Chapter 13 #3
Then he rolls us to our sides, his fingers barely missing a beat between my legs. He shifts so he’s snugged up spoon-style behind me, his cock pressing against my tailbone.
We’re hidden by the blanket and the cover of darkness, so I reach up and wriggle out of my panties. My skirt stays on, but Ian hikes it up around my waist so I’m bared to him.
There’s the soft snick of a zipper behind me, and he’s nudging my opening. I shift one leg, a silent plea for him to take me. To plunge in hard and fast.
His cheek rests against mine, arms enveloping me in a nest of heat. “I love this,” he murmurs as he presses against my slick opening “Feeling you with nothing between us.”
He slides inside, and I cry out softly. Crickets fall silent in the pasture, then start up again three seconds later like nothing happened.
But everything’s happening under this blanket. Ian’s hips set a rhythm that has my whole body moving with him. With my thighs pressed together, I feel every hard inch of him inside me.
“Show me,” he whispers as his palm skims my breasts on the way down. The pad of his thumb glides over my clit, making me whimper. “Show me exactly how you like it, Sarah. How to make you come like this.”
I groan as he drives into me from behind, working his magic both inside and out. “I think you’ve pretty much nailed it.”
“I want to feel how you touch yourself,” he says. “I want to know exactly what gets you there.”
His thumb’s delicious circles are driving me insane in the best possible way, a technique that’s damn near perfect. I couldn’t do it better myself, but I love that he’s eager to know my body. That he recognizes there’s an art to getting a woman off like this.
“Just like that,” I murmur, sliding my hand down and applying the tiniest bit of pressure to his fingers. “Yes.”
He responds with just the touch I’m craving, not too firm, not too soft, exactly right. He pushes into me again from behind as his fingers move over my clit.
“You feel so fucking good,” he growls in my ear.
I groan as he tilts his hips to hit something amazing. His fingers glide over my sensitive nub, mimicking the rhythm I’ve set for us. “Oh! Just like that.”
“Do it, Sarah,” he murmurs. “Keep grinding on me just like that. Show me how you like it.”
I press against him, conscious of every point where our bodies are touching. His stubbled cheek is rough against mine, leaving every nerve raw and tingly.
My hand still covers his, and I move his fingers faster, kicking up the intensity. He kisses the edge of my jaw and pumps into me with slick, even strokes.
The smell of crushed grass fills my senses, and I clutch a handful of it to keep myself from toppling over.
To brace against his delicious thrusts. Somewhere in the distance a coyote howls, and I wonder how many night creatures are getting an eyeful right now.
The air feels crisp and cool on my face, but blissfully warm here in our cocoon.
I lift my gaze to the sky and feel myself swirling into the funnel of stars above us.
When his body tenses, I know he’s close. I’ve learned how to read him, just like I’ve learned how to get us both there at the same time. I move his fingers faster, gasping as he seizes up.
“Ian,” I gasp.
He curses and thrusts in hard, like those two syllables were a blessing. A cue for us both to go hurtling over the edge together.
His shudder ripples through me, and I let go of his hand to clutch at the grass.
He keeps stroking, moving faster as I cry out at the crest of the first wave.
My fingers tear a clump of grass from the earth as I plummet over the edge.
The smell of fresh dirt and torn grass fills my senses as Ian fills the rest of me, pumping me so full I’m dizzy with it.
When we’re both breathless and spent, he doesn’t pull out. Not right away. He’s still throbbing inside me, and I lie there savoring the sensation of being this close to another human. To Ian, not just anyone. Ian.
He presses a kiss into the hollow beneath my ear. “Was that pretty close to an orgasm?”
I laugh and snuggle back against him. “Pretty close,” I murmur. “Pretty close to perfection.”
And that’s when I know something else.
I’m in love with Ian Nolan.
Head over heels, dizzyingly, stupidly, blindly in love with my best friend.
Dammit.
I swear I blink once and the wedding day arrives.
Not mine, of course.
Cassie and Simon’s. Less than a week goes by after that starry night in Ian’s mom’s field, and suddenly I’m sitting at a fancy dressing table wearing champagne-colored silk and gripping the most beautiful bouquet I’ve ever held in my nervously sweating palms.
This is the day. The deadline Ian and I agreed on to be certain about moving forward with this marriage. I’m certain, but not about the marriage of convenience.
I’m more positive than ever I’m in love with Ian. I haven’t told him, and I’m not sure I should.
“You look amazing.”
I turn toward the dressing table where Cassie’s sisters are putting the finishing touches on her hair and makeup.
Lisa adjusts Cassie’s veil and leans down so their faces are framed together in the mirror.
“You’re seriously the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen,” Lisa says as a photographer clicks off the heartwarming shot of the two sisters.
“Hey!” Happily married Missy gives Lisa a stern look, but I can tell she’s not really mad. She’s smiling like a proud mother hen and wearing a dress that’s nearly identical to mine, except for the ruched bodice and sweetheart neckline.
“I can’t argue, actually,” Missy adds as she straightens the pearl choker at her sister’s throat. “You do look perfect, Cassie.”
Cassie smiles and pokes at her left eye. “Thanks. I feel like I have hunks of grass glued to my eyelids. Are these things really necessary?”
“You’ll thank us later,” Missy assures her. “False eyelashes will make your eyes pop in photos.”
Cassie frowns at herself in the mirror. “I’m not sure I like the sound of eyeball popping.”
Lisa straightens and glances over at me. I grip the eyeliner pencil I’m holding and concentrate very hard on not feeling wistful. On not thinking about how much Simon loves Cassie and Cassie loves Simon and how that’s exactly the way it’s supposed to be.
Regardless of what happens between Ian and me, we’re going to be married in the coming months. That’s the end goal, right? Long-term companionship, family, the white picket fence. This is what I’ve wanted since I was a little girl.
“Let me help you with that.” Lisa marches over and snags the eyeliner from my hand before settling daintily on the bench beside me.
Her dress is champagne silk, too, but strapless to show off her flawless shoulders.
“I can’t believe we’ll all be married soon,” she says as she applies the liner with expert hands. “It’s a big year for all of us.”
“That’s for sure.”
I swallow hard and wonder why I’m so nervous. I don’t think it’s bridesmaid jitters. It’s the fact that I’m about to walk down the aisle for a wedding I’ve anticipated for months. Out there in the audience is Ian, the man I’m pledged to marry, the man I’m pretty sure I’m in love with.
I never would have expected this back when Cassie sent her save-the-date cards.
“There,” Lisa says, tracing a thin line at the edge of my right eyelid. “All set.”
Over at her dressing table, Cassie stands up and smooths down the front of her dress. “Enough primping,” she says. “If we keep fussing with our faces, they’re going to fall off.”
She picks up her bouquet and holds it up for us to admire. “These are all native flowers and shrubs,” she says. “Bracken, maidenhair, several species of fern, some salmonberries and Oregon grape. All things that grow well in soils that are native to Oregon.”
Missy snorts. “Leave it to the soil scientist to have a geek-tastic bouquet.”
“But it’s amazing.” I stand and walk to her side to give her a careful hug designed to avoid wrinkling our dresses. “The whole wedding is amazing. The way you’ve made it yours.”
“To hell with the wedding.” Cassie grins. “The flowers, the dresses—it’s all meaningless. I’m getting to marry the best guy in the world, so that’s all I care about.”
God. That’s how I feel, too. Ian’s the best guy I know, and I’m going to marry him. I’m marrying the man I love, and isn’t that the definition of happily ever after?
I have to tell him.
I swallow down the lump in my throat, hoping Cassie hasn’t noticed any shift in my expression. This is her day, not mine, and I’m grateful the three sisters have gone back to fussing with Cassie’s veil.
“Almost ready, ladies?” The girls’ mother pops her head into the dressing room, then steps through the door wearing a shimmery rose-gold mother-of-the-bride dress.
She has Cassie’s nose and forehead, but Missy and Lisa’s impeccable styling, and she’s beaming with pride as she surveys her three daughters.
Her eyes fill with tears when her gaze lands on Cassie. “Aren’t you a beautiful bride.”
Cassie rolls her eyes, but I can see they’re shimmering, too. “Mom. You saw me five minutes ago.”
“And I’m allowed to cry every time,” she says. “It’s not every day one of my daughters gets married.”
Susan Michaels pulls all three girls into a group hug. It’s a beautiful moment, and I’m glad the photographer is there to capture it. Spotting me, Susan waves over Lisa’s shoulder. “You, too, Sarah,” she says. “You’re part of this love-fest.”
I set my bouquet on the dressing table and join the huddle, so filled with love that I feel like I might explode. What is it about weddings that brings out everyone’s sentimental side?
Susan is first to draw back, and she plucks a hankie from her little clutch and dabs at her eyes. “I’m proud of all of you girls for finding the love of your life,” she says. “I can only hope all four of you are even half as happy as Glen and I have been these past forty years.”
My heart lodges in my throat, and I swallow hard to force it back down. All four of you. She means me, too, and for a moment I entertain the idea of having the same kind of marriage they all do. The kind I always assumed I’d have.
As I take several shaky breaths to compose myself, Mrs. Michaels makes her way to the door. “If you’re ready, I’ll signal the musicians,” she says.
Lisa fusses with Cassie’s veil one more time. “Are Simon and Junie already in place?”
“They’re just waiting for the word from us.”
I love how family has been incorporated into every aspect of this wedding. Simon and Cassie both wanted Junie by their side, but ultimately let her choose between being Cassie’s maid of honor or Simon’s best woman.
“Best is better than honor,” Junie pointed out. “Everyone knows that.”
So Junie is with Simon, and Cassie has the three of us for support. “I’m glad he has her by his side,” Cassie says, reading my thoughts. “It’s been just the two of them for so long. They’ve always had each other.”
My heart clutches a little at that as I realize that no matter what kind of wedding Ian and I have, we’ll feel Shane’s absence. My father’s, too, though I never really knew him. When it comes time to walk myself down the aisle, I’ll be ready for it. I pick up my bouquet and take another breath.
“All set, Sarah?” Lisa moves toward the doorway, then pauses and cocks her head. “You okay?” she mouths.
I nod and join the sisters. “I’m so thrilled for you, Cassie,” I tell her. “You look so happy.”
“So do you.”
It’s true, and I know why. It’s Ian, and the fact that I’m so in love with him I could explode. I hug my friend, then step back as her father appears in the doorway, ready to walk her down the aisle.
“Showtime, ladies,” Lisa says.
Missy strides out first, then Lisa, then me. We march slowly out the doors of Suttle Lake Lodge, squinting as the glare of sun on the lake hits us full in the face. Notes of Pachelbel’s Canon bounce off the water as we drift across the deck and out onto the grassy lawn.
At the last second, I glance back at Cassie. Her face radiates so much love and joy that my breath catches in my throat.
I want that.
I turn and make my way down the aisle.
Simon is waiting under a handmade arch with Junie resplendent in champagne silk beside him.
She’s wearing their late mother’s earrings and a smile that’s filled with love for her brother and new sister-in-law.
Dax stands next to her, smiling at Lisa like she invented beer and blowjobs.
Two guys Simon works with round out the rest of his group, and they’re all watching us make our way down the aisle.
As I take my place on the opposite side of the arch, I watch Simon’s face as Cassie appears.
There it is—pure, unaltered love. There’s no other way to describe it, and my breath catches again with a soft little hiccup. Mesmerized, I watch his face as she glides toward him.
You’re beautiful, he mouths with tears of joy glittering behind his tortoiseshell glasses.
Cassie smiles back and flashes him a thumbs-up. She’s wearing the same expression he is. Love—her face glows with it, her whole body radiates with rays like sun glinting off water. My throat tightens, and I take a few deeper breaths to keep myself from bawling.
Ian.
Where’s Ian?
Filled with the need to share this moment with him, I scan the crowd. I spot him in the third row, and his face lights up as he waves.
I love him.
I love him so damn much.
I have to tell him.
“Dearly beloved,” the officiant begins. “Friends, loved ones, total strangers wandering in from a day of kayaking.”
The audience laughs, and I force my attention to the ceremony. I don’t want to miss a moment of this. “We are gathered here today to witness the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”
The officiant continues on, and I steal another glance at Ian. His gaze is fixed on me, and I could swear there’s some sort of force field connecting us. How else could I explain what I’m feeling right now? Like we’re connected to each other in a way I’ve never experienced before.
“…romance is a wonderful thing,” the minister continues. “But love—true love—and the desire to love someone for the rest of your life—that’s extraordinary. And that is what we’re celebrating here today.”
I want extraordinary.
And as Ian and I lock gazes across the heads of the crowd, I’m positive he does, too.