Drunk in Love

by Anthology

  “It’s my honorary right as husband to be to carry you over the threshold.”

  Still laughing, she ducks her head so it lies in the crook my neck. “You’re supposed to wait until the wedding night,” she tells me.

  “I’m pretty sure according to tradition we were supposed to wait to do other stuff until the wedding night too, but we didn’t wait for that either.” I squeeze her leg. “Good thing we aren’t conformists.” Tressa’s body shakes with laughter as she relaxes against me.

  I nod to the small podium where several valets stand. The job is one with the highest turnover, so I don’t recognize any of them, but as soon as we step into the lobby I recognize two employees that have been at the resort for as many years as I’ve been alive.

  “Katherine!” I greet the older woman with a smile that matches her broadened rosy cheeks.

  “Cam!” she calls affectionately. “If your soon-to-be bride wasn’t here, I’d tan your hide for having been gone for so long.”

  Laughing, I clutch Tressa to me even more tightly to feign fear, causing her to giggle before Katherine’s attention focuses on my soon-to-be wife.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet the woman who has captured Cam’s heart.” Katherine beams, overflowing with pride for me, the son she never had yet raised like her own.

  “Oh, the pleasure is mine!” Tressa says, struggling to get free of my tightened grasp. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Katherine laughs as Tressa finally swings her attention to me, a deep scowl silently threatening me bodily harm if I don’t oblige with releasing her.

  I don’t.

  “We’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted later,” Katherine says, reaching into the top drawer of the station she’s behind. “For now, why don’t you guys get your things settled before everyone is demanding your full attention.” She slides four hotel room keys across the black marble counter.

  I wink as I grab the short stack and set off toward the elevators.

  “You know I think you’re crazy for wanting separate rooms, right?” I ask.

  “It will make it more special if you don’t spend every single waking and sleeping moment with me.”

  “That’s crazy though. I’m marrying you because I want to spend every second with you.”

  She places a palm on each of my cheeks. Her gaze is so intense I find myself stopping before we reach the bank of elevators, because like every other moment that I’m around Tressa, I find myself completely and helplessly captivated by her.

  “I love you, Camden Hayes,” she tells me.

  3

  CHAPTER THREE

  Tressa

  When Camden tells me he loves me, his eyes are wide and relaxed with sincerity, but when he hears them from me, they are the opposite of relaxed. Instead, his blue eyes grow tight around the outside edges as his smile grows, like they are currently. I smile, vowing to never take those three special words for granted ever again and also to share them as much as possible.

  He kisses me and while there’s some residual heat from our previous kiss outside, this one is sweeter and softer as though he’s cherishing me.

  We set off again and though I hate being carried and hate the looks we’re receiving even more, I don’t complain because the softness in his eyes and the smile reserved just for me makes me willing to compromise on things I previously thought were ridiculous.

  “How do you know where we’re going?” I ask.

  “Because I requested the rooms,” he tells me, punching in one of the top floors on the elevator.

  “I still can’t believe how vague you always were about this place. When you mentioned you spent a lot of time where your parents worked, I didn’t expect to see one of the fanciest resorts in Vermont.”

  He shrugs. “It just was what I was used to as a kid. For a long time I didn’t realize this wasn’t the norm. Kinda scary, huh?”

  I smirk. “Tell me you realized that not every kid grows up at a hotel before you left for college,” I tease.

  “Didn’t I tell you?” His eyebrows rise high on his forehead as he looks directly at me. “I only learned that when you invited me to your house to meet your parents for dinner.”

  I burst out laughing as he works to keep a straight face, which makes me laugh even harder.

  The golden doors part at the correct floor, and Camden turns to the left, taking long strides down the hallway; this time his focus is seemingly set on nothing but a door that we reach near the very end of the hall.

  He fans the cards out. “Pick a card, any card.”

  I can’t stop the laugh from escaping my lips as I randomly grab the third card and hand it to him. I feel like I’m on cloud nine. Everything seems wonderful and joyous and perfect.

  Camden smiles as he flashes the card in front of the lock but a red light refuses our entry.

  “Double or nothing,” he says, again fanning the remaining three cards.

  “Double or nothing?” I eye him curiously. “What are we betting on?”

  His lips turn thin as he smiles impossibly wide. “You already know everything is going to be about sex for the next, oh, fifty years or so. Don’t act surprised.”

  “Only fifty years?”

  “Well, I figured if I told you that, you wouldn’t get a break from being me sexretary for fifty years.”

  “Your sextretary?’ I ask, working to keep a teasing and light tone.

  “Yeah. I’ll have my big corner office and an even bigger office at home and you can quit your job and be a stay-at-home mom and my own personal sexretary.”

  The word made me giggle upon first use, but now that I’ve heard it three times I find it hard not to cringe. “I’m not quitting my job,” I tell him. “I want a big corner office too. And I don’t even know that I want kids.”

  Camden jerks his head back and his brows lower with obvious concern. “You love kids.”

  “But that doesn’t mean I want them. I mean, I might. I don’t know …”

  His eyes are naturally such a dark blue that it can be difficult to decipher their color unless you pay attention, but as he widens them I can trace the lighter shades that lighten his irises and make them truly mesmerizing. “We’ll figure it out,” he assures me. “Whatever happens we’ll be together and happy and that’s what matters.”

  His words make it all sound so simple. So easy. I kiss him, wanting to buy into this brand of trouble-free living that makes me wish to throw up my hair, kick off my shoes, and dance to the sound of an effortless life. Camden doesn’t miss a beat. His fingers tighten where they’re gripping my thigh, and his lips move over mine like a well-choreographed number until I begin to slide down from his grasp as he attempts another hotel key. Laughing, I clutch tight to his shoulders as he swears at the door, and then the keys, and then himself as once again the wrong key is tried.

  Finally, the door clicks and the light turns green, granting us access to one of the two hotel rooms we rented for the week.

  “When we retell this story, can we lie and say that was a super suave and romantic move and leave out the part where I nearly dropped you?” Camden asks, nodding in hopes of convincing me further.

  “I was planning on telling people you did drop me.”

  He laughs quietly against my hair and then leans closer so the warmth of his lips wraps around the shell of my ear. “You would, wouldn’t you? And you know they’ll all believe you because you look so sweet and innocent, like you aren’t even capable of thinking up a lie, let alone telling one.”

  “That’s their mistake,” I murmur. “Maybe we both quit our jobs and become professional heisters.”

  Camden snakes a hand up my belly and between my breasts then places his palm flat against my breast bone and runs his hand slowly back down.

  Thoughts of lies and heists and careers and even kids disappear from my mind because I am focused on the heat emanating from his touch and the trail of goose bumps he created. I want him to do it again. I want to feel his
hands discovering, teasing, and savoring every part of me.

  He releases the button on my jeans with just his thumb and forefinger and with practiced ease lowers the denim down my thighs, past my calves, and tosses them aside.

  The room that had felt cold upon entering now feels too warm as my heart races with anticipation and excitement. I can tell by his hooded eyelids that he’s going to take his time and knowing that has me ready to peel off my shirt and underwear so I can lie down and let him get started.

  “How’d I get so lucky?” he asks while running his hands up my stomach again, raising my blouse with every inch his hands travel.

  I want to respond with something snarky so he’ll be encouraged to hurry up, but I can’t get any words to make sense as his thumbs trace the outline of the lavender bra I chose hoping that Camden would see it. He goes crazy over lingerie with lace and while this garment only has triangles of the fabric I’d sought out for that exact purpose, what makes this piece so eye catching is the black stitches that attach the lace to the silk that are large and exaggerated.

  I know as soon as he has my shirt up high enough to get a full view because a deep hum comes from the back of his throat, and he stops tracing where my skin and bra meet, instead making a fast path over my nipples. I swear his stare is heavier than his touch, which has me going crazy with anticipation for what he’s going to do next.

  My thoughts and lust fog the sounds and realization of our hotel room door opening until I hear a scream that clears my mind in a split second. Jerking my head toward the doorway, I see a woman I only recognize from the few pictures of his family Camden has in his house. His mom.

  Unsure of what to cover, I splay one arm across my chest and use my other hand to make the small V-shaped fabric of my underwear larger. My heart beats wildly against my arm, caught in the crossfire of lust and embarrassment and fear.

  “Mom!” Camden barks. “What are you doing?”

  “I was coming to see you!” Her voice cracks, and I can’t tell if she’s as equally mortified as I am or if it’s disappointment tingeing her voice.

  I’m in front of Camden so I can’t see his expression but the duvet from the hotel bed is wrapped around my shoulders, shielding my body from his mother’s view. Then he wraps a hand around my shoulder and pulls me to his side.

  “Mom, can you give us a moment?” His deep voice is completely calm, but I hear the telltale sign of annoyance as he releases a deep sigh.

  “I’ll be right out in the hallway,” she tells us, disappearing without another glance.

  “I’m sure you will be,” Camden mutters before scrubbing his face with his free hand.

  My muscles feel like stone when my mind orders them to move so I can get dressed. “How am I going to face her?” The words that have been being screamed in my head come out far quieter.

  Camden’s eyebrows soar up his forehead and his navy blue eyes stare at me for several seconds, allowing me to get even more worked-up. Shaking his head, he forces a frown to stop the smile from pulling his lips upward. He balances his hands on my shoulders and pulls me closer. “Babe, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. My mother should be because she walked into one of our goddamn hotel rooms without notice, but you shouldn’t be at all. We’re here to get married. We’re here because we’re in love. We’re here to have lots and lots and lots of sex.”

  My eyes grow rounder. “She’s going to hear you!”

  He drops his head back and yells, “LOTS OF SEX!”

  “I hate you!” I hiss.

  Camden smiles and gently shakes me. “Don’t be embarrassed. She’s going to love you. And really, that could have been a lot worse. If she’d waited another ten minutes she would have seen exactly what her son thinks about ninety percent of the day, and believe me, she would have had an eyeful of you.”

  “You’re not helping.” I pull away from him and begin getting dressed, ensuring every button is buttoned, ever zipper is zipped, and that everything is precise. Although she just caught us in a compromising position, I don’t want to serve as a memory of that all evening.

  Cleaning up my makeup makes me feel both better and worse about the situation. Looking at my reflection you’d never know that just five minutes ago I was on my knees impatiently waiting to have the last of my clothes removed so I could spend an hour with my fiancé. But I wonder if that will be a negative thing against me. Will she think I’m a fraud? A liar? If I am hiding this so well, will she think I’m hiding more?

  I close my compact and set it back in my purse. “Maybe we should move my room to another floor.”

  Camden jerks his head in short movements before leveling me with a look that tells me how ridiculous he thinks I’m being. “She should be more concerned if we weren’t wanting to tear each other’s clothes off. It’s ridiculous you’re staying in another room, you certainly aren’t staying on another floor.”

  “But it’s tradition. We aren’t even supposed to be having sex yet.”

  “Tressa,” he says before taking a deep breath, “if you really want to stay on another floor, I can make that happen but just think about it for a while. We’re in our mid-twenties and while I can respect those that decide to get married before sex, I don’t believe we will be smite, smited? Smitered?” He looks at me, trying out different made-up words.

  “You don’t think God will smite us?”

  Camden snaps, pointing a forefinger at me. “God isn’t going to smite us for sleeping together before marriage.”

  “Maybe not, but did you see your mother? She might.”

  4

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Camden

  I take another deep breath before securely placing my hand on Tressa’s waist. I can tell she wants me to move it by the way her body stiffens. She takes a side step away from me, attempting to make this appear to my mom like we’re fifteen and have a platonic relationship that doesn’t involve touching aside from going to the next dance following the Friday night football game where my hands will lightly rest above her hips and hers on my shoulders.

  It’s not only absurd, it’s ridiculous. And I want to tell her that, but I know with Tressa that I have to be calm and patient because where I’m logical and methodical, she is emotional and passionate. She cares about what everyone else feels and thinks, while I’ve come to the realization that attempting to do so will not only kill you, it will make you utterly miserable. But I want her to come to that realization on her own, in her own way, to her own degree, because while I love Tressa’s sense of humor, and intelligence, and what she makes me feel like between the sheets, it’s her heart that I fell in love with and made me stop thinking marriage was anything but a trap and ploy.

  I hold her tighter and open the door, revealing my mom with eyes wide and hair out of place from running her hands over it. I stare at her, waiting until she looks at me, before I give her a look that demands she calm down. Her looking anxious and unsettled is going to accomplish nothing but make everything more awkward. I had considered coming out here alone so I could talk to her one on one and apologize for the surprise she witnessed and to once again remind her to be accepting and kind to the woman I was bringing home, but I feared Tressa would only be more worked-up if I left her.

  “Mom, why don’t we take Tressa to see where the wedding will be held? She’s only seen the pictures online.”

  Mom’s eyes shift to Tressa, a gleam of hope making her appear friendlier than her usual serious self. “Oh yes, and the gardens. Do you enjoy gardening?”

  Tressa’s eyes grow wide with panic, and she looks from my mom to me and then back to my mom before shaking her head. “I’m pretty sure I was born with a black thumb,” she admits. “But I’d still love to see them.”

  I glare at my mother when she doesn’t even feign interest. I don’t give a shit about the gardens, and neither should Tressa, when we’re here to get married which won’t be taking place in or around the gardens.

  “Well, these gardens are ori
ginal to the property and have plants from all five continents, including some that are endangered. We hold tea services every Sunday.”

  No one cares about the types of plants growing in the garden or that they do a ridiculous tea service where women wear even more ridiculous hats and point their pinkies like they’re really in England drinking their tea, and I really don’t want to chance my mom inviting her to attend the tea this Sunday since it will be the morning after our wedding, so I interrupt before Tressa can volunteer in an attempt to impress her.

  “Mom, let’s go see the wedding hall. If we still have time, we can see the gardens but for now I’d like to show my bride where the big day is going to happen.” I extend a hand toward the elevators, beckoning my mom to lead the short way.

  “So, you’re from Connecticut,” my mom begins as we step inside the elevator, which suddenly feels like a small interrogation room wrapped in gold and fancy lights as a lie to the true intents.

  “Actually Rhode Island,” Tressa answers. “But we moved to Connecticut when I was fourteen.”

  “That must have been very hard to move as a teenager. Changing schools, friends, everything you were used to.”

  Tressa shrugs. “I really fell in love with Connecticut so it wasn’t bad.”

  “And your name,” my mom continues. “I love the name Tessa. Were you named after a family member?”

  Tressa pauses, and I can tell she’s unsure of herself and how to continue. “Well, my name’s actually Tressa,” she says before I can respond to my mother’s ignorance. I know she knows there’s an R in her name, just like I know she knew better than to burst into my hotel room. “And I wasn’t named after anyone. It’s just a name my mother loved.”

  My mom raises her eyebrows. “Well, Camden was named after his grandfather. He’s actually the fourth Camden Wallace.”