“Well, you’re gorgeous, you can sing, you can dance, you’re all artistic… You would probably have been walking around with those baggy pants, tight shirts, and a hoodie, a knit cap under, and two hundred dollar shoes.”
“That outfit sounds awesome, actually.” He put his hand at the base of my neck. What was I saying? Oh, preppy husband, but before I could continue teasing him I realized that the car was slowing down and parking in front of our hotel. David stepped out of the limo, holding the door for me and grabbing my hand to help me out.
“We should have changed,” he growled in my ear. I looked around and saw that everyone was looking at us, the obvious bride and groom arriving at their hotel room.
Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.
I could only imagine what David was feeling right now. He looked like someone just hit him with a Mack truck. He grabbed our little overnight bag and then literally drug me to the front desk, where he hurriedly gave them our name so we could get our key.
“Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, congratulations! We are so excited to have you staying with us tonight.” The lady at the front desk started screaming her welcome, making sure everyone in this half of the United States could hear her. She was obviously excited to have honeymooners.
“Thankyouverymuch.” David said, with pained annoyance, doing everything but snapping at her to get our key. I didn’t see what the big deal was. So people were looking at us. It wasn’t like we looked bad - we looked amazing. We looked like two people who had just gotten married, and were in love, and we looked young and happy. What was the big deal?
David was probably thinking that this wasn’t much better than walking in a parade with a million trombones howling behind us, holding a giant banner that said “WE ARE ABOUT TO DO IT!” above our heads.
“Ok, Mr. Johnson, here is your key. Remember, the honeymoon suite gets complimentary breakfast in bed. In addition, you can always use room service to deliver your meals no matter what time of day.” She smiled gleefully at David, whose face was so white I almost died from pure adorableness.
“Or night!” She placed the room key cards in his momentarily paralyzed hand, beaming with joy.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, grabbed my hand, and raced to the elevator.
“Are you trying to get me to our room, or are you trying to get away from these people?” I hissed in his ear when the elevator doors closed and we were alone.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize all of Montana would be here tonight!” he snapped, but his shoulders relaxed, his face calmed, and he looked at me with those agonizingly beautiful eyes of his. The doors opened and we stepped out onto the tenth floor. David moved like a turtle, acting like he was carrying six suitcases instead of the one little overnight bag we had packed. I tried very hard not to run down the hall, slap the wall, run back to him, tag his hand and then run back again. I’m sure at the speed he was going I could do a good ten laps before he got to our room. Even in a beast of a wedding gown.
“Would you hurry up?!” I squealed, no longer able to contain myself.
“Lucy, I’m moving at normal speed, we just got out of the elevator.” He smirked at me. That excited look finally lighting his eyes, and smoldering me into a stupor.
“No, I think you’re just a sloth," I said, jumping in my heels as we walked, inch-by-inch down the hall.
“Here, room 419,” he said, staring at the numbers then turning his whole face to me. It was white. He was freaking out.
I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to be worried, that this was going to be amazing and he needed to just stop thinking about it and psyching himself out, but I didn’t have to.
He dropped our bag, put his arms around my waist, and brought me against him. His strong hand cupped my face and he held my eyes with his.
“You’re my wife, Lucy Johnson.” He spoke in that deep voice he got when he was trying to hold back emotion.
I didn’t get a chance to answer because he was kissing me. There was a new passion in his lips that I had never felt before. It was strong and urgent. I put my hand on the door knob to try to open it but whatever brain cells I once had were completely gone now, my hand just simply fumbled around in the air. He chuckled as he pulled the card out of his pocket and slid it through the key slot.
David, my husband, scooped me up in his arms. He pushed the door open, swept into the suite, and then kicked the door closed behind him, leaving our night bag out in the hall.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Aurora Smith is a bombshell. She’s super spiritual and never does anything wrong. Ever. She spends her free time training her show-dog, Nicodemus (a Great Dane), to ice cupcakes while barking along to the National Anthem. She lives in a mansion in Washington state (a huge mansion). She has some kids and a spouse and they’re pretty cool.
You can find her on Facebook if you want to be a stalker, or read her blog: redmybooksandlosetenpounds.blogspot.com
My Stupid Girl Page 45