to her and shook my head just as Chris yanked me by the arm and started pulling me away.

  Have you ever watched a wildlife documentary where a lion hunts a buck? They do the whole chase scene in slow motion, so you can see the lion’s singular focus, its blood-hungry determination, every muscle in its body rippling. And then when it pounces, they speed it up to real time again. It gives you this impression of an almighty collision. Aggressive, desperate, hungry, intense, ferocious…

  That’s what this was like.

  Chris dragged me by the hand and we ran across the beach, with a quick, unapologetic wave at my friends. We passed T-Squared, who looked at us with total disdain. Jane buried her face in her hands, probably because of embarrassment—she wasn’t into public displays of affection, let alone unadult
erated lust. A few bystanders whistled and clapped as we carried on running.

  It felt like it took forever to get to the room—like I said, slow motion.

  But finally we reached our room and we barreled through the door.

  Inside the room, we threw ourselves at each other like wild, starving animals.

  It was all so dramatic. We smashed against the wall first, then the floor, then somehow managed to claw our way from the couch—which we had somehow found ourselves on—and then to the bed.

  It was so carnal, dangerous, and frantic.

  Chris had me pinned to the bed as he continued to kiss me. Soft, tiny tips of tongues were long gone. We devoured each other. The kisses were fast and deep and hard.

  “I’ve imagined you like this since the first moment I saw you.” His mouth was at my ear now, and the feel of his hot breath against it was such a turn-on—just in case I wasn’t turned on enough already.

  “Like what?”

  “Pinned to the bed. Me on top.”

  I laughed and Chris quickly shut me up with another forceful kiss.

  He started tugging at my dress, desperately looking for a way in. Thank goodness I wasn’t wearing the strappy, crisscrossing creation from the store in the hotel lobby, or we would be there for hours.

  “How the fuck…?”

  “Zip…” I was so breathy by this stage I was hardly able to speak. “…at side, not back, dress.”

  And then he flipped me onto my side as if I was a tiny rag doll. Suddenly my face was pressed into the bed and Chris was behind me, his hands ripping at the zip and opening it.

  His fingertips gently stroked my back, giving me goose bumps.

  Then the kisses…

  Warm, wet kisses down my spine, all the way to the small of my back. I felt like I was going to explode if he didn’t do something more substantial with me…

  …as I was thinking that…

  Chris stopped. And without warning he was up, walking across the room. He sat down at the window.

  I panicked. “What…what’s going on, Chris? Have I done something?”

  He cut me off immediately. “No. No. You’ve done nothing. You’re great. It’s just…”

  He got up and walked over to the other window—a pointless exercise. Clearly he was worked up about something. But what?

  “Annie, before we do this, I just want to say that…”

  I understood.

  I knew where this was going. I can’t say my heart didn’t break, because I’d stupidly let myself go there. Let myself feel for him and get swept up in the romance of it all knowing full well that he would never feel for me what I was feeling for him.

  “I know. No love. This is just some fun we’re having. We like each other, we’re attracted to each other…I get it, you’ve told me that—”

  He cut me off again. “No. That’s not what I was going to say.”

  The look on his face gave it away immediately, and a lump started forming in my throat. My heart started pounding so hard that it was all I could hear. Chris looked at the floor and shuffled his feet around aimlessly, coyly, as if trying to buy himself time to figure out what to say.

  “The thing is, Annie Anne…” He looked up and smiled at me. “I kind of like you. A lot. Like I think I like you, like you.”

  “Huh?” Were we suddenly twelve again?

  He ran his hands through his hair, letting it fall back into his face. It was damp from sweat and strands stuck to his forehead, giving him a disheveled look.

  “What I’m trying to say—really badly—is that…Shit!”

  And then he was up again, striding across the room to the trash can. He reached into it and pulled out a piece of paper and flattened it against the table. He fiddled in a drawer and pulled out a pen.

  “I’m a writer, okay. I’m not good at saying these things.”

  He started scribbling something down on the paper. When he was finished, he strode over to me and dropped it in my lap. “I’m going to shower. Read this and let me know what you think?”

  I watched him as he walked away and started peeling his clothes off one by one before turning on the taps and climbing in.

  I opened the note.

  Annie Anne,

  You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. I can’t stop thinking about you, even when I’m with you. And when I’m not with you, all I want to do is be with you. I even woke up this morning looking forward to our fake wedding. And then, when I saw you walking toward me on the beach, you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. You took my breath away. Stopped my heart. And I felt like the luckiest man alive.

  In this short time that we’ve known each other, you’ve made me a better person and you see through all my layers of crap. I’ve never shown anyone the real me before, until I met you. And I don’t want to go back to the guy I was a few days ago without you in my life.

  I don’t know what love feels like, but if I were a betting man, I would put money on the fact that what I’m feeling right now, for you, might just be it. Maybe I’ve finally met the right girl. You are the heroine in my story and I want to write you into it forever.

  I turned toward the shower and saw that he was standing under the water staring at me, completely naked. But instead of looking like the Chris I’d gotten to know over the last few days: self-assured, humorous, kind of macho in that messy I don’t care way, he looked completely different.

  He looked still.

  Quiet. Vulnerable. Breakable even.

  His lips twitched into a halfhearted nervous smile and his eyes seemed to question me. I knew what the question was.

  I got up from the bed and let my dress go. It fell to the floor with a soft thud. I reached around and undid my bra, pulled down my panties, and walked toward him.

  The second I stepped into the shower, everything between us changed. The warm water felt good, and Chris felt even better. He pulled me to him and we hugged each other. It was so tender, so full of meaning and full of a million thoughts and sentences that didn’t really need to be said in that moment.

  And then he kissed me again—softly. Slowly. The warm water rushed over our faces and bodies and when I opened my eyes and looked at him, he had little water droplets clinging to those long eyelashes framing his ridiculous blue eyes.

  “You looked beautiful today, in your wedding dress.” His hands moved down my arms and he intertwined his fingers in mine. “Really incredible.”

  “Thanks. So did you.”

  “I didn’t wear a dress, did I?”

  I put my finger over his lips. “No more jokes, Chris!”

  He rolled his eyes playfully in response. “Fine. I’ll try.”

  And then he put his arms around me, lifted me up, and pushed me into the wall. I opened my legs and wrapped them around him, inviting him in.

  “I meant what I wrote…I…I”—he stumbled on his words—“I think I’m in love with you.”

  He kissed me gently again. “I’ve never said that before to anyone but—” His mouth moved down my neck and onto my breasts. “I really think I love you.” The feeling of the hot water still running over me, Chris’s mouth and tongue…was amazing. I moaned and wriggled and arched my back.

  “I love you, too,” I finally said. It felt so good to get it out that it opened the floodgates. “I really love you, Chris. I’m totally in love with you. I love you.”

  Chris looked up and smiled. “I can’t tell you how amazing that sounds.”

  He released me from the wall and let me slide down to the floor. The ground was warm and wet and the tiles were hard.

  I don’t know if you’ve ever had sex on the slippery tiles of a shower floor. But it’s incredible. With every thrust my body slipped up and down the wet surface. I could use my hands to push myself off the wall, meeting him with such force, as my body slipped and slid. The warm water continued to drench us as our bodies slithered, and glided up and down the floor.

  Then, without warning, he picke
d me up, carried me out of the shower, and threw me on the bed. Our wet bodies thumped together and sent drops of water flying. We both burst out laughing as my wet hair slapped against his face. I lay on my back and Chris moved on top of me, parting my legs with his.

  His blue eyes sought mine out and our gaze locked. He kept eye contact with me as he lowered himself down and slipped inside me. Slowly, gently. Our stare created a kind of magical bubble around us as we moved together as one.

  He smiled down at me. “You look more beautiful from this angle. I could get used to this view, Annie Anne.”

  At some point I was on top of him. I ran my hands through the hair on his chest, and it was soft and fun to play with. I smiled down at him and he reciprocated.

  I didn’t care what kinds of sounds were coming out of my mouth now, or how loud they were. I was whimpering and panting and saying his name over and over again as he pulled my hips into a steady rhythm. And then I threw my head back as the feeling ripped through me and I let out a loud cry. Chris suddenly pulled my head down, bringing me face-to-face with him. He held on to the back of my head, making eye contact before letting out a loud moan.

  When his body relaxed, he kissed me again. And in that moment I finally understood it: Yes, sex can be that good. Yes, you can break the sound barrier with your screams.

  “Fifteen, by the way,” he whispered as he nibbled my lip gently.

  “Fifteen what?”

  “Fifteen out of ten.”

  It took me a minute to get it. It was a reference to that first night together when he said he would rate my sexual ability out of ten.

  I giggled. “Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.”

  “Not too bad…I’m a sex god, what are you talking about?”

  He was being playful and we both burst out laughing.

  He wrapped his arms around me and I felt so safe. I put my head on his chest; his hair was soft against my face. I’d never liked chest hair before, until now. In fact, I like everything about Chris. We held on to each other tightly for a while, and it felt so ridiculously right.