Chapter Twenty-Three Fun Times Out
Haven
W e weave our way through the throng of dancing bodies, the air thick with laughter and the scent of spilled drinks. As we approach, Garrett looks up, surprise flickering across his face.
"Haven? Marie? What are you two doing here?" he asks, sitting up straighter.
I slide into the seat next to him. "Celebrating, obviously! It's my bachelorette party. What's your excuse for brooding alone at a club?"
He chuckles softly. "Thought I’d try getting out and mingling, but guess I’m not really feeling it after all."
"Now that we’re here, you can't just sit here all by yourself," I declare, hooking my arm through his. "Join us!"
He hesitates, glancing between me and Marie. "I don't want to crash your party."
"Nonsense," Marie interjects, plopping down into the seat on his other side. "The more, the merrier."
Garrett offers a reluctant smile. "Alright, if you insist."
"We do," I say firmly. "Besides, it's been ages since we all hung out."
As we settle in, I notice the tension easing from his shoulders. He’s been distant since he got home, and I get why. He’s still not thrilled that Christian and I got engaged while he was away, but he’s accepting the situation. Since the dinner I hosted to celebrate him coming home, I haven’t really seen much of him, which sucks. We usually hang out all the time when he’s home, but even though he’s not on the rig, he’s still got a busy work schedule in the office.
As we chat and drink, things start to finally feel normal.
After a while, a new song blares through the speakers—a catchy, upbeat tune that's impossible to resist.
"Oh, I love this one!" Marie exclaims, sliding off her chair. She looks at Garrett with a challenging grin. "Care to dance?"
He holds up his hands defensively. "Oh, I don't know about that. I'm not much of a dancer."
"Come on, Garrett.” I say, nudging him teasingly. “Live a little! It's my bachelorette party—you have to dance at least once."
He glances at me, then back at Marie, who’s waiting expectantly with an outstretched hand.
Finally, he sighs in mock defeat. "No promises I'll be any good."
"Don't worry,” Marie laughs. “I'll lead."
They make their way to the dance floor, and I watch them blend into the crowd. At first, Garrett looks a bit stiff, his movements awkward as he tries to find the rhythm. But Marie is patient, laughing and encouraging him, her hands guiding his.
I sip my drink, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips. It's good to see him unwind. Ever since he got back from the oil fields, he's been more reserved than usual.
As the song progresses, I notice a change. Garrett starts to loosen up, his movements becoming more fluid. He spins Marie unexpectedly, and she throws her head back in delighted laughter. They move well together, their chemistry palpable even from a distance.
When the song ends, another one seamlessly begins—a slower track with a sultry beat. Instead of returning to the table, they stay on the floor. Garrett leans in to say something to Marie, and she smiles coyly in response.
Well, well, well.
I decide to give them some space and head back to the bar for a refill. The bartender raises an eyebrow as he pours me another.
"Your friends seem to be hitting it off."
I glance back at the dance floor where Garrett and Marie are engrossed in each other.
"Looks like it," I reply, unable to hide my grin.
"Always nice to see people connecting," he says knowingly.
I return to our table, and after a few more songs, they finally make their way back, both flushed and slightly breathless.
"Enjoying yourselves?" I ask innocently.
Marie flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Your brother's got some moves after all."
He chuckles, a bit sheepish. "I had a good dance partner."
"Glad to hear it," I reply, winking at them. "Maybe we should make this a regular occurrence."
Marie glances at him with a knowing look in her eyes. "I wouldn't be opposed."
He meets her gaze, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, maybe."
We spend the next hour chatting and laughing, the conversation easy and full of lighthearted teasing. I can't remember the last time I saw Garrett so relaxed, and it honestly warms my heart.
At last, we decide to call it a night. As Marie and I step out into the slightly chilled night air, laughing and stumbling slightly in our high heels with Garrett following close behind us, headlights sweep across the parking lot, and I recognize Christian’s car. I feel a rush of warmth—not just from the few drinks I’ve had, but also from the sight of him here, ready to take me home.
“Right on time!” Marie declares.
I frown at her. “Did you call him?”
Grinning, she nods. “Sure did. Wanted to make sure you got home okay and why not have the hottie fiance come fetch you?”
He steps out of the car, his expression a mix of amusement and concern as he takes in our slightly disheveled state.
"Looks like you two had fun," he comments, his eyes crinkling with a smile as he opens the passenger door for me. His eyes lock with Garrett a cautious gaze lingering in his eyes. “You got caught up in this too?”
Garrett nods before shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, it’s pretty impossible to say no to them when they join forces.”
“I have no doubt about that.” Christian chuckles.
Marie winks at him, her voice lilting playfully. "She's all yours, Christian. Take good care of our bachelorette."
“Are you walking home?”
She nods. “My house is like a block away. I’m good.”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t worry,” Garrett replies, moving to Marie’s side. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”
Oh really now?
“Well… alright then.” I smile with a sigh of relief. “Don’t have too much fun.”
Marie gives my brother a playful little grin and slips her arm through his.
“You two kids have fun,” she says, waving at me as she turns and leads Garrett away down the sidewalk. I watch them for several moments before Christian helps me into the car. I can’t help but giggle as I sink into the seat, the leather cool against my skin.
"Thank you for picking me up," I say to him as soon as he’s in the car.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he replies, with amusement in his voice as I lean over a bit, looping my arm around his.
"I do though… you didn’t have to come get me… but I did miss you," I murmur, the alcohol making me bolder, more affectionate.
"I can tell.” He chuckles, taking my hand into his. “Did you have a good time?"
"The best," I assure him, squeezing his hand. "But I’m glad you’re here now. I’ve been thinking about you all evening."
As we pull away from the curb, I scoot closer to him, my head resting on his shoulder. The drive home is quiet, the streets of Blue Ridge passing by in a blur of streetlights and shadows. I feel the buzz of the night still coursing through me, the laughter, the dancing, the freedom of it all, and now, the warmth of Christian beside me.
When we reach the house, Christian parks the car and comes around to open my door. I take his hand, using his strength to steady myself as I stand. Once we're at the front door, I turn to face him, the porch light casting a soft glow around us.
"Thank you for tonight," I say, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him. It’s meant to be a quick peck, but the warmth of his lips, the solid feel of him under my hands, it pulls me in, and I deepen the kiss, my body pressing closer to his.
Christian responds with equal intensity, his hands finding my waist, pulling me tightly against him. When we finally break apart, there’s a heated glow in his eyes that matches how I feel.
"Let’s get you inside," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
Once inside, my hands roam over his chest as he shuts the door behind us, the click of the lock sounding like a starting gun.
"I don’t want the night to end yet," I whisper against his neck, feeling his pulse quicken under my lips.
"Neither do I," he replies, his hands sliding down to lift me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, the world narrowing down to just the two of us, here in the dark, quiet house.
Christian carries me upstairs with careful, determined steps. Each movement is charged with anticipation, building the heat between us until it’s the only thing I can think about. We reach our bedroom, and Christian places me down on the bed and palms my sex, pushing aside my panties to slide two fingers in and out of me slowly. I draw in a deep, shaking breath as pleasure rushes through me, heating up my skin and giving me goosebumps.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he praises, looking down at me. He pumps his fingers in and out of me faster, watching my face, my body. I bite my lip, looking up at him, and he groans as I make eye contact.
“You are,” I say, nearly delirious, and he chuckles.
“Am I?” He tugs off his t-shirt with one hand, throwing it on the floor then works his pants down his legs. He’s naked now, and his erection is hard, the tip already dripping.
“Christian, please,” I whimper.
“Please what, baby? Use your words,” he orders, grasping my chin in his hand and forcing me to look at him.
“Please fuck me,” I say quietly, feeling shy, but he just grins.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he mutters, removing his fingers and looping my knees over his biceps. He guides himself into me and fucks me hard and fast and I’m mewling.
I drag my nails down his back and I can’t breathe with all the pleasure heating me up from the inside out. Christian growls low in his throat when I orgasm, pulsing around him.
After a few more hard thrusts, he’s coming too and he leans down to kiss my throat and shoulder.
“I think my shoulders are bleeding,” he says, chuckling, and I try to catch my breath.
“Fuck,” I curse. “I’m sorry, Christian?—”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he murmurs. “It just means I’ll remember you every time I shower. Remember this.”
Suddenly, words come up my throat, needing to get out.
I want you all the time. I think I’m in love with you. How do you feel about me?
The thought startles me and I press my mouth shut so that the words don’t accidentally slip out. I must be drunker than I thought. Love? I’m not in love with Christian, am I?
The question zooms back and forth in my mind as he carefully pulls out of me and then helps me to my feet. Leading me to the bathroom, he undresses me, washes my face, and brushes out my hair. These are not things people typically do who aren’t in love, right?
When I’m cleaned up and dressed in an oversized t-shirt, he picks me up and carries me back to bed. I curl into him, resting my head on his chest and I can hear his heart beating. It’s strong and steady, and I can’t help but wonder if it could possibly be beating for me.