“I’m serious,” I say, spinning in his arms and regretfully putting that view behind me. But it’s soon forgotten when I look up into his dark eyes. “Thank you, for everything. This is…incredible.”
“It’s nothing. You’re worth it and more,” he says before lowering his lips for a sweet kiss. “Are you hungry? The kitchen’s fully stocked with everything we could need.”
I sit at the table and watch as Harrison makes us dinner consisting of cold meats, fresh bread, and fruit along with what I can only imagine is the most expensive wine that’s ever touched my lips. We enjoy our meal sitting out in the warm evening air on the giant outside bed looking over that incredible view.
“Is this what you imagined when you pictured your honeymoon?” Harrison asks after taking a sip of wine. I’m so distracted watching the muscles in his neck when he swallows that he has to repeat his question.
“Honestly, I never really pictured it.”
“You mean you haven’t been planning your wedding all your life?”
“No,” I admit. “It’s not ever been something I’ve been overly concerned about. I didn’t see the point in dreaming about it when it wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. I’ve always been too focused on art school. I never would have pictured this, though…it’s incredible.”
“Do you still want art school? Because we can look for somewhere for you to study in London as soon as we get back, if you want.”
Thoughts of my future once again have my stomach twisting. Of course I still want my career, but do I want to embark on it the second we land in London, while I’ve got the rest of my life to rebuild as well? “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“I think you’re talented enough without it to make it as an artist, but I’ll totally support you if you want to go to university.”
“I’ll think about it. Right now I’m more worried about moving halfway across the world and not knowing anyone.”
“You know me,” he says, pulling me down so we’re lying together and looking up at the stars twinkling above us.
“I do, but turning up as your wife and meeting your family scares me. What if they don’t like me? If they think I’m too young for you?” What if I hate London and miss America?
“They’re going to love you, Summer. Do you know how I know that?” I shake my head, too lost to the serious look in his eyes to respond. “Because I love you.”
Harrison’s so exhausted that it doesn’t take long before he’s falling asleep. I’m torn between waking him and going to bed or just enjoying the evening.
Once I’m confident I won’t disturb him, I take what’s left of our dinner into the villa and do the washing up before grabbing my cell. I’m aware that I haven’t spoken to Ireland throughout all this craziness—not that she’s probably noticed I’ve gone. She’ll be too distracted by her rock star. While I was moping about over Harrison’s unexpected departure, she was on cloud nine with Easton. I was really happy for her; it was about time she found a decent guy, but seeing her so happy only made my own misery even more obvious.
I find it’s completely dead when I pull it from my purse. It takes forever to locate my charger and then an adaptor Harrison said he had in his small carryon, but eventually I find a socket in the living room and power it up. When it finds signal I’m shocked by the number of messages. Most are from Harrison, which I find odd because we’ve been together since the moment he reappeared…why would he be sending me messages?
It soon becomes clear when I open them and begin scrolling through the photographs. It’s basically a photo diary of our wedding night. My hand comes up to cover my mouth and tears sting my eyes as I relive my lost memories. There are selfies of the two of us in the casino, then in a car, I guess heading to the chapel. There are loads of me standing amongst a sea of white and ivory dresses looking deep in thought, and clearly drunk, as I sort through to find the one. Then there are pictures of me in my dress and walking down the aisle towards him. The smile on my face lights up my eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever looked happier as I get closer to the camera and my husband to be. A tear drops onto my cheek as I stare at a close up of what I guess is our first kiss, both of us fighting our smiles. Then there’s more of us looking happy, kissing, until I get to the last one of me asleep in the suite at the hotel room. More tears fall as I stare at that last photograph. Some are sad tears for everything I don’t remember, but they’re overwhelmingly happy at being able to relive it, that Harrison documented everything. I can just see him from my seat on the floor next to the socket in the living room still peacefully sleeping outside and my heart aches at the distance between us. I still have questions and there’s a lot of uncertainty in my head, but I also feel hopeful for the first time in a long time that everything’s going to be okay. I might be moving thousands of miles away to a place I’ve never been, but I feel a little positivity creep in about it despite my fear of meeting his family.
Looking down to my phone, I go back to my other messages and find a huge stream from Ireland wanting to know where I am, why Harrison was demanding my passport information, and what the hell is going on. I instantly feel guilty for not thinking to check earlier. It’s not like me to just disappear and I feel awful just abandoning her without letting her know what’s going on. Working out what the time might be back in Vegas, I hit call on her number and put my phone to my ear, preparing myself for what she might have to say.
“You’re where? On your what?” she squeals so loudly I have to pull my phone away.
“I’m in Greece on my honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon! Explain, Summer,” she demands.
“Your parents are going to freak out, Sum,” she says when I finished telling her everything.
“Don’t,” I groan. I’m not looking forward to that phone call.
“Seriously. They’re going to be pissed. They haven’t talked to you because you moved to Vegas—at least that’s the same country—but London? They’re going to lose their shit.”
“Please, stop,” I beg, not wanting to think about what they’re going to say.
“Are you really sure about this? It’s a huge thing you’re doing to be with him.”
Ireland eventually has to get off the phone for her hot date but I can tell she has plenty more she wants to say.
Leaning against the doorway and watching Harrison sleep, a wave of peacefulness washes through me. I push away everything Ireland said about my family and my future and focus on what I have here—a gorgeous man who loves me and wants to support my dream. The excitement begins to take over the fear that had started to eat at me when I think about my new start. It may have only been a few months since I embarked on what I thought was my new life in Vegas, but I’m now realizing that was just a stop-gap as I waited for Harrison to sweep me off my feet. He told me that was what he was going to do when I found him in that hotel suite, and as I look around me I can honestly say that’s exactly what he’s done.
Pulling the comforter from the bed, I drag it out to where Harrison’s silently sleeping on the decking and cover him up. I want to lie with him but I know there’s no chance of me falling asleep. My body clock was already screwed from working nights, but suddenly finding myself in Europe, I don’t know which way’s up. As quietly as I can, I rummage through the art supplies he arranged for me until I’ve got what I need. Then I sit on the bed and begin something I’ve been dying to sketch—my husband.
Harrison
I’m awake the second the sun rises over the horizon. Looking to the person snoring lightly next to me, I can’t help but smile. She looks so peaceful and beautiful with her hair fanned out over the cushions and my shirt just hiding her bare breasts from me. My already hard cock twitches but I keep my hands to myself—for now. Running my eyes down her body that’s mostly covered by the blanket, they come to a stop when they find an open sketchbook by her feet. Picking it up and turning it over, my breath catches at what I find staring back at me. The likeness to what I see when I look in
a mirror is unbelievable. She’s captured me perfectly, probably without putting too much effort in. Her talent is incredible; how she hasn’t already been discovered is beyond me. My need for the bathroom, unfortunately, drags me away from our outside bed.
When I reappear a while later after showering and finding a clean pair of boxers, she sits up, her eyes finding mine as I walk towards her looking more beautiful than ever with the morning sun lighting up her blonde hair and making her look angelic.
“Morning, beautiful.”
“Morning,” she croaks.
“Here.” I hand her one of the mugs of coffee I made and she smiles sleepily at me. “What time did you fall asleep?”
“No idea. I think it’s going to take me a while to adjust,” she admits.
“We’ve got time. I saw you’d been busy. It’s incredible, Summer.” I flick my eyes over to her sketchbook before looking up to her flushed face. My cock swells seeing the blush to her cheeks; I can’t get enough of her innocence.
“You just looked so peaceful,” she whispers shyly and casts her eyes out to sea.
“Hey, you don’t need to apologize. I’ll be your muse any day.”
When her eyes come back to me, they’re darker than a few minutes ago. “Is that right?”
“Anything for you, remember?”
“I’ll remember that,” she says, her eyes dropping to my half-naked body. I think I know where her thoughts are going.
“Would you like breakfast? We’ve got a basket of fresh fruit.”
“Sure.”
She throws the covers back and goes to get up. “No, stay there. Relax.” Smiling down at her, I drop a kiss to the end of her nose before walking back towards the villa. Her eyes are on me the entire time and when I look back I catch her staring at my arse. “Careful, or I’ll forget all about breakfast, beautiful.” Her cheeks flush the way I love before I turn back to where I’m going. I watch her through the window as she turns over and looks out to sea. Her legs are stretched out and my shirt’s just about covering her bare arse. My mouth waters as I think about going back out to get my fill, but knowing I need to feed my girl has me rearranging myself and continuing to the kitchen.
She doesn’t move until she hears me walking her way. Flipping over so elegantly, I don’t get a look at what I really want, but I can’t feel too disappointed—she is naked under my shirt, after all.
“W…what’s that?” she asks sceptically when she sees the little box alongside our breakfast.
“It’s a present.” She eyes me curiously but doesn’t say any more. Once I have the tray steady on the bed, I reach for the box she’s staring at again.
“Summer, I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. Will you do the honour of…staying married to me?”
Her eyes are full of tears but it doesn’t stop a stunning smile breaking across her face as she registers my words. Pulling the box open I reveal a vintage cushion cut pink sapphire sat in an elegant openwork design encrusted with diamonds.
“Oh wow,” she gushes the moment her eyes land on it. “Harrison, that must have cos—”
“Don’t,” I snap, probably a little too harshly if the look on her face is anything to go by. “You’re my wife. If I want to buy you something, I will. Okay, beautiful?” I take her trembling chin in my hands and she nods gently. “This is priceless, though,” I say, my focus going back to the ring. “It’s been in our family for years. It was my great-grandma’s. It was just waiting for its rightful owner.”
When I look up I’m surprised by the hard expression that’s fallen over Summer’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“Did she wear this?”
“My great-grandmother? Yeah, but only on special occasions, as far as I know.” My words don’t seem to help and I narrow my brows as I try to figure out what’s troubling her.
“That’s not who I meant. Have you already proposed with this ring, Harrison?”
The realisation suddenly dawns. “No, no, no. This ring is yours, Summer, and yours only. I’d never do that.” Her face softens but it’s replaced with frustration.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Hey, it’s okay. I understand. Can I?” I nod to her finger and she holds it out to me. Plucking the ring from its velvet cushion, I slide it up her slender finger until it’s in its rightful home. “Beautiful,” I breathe, lifting my eyes to her face to find her staring down at her hand.
“It’s stunning. Thank you.”
I gently push her down on the bed and crawl over her. Lowering my head, I stop a breath away from her lips and smile to myself when she pouts at my lack of contact. “What?” she grumbles.
“I’m still waiting for your answer.”
It takes her a second to register what I mean, but a smile soon lights up her face before she whispers, “Yes, yes I want to stay married to you.” Reaching up, she wraps her hand around the back of my neck and tugs me down to her.
Her stomach grumbling makes me pull back from her before we end up kicking the breakfast onto the floor in our need for each other.
“Let’s feed you.”
We’re both silent, other than our groans of appreciation for the incredible mix of fruit we sit and devour. I can tell she’s deep in thought every time I look over, so I leave her in peace to her musings. She’ll talk when she’s ready.
“Why didn’t she get it?” she asks eventually, unsurprisingly. I knew it was what she was stewing on.
“It wasn’t right for her. She never understood my love of antiques or vintage jewellery. She was all about new, modern stuff. I guess that should have told me a long time ago that we weren’t a match. She chose her own ring.”
“Romantic,” she mutters, and I can’t help but laugh because most things about my relationship with Rebecca were anything but romantic. “I’m sorry, there’s just so much I want to know.”
“Don’t apologise. When I got home from Vegas it was Danni who first commented on my mood. She and Mum soon dragged the truth out of me, and two days later Mum handed me this and told me to go and do what was needed to get my girl. Apparently, my love life is like an open book to my family.”
“I really hope she likes me.”
“My mum will love you. Danni, too. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Tell me about your family.” She’s been skirting around the subject but I’m as intrigued by her story as she is mine. I’ve just done a better job of holding off asking any more questions because I know they hurt her.
“They didn’t support me and I left. What more is there to say?”
“A lot. When was the last time you spoke to them?”
She drops her gaze and shakes her head, clearly upset by the answer. “A week or so after I moved out. It’s like they stopped caring the second I was gone.”
“You know that’s not true, Summer. Parents never stop caring about their children. Being in a different state, country or whatever, it doesn’t matter.” She looks up, pain and regret in her eyes. “You should call them.”
“Now?”
“Once you’re settled in London. Invite them to visit.”
A sad laugh falls from her lips. “You’re joking, right? They’ve barely been outside of New York, let alone the country.”
“What about your brothers?”
“They’re just as bad. Both married their high-school sweethearts and two kids each. I need to come to terms with the fact that they’re not a part of my life anymore.”
“They can be. Just reach out, you might be surprised. And if you ever want to, just say the word, and we’ll be on a flight to New York. I’d love to meet them.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, they made you. Why wouldn’t I want to meet them, see where you grew up?”
“Because of everything I just said.”
“I could talk to them about that, too.” The panic that fills her face makes me laugh. “One step at a time, yeah?”
Nodding, she snuggles into my side. “We
really should get dressed.”
“Why? We’ve got absolutely nothing to do.”
5
Summer
Before I know it, we’re packing up the small amount of luggage we have ready to head to London. The whole week has been incredible but we haven’t done much. Between Harrison’s almost constant phone calls and emails from work and my jet lag, we’ve pretty much just stayed in the villa and made the most of the peace and quiet—when his phone wasn’t ringing, of course.
I’m a little disappointed that we weren’t able to explore even a tiny bit of Greece, but on the other hand, I do feel like we’ve achieved what we came here to do. I know Harrison so much better and thankfully I haven’t discovered that I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life by marrying him. Yes, it seems that he’s a bit of a neat freak, whereas I’m a slob, and he has these slightly irritating habits of drinking whatever’s in the fridge straight from the carton and leaving the toilet seat up. I think I’ve got used to living with Ireland and not my dad and brothers.
Butterflies kickstart in my stomach as I hear his footsteps head to where I’m making the most of our last few minutes with this view. When I turn to look towards him, I’m immediately distracted from my anxiety of leaving this place for my new home, because he’s wearing something I’ve never seen before—jeans and a t-shirt. I stare with my mouth hanging open, I can’t help it. The thin black cotton hugs his broad shoulders and shows off the definition of his chest and stomach perfectly. My eyes drop to the dark denim hanging low on his hips and hugging his thick thighs. If I wasn’t already totally in love with him, I think I’d have fallen just looking at him right now.
“Everything okay?” he asks, sounding a little unsure of the situation as he lifts his hand and runs it through his hair, ruining what was his perfect styling and turning it into a rough mess that perfectly fits his current look.
Unable to respond, I jump to my feet and run at him. Thankfully, he realizes what I’m about to do and catches me when I launch myself at him and wrap both my arms and legs around his waist. I slam my lips against his and put all my feelings for him into my kiss. I try to express everything he’s given me, not just his love, but my confidence, how I feel about myself when we’re together, and he looks at me like I’m the most beautiful person in the world.
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