by Shayla Black
“Never,” I vow. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to realize what I should have known weeks ago. I think I fell for you the first time I touched you. I just didn’t know.”
She sniffles and finally opens her eyes. Hope, sharp and bright, illuminates her dark eyes. “You’re not just saying that?”
Before she’s even finished, I’m shaking my head. “You know I’m not a liar, just like you know I’m not good at sparing anyone’s feelings. I finally understand what’s in my heart. But if you still don’t believe me, I’ll be happy to repeat it until you do. Preferably while I’m inside you.”
Finally, she laughs through her tears. “I love you so much.”
Gently, I swipe my thumbs across her cheeks to dry them. “I know. And I feel like the worst ass imaginable for putting you through weeks of worrying and wondering and uncertainty.”
“It’s okay. I know you’ve been struggling. I just thought… When I opened the door, I was worried you were coming to tell me you weren’t ready for a baby, so you couldn’t marry me.”
I’m still not entirely sure I’m ready for the fatherhood thing. But Nia and our child are a package deal, and I have months to figure it out.
I lean in, kiss her forehead and the tip of her nose before sliding down to brush the softest buss over her lips. “What do you say we start over? Today marks the beginning of our lives together, and I can’t think of a better way to celebrate than by getting married to the woman who’s changed my life, my heart, and my future.”
“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Softly, she nods. “Yes. A thousand times yes. See you at the altar at two.”
“Are you kicking me out?” I frown.
“I am. I have a wedding to get ready for.”
“Damn, I thought I was taking you to bed so I could show you how much I love you.”
Now Nia is downright giggling, and it makes my heart feel so light. “Save it for our wedding night, mister.”
A big smile breaks across my face. I feel triumphant, like the time I built a life-size Mars Exploration Rover for the hell of it and made it roam the nearby park. The project was frustrating and took a shitload of time and brainpower. But once I managed, success felt really damn rewarding.
“Oh, I have so many plans for you, my soon-to-be Mrs. Cook.”
She winks. “I’m counting on it.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Two o’clock finally rolls around. It’s a balmy, breezy day. Blindingly sunny. Cheerful. Hopeful.
Wearing a dark gray tuxedo, I stand in front of a tall, rectangular trellis on Keeley and Maxon’s lawn, framing a stretch of Hawaiian beach mere feet beyond. It’s wrapped in flowing white drapes and trimmed with what seems like hundreds of white tropical flowers. In fact, everything around me is white—the bows around the chairs, the ribbons, the runner down the middle of the aisle. It’s all pristine and beautiful. Classic.
Keeley, Britta, and Harlow have done a fantastic job tossing these nuptials together in under two weeks. It’s a far cry from my wedding to Becca. This is a true celebration of the union between me and the first woman to truly hold my heart.
I’m past caring if that sounds illogical. It’s undeniable. Sebastian advised me to just go with it. I am. He’s my best man. We’ve been friends for nearly a decade and apparently he gives damn good advice. I wouldn’t be here today without him.
As if he knows what I’m thinking, Bas claps me on the back. “You look happy.”
I nod. “Maybe for the first time ever. I never thought I’d say this, but thank you for taking me to the burlesque club to show me a nearly naked Nia.”
“You’re welcome.” Bas winks. “I had a suspicion you’d like the view.”
“I did. But after that, I couldn’t not see her as a woman. I needed that.” Just like I needed Nia, her open arms, and her big heart.
He laughs. “Did you ever…”
The ending strains of a song floats through the salt-heavy air, just above the distant sounds of the crashing surf. A woman on a pre-recorded track is waxing vocally through the speakers about her special man and wanting a couple of forevers with him. I hope Nia feels that way about me. I hope we spend the next fifty years together, raising our children and building a good life. I refuse to think something terrible could happen to take her or the baby from me. Not today, not when I’m just beginning to really live.
Maxon, Griff, and Noah finish escorting the last of our guests to their chairs, then take their own seats. My side of the aisle is more crowded than Nia’s. Even so, I couldn’t miss her cousin Annabelle—a lovely African-American woman flanked by three hovering lawyers. Hard to believe she’s committed to them all. It’s an unconventional relationship, but it works for them. Eric and Kellan seem like decent guys, but I really connected with Tate. If they lived closer, I’ll bet he and I would be great friends.
On one side of the altar, Keeley’s bright red hair glints in the sun as her bohemian blue dress flows around her ankles. She smiles at me, microphone in hand. Britta and Harlow both stand at the back in the open doorway of the picturesque bed-and-breakfast, waiting for their musical cue.
Finally the song ends. Harlow lifts her arm and holds up her thumb. Nia is ready. This is it, the moment I’ve been wanting all day. Hell, for weeks.
She’s really going to marry me.
The opening notes to another song begins. A piano taps out slow, almost thoughtful groups of notes. Then Keeley chimes in with a slow ballad about having her lover’s heart forever. More instruments join in. A drum. A violin. The musicians must be behind the drape. It’s still a simple arrangement. It’s also sweeping and romantic.
As Nia comes toward me on Lorenzo’s arm, the song echoes the sentiment in my heart. I am truly in love, truly head-over-heels. I need her. I may be tying myself to her today, but her devotion, quite simply, has set me free.
She draws closer—and steals my breath dressed in a simple sheath dress. Sheer straps cling to her shoulders and mirror the lace that covers her from the tops of her breasts to the bottoms of her ankles. A band of white flowers flows along the top of her head. A long stretch of tulle falls from it, all the way to the floor.
And she’s smiling at me. The expression is open, genuine, and full of joy. She’s ecstatic to be marrying me. My heart feels so light, as if it’s so filled with helium it might float out of my chest.
As Keeley finishes singing, Nia reaches my side, white bouquet in hand. Lorenzo hands her off to me with a smile as bright as any proud father’s and gives me a clap on the back. “Take care of her.”
“I will,” I vow.
To my left, I hear Guilia quietly sniffling. On my right, my foster mother, Diana, does the same. My siblings and their spouses are all smiling. And my wife-to-be looks at me like she can’t wait to say “I do.”
Lono starts the ceremony, his loud Hawaiian shirt billowing in the breeze. Nia’s hands shake when he tells me to take them in mine. We speak our vows, looking into one another’s eyes. Her voice trembles. My heart thuds.
The last few years flash through my memories. The day I interviewed her, she entered my tiny office wearing a confident tilt of her head and a purple suit, demonstrating an organized style that blew me away. I remember the first time Becca was too overwhelmed by a corporate event I needed her to organize so I could woo a client. Nia stepped in at the last minute to play hostess, decked in a red dress that stole the show and had my potential customer panting. I definitely can’t forget the night she came to my place to make me gumbo and I first saw her not just as a female but as a beautiful woman I desire.
Finally, Lono says to kiss my bride. No one needs to tell me twice.
With a smile, I bend and cup Nia’s face. “You’re mine now, wife.”
“Kiss me, husband.”
Her words are faint but unmistakable above the Hawaiian breeze. And I take them to heart, sealing our vows with the first meeting of our mouths, signaling the beginning of our lives
together.
God, we haven’t made love since Nia discovered she was pregnant. She was withdrawn after the news. Then there wasn’t time. All the wedding preparations seemed endless. My two weeks of vacation from the office turned into three. I missed a December second meeting with Lund, I think. I don’t know right now. I don’t care, either. He can wait until December twenty-ninth. I’ll call him if I have questions.
The only things that matters to me—the only things that will truly matter for the rest of my life—are this woman I’m kissing passionately and the child she’s carrying.
“Come up for air,” Bas advises softly in my ear with a chuckle.
I ignore him. Instead, I press my lips to Nia’s again and again. Then… Fuck it, I’m going in for tongue. I’ve missed her like hell. I love her like mad. I want her to know. Screw what everyone else thinks.
“Oh, my gosh… Get a room!” Harlow calls from the audience.
Everyone laughs, even Nia. Reluctantly, I end the kiss and step back.
“Now that I’m not worried we’ll be witnessing the consummation of this marriage at the altar, I pronounce you man and wife,” Lono jokes. “Mr. and Mrs. Evan Cook, everyone!”
Our guests all chuckle. Nia looks as if she can’t decide whether to be excited or embarrassed. I have no such problem making up my mind. I’m proud as hell as I raise our joined hands and run back down the aisle while everyone tosses white petals our way.
We have a few precious moments alone inside the cool, shaded tent set up on the far side of the lawn. I don’t waste a single second. I simply grab Nia in my arms and pull her against me, covering her mouth with mine until I hear people approaching.
Reluctantly, I end with one last peck, then back away. “I’ve missed you.”
Her face softens. “I’ve missed you, too. Your visit this morning meant everything to me. You love me.”
“I do.”
The most radiant smile lights her up. I dare any man to show me a more beautiful bride. He’d fail, I’m sure of it.
“I love you, too. And we’re going to have a great wedding night.”
“Damn right we are.”
She’s laughing as our collective friends and family all approach. Congratulations begin. Lorenzo and Guilia reach us first, the big man full of hugs and boisterous laughter. Guilia dabs at tears and embraces Nia as lovingly as she would her very own daughter.
Diana grabs me in an uncharacteristic bear hug. “I’m so happy for you.”
She surprised me by flying in late last night. I haven’t seen her since Becca’s funeral and I didn’t expect her to come from her artistic pilgrimage through Asia to see me get married a second time. “It means a lot to me that you came.”
“I had to see this woman for myself. But Nia is perfect for you. We talked for a few minutes last night.” Diana smiles genuinely. “She’s got enough ambition and spark to both keep up with and challenge you.”
Becca didn’t, according to my foster mother. She’s right, but now isn’t the time to talk about the past. “I think Nia is perfect, too.”
Others join in. Music begins. Drinks flow. Food and cake follow. Dancing commences. I even learned how for Nia. Well, kind of. I’m sure I look like a dolt, but I don’t care. It’s a celebration in every sense of the word.
As evening wanes, Nia talks animatedly with Keeley, Britta, Harlow, and Annabelle a few feet away, so Eric, Kellan, and Tate sidle up to me, looking toward their woman, as if they never let her too far out of their sight.
“Thanks for coming all the way from New Orleans, especially on short notice. I know having family here makes Nia happy.”
“Our pleasure,” Eric says. “We’re glad we could see Nia tie the knot.”
Kellan nods. “In truth, the Hawaiian getaway made our Belle happy, too.”
“Exactly,” Tate agrees. “We always look for ways to tell her that we love her. But the best way is with our penises.”
I nearly spit out my drink. Eric snickers.
Kellan groans. “Dude…”
“What? We always show Belle we love her with our penises. And this vacation we’re hoping to say it with our sperm, as well. We’re trying to conceive a baby.”
I barely manage to swallow my scotch without coughing it down. “Well…good luck with that.”
“Seriously, Tate…” Kellan looks ready to clobber his buddy. “They didn’t need to know that.”
“I don’t see the problem.” Tate gestures my way. “I’m pretty sure Evan is going to show Nia how much he loves her with his penis tonight. Maybe even his sperm.”
The people around Tate may see him as embarrassing or socially awkward, but he’s candid, factual, and logical.
“Absolutely,” I assure him with a laugh.
Within minutes, Tate and I find ourselves in a heated debate of Edison versus Tesla, who was better and why. While Eric and Kellan seem to glaze over, I’m defending the fact that AC current was in every way superior to DC and that Edison was kind of a vindictive asshole to Tesla. Then Nia strolls up and threads her arm through mine.
At the same time, I see Annabelle sandwich herself between Eric and Kellan, then reach a hand out to cup Tate’s shoulder and soothe him. “Hi, baby.”
“Just a minute, Belle. I’m telling junior over here all the reasons he’s wrong.”
Before I can say a word, Annabelle leans in. “So, you don’t want to go to our room and…”
She whispers the rest of her suggestion in his ear.
Tate’s eyes widen. When she eases away, Tate actually flushes. A whole different kind of electricity pings off him.
“Yes, I do. And yes, we should. Night, all.” He wraps his arm around Annabelle and makes to haul her away.
“Let’s do the same,” I tell my wife.
Grinning, Annabelle calls over her shoulder to Nia, “I think you and I went shopping at the same husband store.”
We all laugh.
Eric and Kellan follow them out. The crowd is winding down. Most of my family has already left, as the wives don’t seem to have as much energy now that they’re nearing the end of their pregnancies.
I bring Nia against me. “Let’s take this celebration private. What do you say?”
She sends me a sly smile. “Are you going to show me how much you love me with your penis?”
After twelve long, aching nights without her? Now that she’s finally my wife?
I scoop Nia up into my arms, lift her against my chest, and plant a hard kiss on her lips. “Oh, yeah. All night.”
“Where are we going?” Nia asks a few minutes later as I speed down a two-lane road in one of Noah’s high-performance sports cars.
I’ve got one suitcase, two bottles of sparkling cider, and a whole slew of dirty thoughts on board.
“You’ll see.”
She sends me a curious glance. “What are you up to?”
“At least eight inches.”
That makes her giggle. “I meant, what do you have up your sleeve?”
“You should know by now that what I have is down my pants.” I wink. “Want to see?”
She rolls her eyes at my bad joke. “If I peek while you’re driving, we’ll probably have to pull over on the side of the road. Then we’ll never make it to wherever we’re going.”
I glance at Nia. She was a beautiful bride, but now she’s my incredibly alluring wife. I want her all to myself.
“Sadly, you’re right. I’m afraid if you even breathe on me too much right now, I’ll be all over you.”
“Gosh, that sounds terrible,” she teases.
“Positively awful, right?”
“The worst.” She drops her hand on my thigh.
“Nia…”
“It’s so”—she drags her palm up my leg until her fingers trail over my balls, then she cups my shaft—“hard to figure out how I’m going to endure your attention. I’ll have to think long…” She moans as she strokes my length through my tuxedo pants, which are suddenly way too cons
tricting.
“About what?” I choke out.
“How to put up with you tonight. I have ideas…”
“I do, too.”
“Tell me.”
Clamping my fingers around her wrist, I drag her hand away from my cock. I need to take control of this situation or we won’t make it to our romantic destination before I fall on her and fuck her like a madman. “Lift your dress, take off your panties, and show me your pussy.”
Nia gapes at me. The air seems to dissipate from the car. She freezes, except for her harsh breathing, and stares at me.
“Now,” I insist softly. “I want to see you, wife.”
She closes her eyes. “Your command shouldn’t turn me on that much.”
But it does, and I’m a lucky son of a bitch. I feel even luckier when she pulls up her dress to the tops of her thighs and reaches under the lace sheath. With a shift and a wriggle, she comes up clutching a tiny taupe-colored thong.
I hold out my hand. “Give it to me.”
“W-what are you going to do?”
“Keep it.”
She lets out a shuddering breath and sets the scrap of hot silk in my hand.
I shove it in my coat pocket and cast her an impatient stare. “Thank you. But I can’t see your pussy yet.”
“What if someone pulls up beside us?”
“Who? There’s no one on this road, and if another driver comes close, it’s my problem. I’ll handle it. Show me your pussy, Nia. Now.”
“You’re awfully demanding.”
“It’s your fault. I was never this way before you.”
That makes her smile. The expression is hesitant and nervous. And aroused. It’s so beautifully female.
Then she raises her dress around her hips. I wish like hell I had more light in the car, but I know her bare ass rests against the seat. I see her pressing her slender thighs together. I laugh. As if that’s going to soothe her ache… I already know it won’t because even in the shadowy interior, I see her sex shimmering with wetness.
“Touch yourself for me.”
If I do it, we definitely won’t make it out of this car. And fucking my wife here, even if I could figure out how logistically, would be decidedly unromantic, especially for our first time as man and wife. She deserves better.