Riled Up

by Robin Leaf

  “I’ve never been one of those girls who dreamed of weddings, Riley. Weddings are a waste of time, energy, and money built around an industry that promises fairy tales and happy endings. Fairy tales are a tad unrealistic.” She kissed the end of his nose. “And a happy ending? I really don’t want my happy to end. All I want is to start my life with you. Today. No waiting.” Her crooked half smile left him breathless.

  “It’s no wonder why I love you.” He reached up with his free hand and caressed her face. He pulled her toward him and kissed her. When his tongue entered her mouth, she pulled back and playfully swatted his hand.

  “You know what that does to me, and unless you want to get kicked off this plane and give the tabloids something to gossip about for weeks, you need to not kiss me like that in public.”

  He moved away from her and straightened in his seat. He realized the truth in her teasing. He hadn’t really thought about the ramifications of marrying this girl seated next to him, about what it would mean for her. Potentially, a life watched, followed, scrutinized in every little thing she did. The wife of Riley Tate. He wanted to shelter her from it, not lead her to it. He glanced her direction to see her watching him. He leaned away from her, resting his head in his left hand.

  The conversation he had with her father on the phone popped into his head, the one he made Saturday evening, asking permission to marry Robert Taylor’s daughter. He wanted to smile at the thought, knowing full well Robert Taylor’s daughter would marry whomever she chose, with or without her father’s permission. Luckily, it was given readily, but conditionally, as long as Riley promised to never hurt her. And here he was, unintentionally breaking that promise already, because once the press found out, she could be hurt. She might never be left alone. Hounded, followed, stalked. He didn’t want that for her. She had already been photographed twice to his knowledge. It didn’t seem to bother her, but it did bother him. Immensely.

  He felt her grip on his hand tighten and turned his face to meet hers. Concern etched her eyes.

  “Hey, where’d you go?” she asked cautiously.

  He turned to completely face her, grabbing both her hands. “Before we go through with this, I need you to be sure.”

  “You do have cold feet,” she whispered, obviously troubled by the thought.

  “No, I don’t. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” His left hand cupped her face. “I just need you to understand what you are in for, Vanessa. The press, once they get a hold of this, you could become a marked woman. Mrs. Riley Tate. Fodder for the tabloids. They have never really hounded me, but I’m boring if I’m alone. With a whirlwind romance and a quickie wedding, it might get ugly.” He closed his eyes and clenched his fist. “I’ve seen it with some of my colleagues. The paparazzi, they don’t play nice. They might dig into your past and hound you. They could at the very least embellish the truth or even make things up about you and me. I don’t want you to have to deal with that.”

  “Riley, I can handle it.”

  “Are you sure you want to even try? I don’t want it to be that thing that causes you to…” His words trailed off and he looked down at their hands.

  “What, Riley?” She grabbed his chin and lifted it so his eyes met hers. “Leave you? Is that what you are worried about?”

  He nodded. “Hollywood is not famous for lasting marriages, Vanessa. Usually fame has its way of tearing people apart.”

  Her expression changed and her shoulders shook, trying to hold in laughter. A giggle escaped her, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore. He dropped her hands and faced forward, annoyed that she took this so lightly.

  “Awwww, c’mon, Riley,” she chided between the giggles she was trying so hard to control. “Don’t you see how ridiculous you are being?”

  “Ridiculous? For caring about you?”

  “No,” she sobered. “That part is really sweet.” She reached up and lightly touched his cheek. “But you are worrying about fame breaking us up when you are the most un-famous famous person I know.”

  He felt his brow furrow in confusion. He tried to rerun what she said in his head several times. “Huh?”

  “Riley, you don’t relish the fame, you deal with it. It hasn’t gone to your head. That’s what tears people apart, Riley. Fame changes people. But not you. You are a great guy, and you have found a way to deal with all the limelight that hasn’t ruined who you are.” Her brow furrowed. “Do you not trust me to handle it?”

  “Jeez, Vanessa, it’s not that.”

  “Riley, I’m not going to leave you. No matter what.” She smiled briefly. Her smile faded. “You might, though, when you learn my secret.”

  “A secret?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Yes,” she answered seriously, although the twinkle in her eye counteracted her tone. “I believe in full disclosure since we are about to get married. You deserve to know the truth.”

  “Give me a hint. Does it involve handcuffs? Because I’m not against…”

  “No!” she scoffed. “But it could be a deal breaker.” He thought she might be suppressing a smile.

  “That bad, huh?” He adjusted himself in the seat, said a silent prayer, and faced her again. “Okay, what is it?”

  She swallowed. “Well, I have an addiction.”

  He stared at her for a moment, not sure where she was going with this. “An addict.” He laughed nervously. “Seriously?” She nodded. “Okay. I’m guessing not drugs.”

  “No, you witnessed my one and only experience with anything heavier than an Advil. Not drugs.” The corners of her mouth curled, but she quickly suppressed the smile.

  “Sex?” he asked shyly.

  “Right, Riley, I’m a sex addict who went without for almost four years. Get real.”

  “Then what?” He moved her bangs from her face and tucked her hair behind her ear so he could see her eyes, but she looked down at her hands.

  “Cookie dough.”

  He waited a little before he realized what she said. “Wait, did you say… cookie dough?”

  She nodded. “Straight from the tube. It started about three years ago, a bite here. A bite there. In the last two weeks, I consumed three tubes, although I’m fairly certain Gram helped me on the last one. I have a problem. I thought you ought to know.”

  He couldn’t control the laughter that escaped him. “Cookie dough.” She joined in his laughter.

  “Yes, and it seems to be something I do when I’m stressed. I haven’t wanted any since I saw you Friday. So, I think you may be my cure.”

  He smiled and grabbed both her cheeks. “Good.” He kissed her softly. “I wanna see clean living from here on out.”

  ***

  Riley grabbed their bags from the overhead compartment and looked at Vanessa.

  “You ready?” he asked, his question implying way more than just disembarking the plane.

  She looked in his eyes and smiled. Stretching on tiptoes, she kissed him lightly on the lips. “Yes, Mr. Tate,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m very ready.”

  After they got off the plane, they headed to baggage claim, and Emily was there to whisk Vanessa away too quickly, rattling on about seeing the bride on her wedding day and having way too much to do to stand around. He watched her walk away, smiling over her shoulder at him as Emily dragged her outside. Darby sidled up to him, waited for him to collect his luggage and pulled him in the direction of the limo she secured to take him to her hotel suite.

  The next few hours became a flurry of activity. After Riley tolerated Darby’s pre-wedding, weirdo-spiritual, voodoo-hippie ritual, he had a laconic and tense meeting with Vanessa’s father, a strange first meeting of Vanessa’s step-brother, Seth, and an approving, yet awkward butt pat from Vanessa’s Gram. Finally, he endured a tear-filled, touchy/huggie, rapid-fire Spanish blessing from Graciela.

  He turned to Javier. “Did you find it?”

  Javier smiled, nodded and handed the small box to Riley. “It was right where you said.”<
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  “And my suit?”

  “Graciela insists it needs to be pressed. She took it in the other room.” Javier grabbed Riley’s hand. “I am very happy for you, Riley.”

  Riley blushed and smiled. “Thanks, Javi. I’m happy for me, too.”

  After Graciela reappeared, he set off into the room to change.

  He pulled out his phone to check the time just when it buzzed in his hand.

  Miss me, Mr. Tate?

  He smiled, so glad that he and Vanessa finally saved each other’s numbers in their phones, and replied.

  So much. Love me, Dr. Taylor?

  Immediately she responded. Immensely. One more hour…

  His smile was bigger this time. …is too long. He hit send and put the phone back in his pocket.

  “I’m so happy to see that back,” Darby stated, pointing at his face. “You know I’m all about spiritual commitments, Riley, and that conventional marriage is not my thing, but I know how you were raised and what a big deal this is to you. I also know that you will probably be mad for what I’m about to ask, but I owe it to your mom. You’re sure she is the one?”

  “With every fiber of my being,” he answered without hesitation.

  She squinted, placed her hand over his heart, and looked deep into his eyes. Her face relaxed and she patted his chest.

  “Yep, you believe that.” She smiled. “Thank you for making me your best person.” Her voice cracked on the last syllable and her eyes filled with tears.

  He placed his hand over hears. “You’re the only one to fit the title, Darbs.”

  She wiped her tear with her free hand and smiled. “You know I love you, right?”

  “Just like you know I love you.”

  ***

  “You ready, Chief?” Darby whispered just as the music started playing. He couldn’t answer, all speech left his brain as he concentrated on the vision before him. His heart squeezed in his chest at the first sight of the woman who, in a few short minutes, would become his wife. She was stunning, so breathtakingly beautiful that his knees almost gave way. Her upswept hair accentuated her gracefully long neck. The white, strapless dress she wore was simple and elegant, and the royal blue sash around her waist accentuated every curve he loved about her.

  Darby gasped and grabbed his hand. “Wow, Riley, she is …”

  “Perfect.”

  Riley was so glad whoever booked this thing opted for the short wedding with traditional vows so he could be prompted to repeat his vows. He knew the nervousness he was feeling right now would in no way allow him to remember any vows he may have written; the irony of his profession where memorizing lines was necessary was not lost on him. She placed a simple white-gold band on his finger and made her promises, but he knew he would always remember the look on her face when he placed the half-carat, square-cut diamond, which was surrounded by a uniquely delicate filigree setting and its matching band with tiny diamonds, on her finger.

  “It was my grandmother’s,” he explained, noticing the unnamed emotion coloring her face and the tears spilling down her cheeks while she stared at her left hand.

  “Oh, Riley, it’s beautiful,” she whispered. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  “Well,” the minister stated, “we really hadn’t gotten to that part yet, but whatever.” The attendees giggled, but Riley and Vanessa didn’t stop. “Okay, you may continue kissing your bride.”

  Someone cleared his throat, but it didn’t curtail the kiss. Finally the minister just talked over them. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Tate.”

  Riley and Vanessa both broke the kiss at the same time, smiled and corrected, in unison, “DOCTOR Tate.”

  Author’s note: Originally, this was the end, but my friends encouraged me to write more. They meant they wanted an epilogue, I’m sure, but I kind of got a little carried away with the “more.” So… the next three chapters are what one might call bonus chapters before the epilogue. Enjoy.

  THIRTY ONE

  The small room for the reception was impeccable. Whoever Darby and Emily hired to plan the party on such short notice really needed to be paid triple. Although the guests were few, Riley wanted all the traditions – the cake, the first dance, the toasts, the bouquet toss, the garter – to be memorable for Vanessa, the fairy tale she didn’t seem to believe existed. However, traditions and niceties took forever. He saw her across the room; reality hit him. She was his wife, the wife he didn’t plan to have a month ago. He liked that. His. Wife. He loved her more than he thought possible.

  He tried not envisioning all the things he wanted to do to her, but flashes of memories of her naked underneath him mixed with fantasies of just how he would get her that way made it almost impossible to think about anything else. He wanted to get her alone. Now.

  He intently watched her private exchange with Emily from across the room. She snuck glances in his direction, blushing and looking downward each time she broke their connection and looked back to Emily. The private smiles they shared told him she was probably thinking the same naughty thoughts he was. It took immeasurable restraint for him to remain in his spot leaned up against the bar, for every time she looked at him with the hooded eyes of desire, love, and devotion, all he wanted to do was run across the room, wrap her legs around him and bury himself deeply inside her, much like he did the first time they had sex. What he did in that shower was so unlike him, so unlike the way he was raised. But the more he watched her, the more he wanted to drag her into a dark corner and… No. Jeez, this was difficult. He would have to enlist additional restraint this evening or the romantic wedding night he really wanted for her would be ruined.

  When he could take no more, he leisurely made his way across the room, acutely aware of his slow pace. He wrapped his arms around her waist, thumbs grazing the bottom of her breasts, and bent down to drag his lips from her shoulder, up her neck to her ear.

  “Dr. Mrs. Tate, are you ready for me to,” he flicked his eyes to Emily, realizing he probably shouldn’t say the dirty thing he was about to say in front of her, “um, I mean, are you ready to leave?”

  Vanessa spun around and wrapped her arms around him, kissed him just under his ear. “Yes,” she husked. "I am very… ready. If you would like, we could step over to that corner and I could let you find out how ready I am?”

  “Yeah. That’s my girl,” Emily praised. “Go upstairs. Get naked.”

  “But everyone else…” Vanessa began.

  “Will understand. Go. Your dad and Gram already said goodnight. You’re good.”

  Riley smiled at Emily and grabbed Vanessa’s hand, pulling her toward the exit. “Thanks and goodnight everyone!” he called and towed her out of the room.

  “Wait!” Darby called. Vanessa and Riley both turned to wait for Darby outside the door.

  “Make it quick, Darbs,” Riley playfully growled.

  “Here.” She handed Vanessa a small gift bag. “You have to promise me you will open this as soon as you get upstairs.”

  “Promise,” Vanessa vowed. “Thank you, Darby.” She smiled and hugged Darby. “And I mean for everything you’ve done. Tonight was perfect.”

  “Well, it will be soon,” Riley breathed, making Vanessa blush. “But she’s right.” He kissed Darby on the cheek. “Thanks, Darbs.”

  “You are both welcome. And let me know how things go.”

  “I’ll send you pictures,” Riley replied over his shoulder dragging Vanessa away.

  Vanessa giggled and pushed the button to summon the elevator. “Melvin Riley Tate, you are not planning to take pictures of us, are you?”

  “Nope.” The elevator doors opened and he led her inside. He bent lower to her ear dropping his voice to a whisper. “And as much as I’d like to take you up on your offer to see how ready you are against this wall here, we have to behave in the elevator.” He pointed to the upper left corner. “Cameras.” He kissed her neck just below her ear. “I’m selfish, Vanessa.” He kissed her lightly on t
he lips, never breaking eye contact with her. “I want to be the only one who gets to see you naked and writhing.”

  She stiffened and pulled away. He watched her face contort and pale before his eyes. “Vanessa?” She took several deep breaths, so he backed away from her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Room card?” He handed it to her and told her the room number. The elevator opened and she bolted from it. He hurried after her. He had witnessed several of her panic attacks, and this didn’t seem like one of them. He wondered if what he had said could make this so upset or if she was just claustrophobic. There were still so many things they didn’t know about each other.

  He got to the suite just before the door closed and visually searched the large suite for a clue as to where she had gone. That’s when he heard her in the bathroom. “Vanessa, are you okay?”

  “No,” she moaned.

  “Can I come in?”

  There was a pause. “I guess.”

  He opened the door and saw her sitting on the floor next to the toilet, back against the wall, with her head between her knees.

  “You might not want to be in here,” she whispered.

  “Didn’t I just promise to be with you in sickness and in health?” He wet a wash cloth and handed it to her. “Did you throw up?”

  “No,” she said, holding the cool cloth against her face. “I really hate to throw up.”

  “Might make you feel better.”

  “It’s passing.”

  He kneeled and placed his hands on her knees. “Did you drink too much?”

  “No. Besides the sip of champagne for the toast, I had only tea all night. I already told you once I don’t like to drink, Riley,” she added, a tad defensive.

  “Okay, so do you think it was something you ate?” Riley sat on the floor in front of her.

  “Doubtful. All I ate was the potatoes. I didn’t eat lunch. My stomach was queasy. I chalked it up to nerves.”