Chapter 26
Lauralee
Cloud nine exists on the steps of the courthouse in New York City.
It must be because I’m floating on air with him.
“My handsome husband.” Romantic. Charming.
Sweep-me-off-my-feet husband. He lifts me from my feet, twirling me around for everyone to see.
I throw my arms wide, soaking this in, and kiss him.
Life is a dream with Baylor.
I’m set down, but he still holds me close and whispers against the corner of my mouth, “My gorgeous bride, I’m so in love with you.” Dipping me in the middle of the steps, he kisses me again.
With my hair hanging down and my weight secured in his arms, I reply, “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”
“That’s how you make me feel.”
I’m not sure how to handle all this romance. Every word he says is more swoony than the last. “How will I ever return to our normal every day when you’re spoiling me like this. I’m going to be rotten to the core after all this sweetness. ”
He chuckles as a section of his hair falls over his forehead.
I like his hair ruffled. I like a little stubble coating his jaw and when his shirts have a few wrinkles.
It’s life taking hold. But I won’t complain about how he looks today.
My jaw dropped wide open when the car came around the corner and I saw him standing there, waiting for me.
Looking that good should be a crime, and I’m just the gal to take him into custody.
But do I deserve all this like it’s a real wedding?
I imagined something low-key. We’d just go to the courthouse and get this taken care of.
Instead, I have a cushion-cut diamond the size of a small blueberry on my finger and a band wrapped in platinum with diamonds all the way around.
I think my car cost less. Actually, I know it did.
I’ve never seen something this expensive, much less worn it on my finger.
I’m just a country girl who grew up with a single mom barely making ends meet. Baylor has handed me the keys to his kingdom, making me feel like a princess.
When I’m righted, I spot a photographer taking our picture like we’re celebrities. “Someone’s taking photos of us.”
He looks back over his shoulder and then at me again.
“It’s the photographer I hired to capture our special day.
” My mouth opens and closes again, my thoughts jumbling from one surprise to the next.
When I glance at the photographer again, he waves at me.
I wave back before returning my gaze to Baylor, who says, “You only get married once.”
The photographer is forgotten as my mind stumbles through the “only get married once” response.
Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, but I find myself holding on to it like a life preserver.
Otherwise, I’ll start to question what we’re doing.
And that’s the last thing I want to do when I’ve not felt this happy in forever.
I want to live out this fantasy to the fullest before reality sinks in again. Standing next to him, I lean my head on his shoulder as we face the photographer. Our hands are clasped with the bouquet hanging down at my side in the other. “You really did think of everything.”
Letting new love and the joy of the day win, we pose all over—walking down the sidewalk, me laying my head on his lap when we sit on a park bench and vice versa, and strolling through the nearest park with blooming flowers.
I was so embarrassed at first, but these are fun for us, so I release my inhibitions and enjoy the process.
I even laugh so hard while eating a hot dog that I almost choke. And then that makes me laugh even harder.
Does cloud ten exist? Nine will never capture this feeling adequately.
When we return to his apartment, he swoops me into his arms and even carries me over the threshold. “I don’t think you’ve missed a detail,” I say, protected and safe in his arms.
He kicks the door closed and kisses my cheek as soon as my feet land on the ground.
Embracing him, I’m not ready to be apart and lean toward leading him into the bedroom to end the day wrapped up in each other.
“Did you have a good day?” His voice doesn’t hold the familiar confidence he carries in life.
It’s not boisterous like it is when he’s hanging out with Tagger.
It’s not even laid-back like he sounds with his family.
There’s a shyness to it, an uncertainty in his tone.
He’s quieter and more reserved. I can see both the boy I knew growing up and the man he is now, needing me to reassure him.
I slide my hands over his shoulders and around his neck.
My heels are high but still not enough to where I can reach his lips without a lift.
I kiss him and then again. Soft and slow.
Gentle and caring, hoping I can give him what he’s coveting most. Love. “It’s been the best day of my life.”
His arms are so strong when he holds me to him. There’s no escaping that I’m the life preserver he needs. “Mine, too.”
Taking his hand, I lead him into the living room and dip the bouquet back into the vase.
“What do we do now?” I ask, open to the possibilities ahead to decide on my own.
“We can make love.” He smirks in response.
“Or eat something?” That smirk gets smirkier as expected.
“Watch a movie and cuddle together on the couch, or something super New Yorky and sneak up to the rooftop to stare at the stars.”
He rubs his chin as if this is a life-and-death decision. I’m thinking we’ll be doing all of them at some point in the night, so why decide? “Do you have a frontrunner?”
“All of it sounds magical if it involves you.”
“Listen to my wife laying on the charm.”
A girlhood dream comes back to me, one I had pushed down so far that I’d forgotten until now. “I don’t think there’s much I can contribute to make this wedding day any more perfect than it already is, but if I had one more wish, it would be to have a first dance with my husband.”
With his eyes locked on mine, he shakes off his jacket and loosens his tie.
He means business of the sex appeal kind.
I don’t typically have a suit fetish, but I’m finding it hard to hide how attracted I am to this man.
A heaving chest and a stare that tells him to take me straight to the bedroom might be a dead giveaway.
He challenges my telltale signs with one of his own—lowering his chin, his bright blues are shadowed by seduction.
Under that gaze, I’d let him do anything to me.
And if he rolls up those sleeves, I’m done for. Died and gone to heaven.
He leaves me practically panting for more, the jerk, and turns to pick up a remote from a wooden bowl on the coffee table.
Music filters through the space from invisible speakers in just a few clicks.
The music sets a mood for romance, making me wonder if he always has this playlist queued or if he set this up for us as well.
He remembered everything else, so I feel he also prepared for this aspect.
Taking me into his arms, he asks, “May I have this dance, Mrs. Greene?”
I’m glad he’s holding on to my waist, or I’d be mush at his feet. Greene is not a name I ever thought I’d be despite feeling so a part of their family. But to hear it from his lips with the title hooked on the front, I get overwhelmed with emotion.
I lean against him, listening to his heartbeat and hoping he didn’t see me lose it over the enormity of being his, a Greene by all intents and purposes, and married to him. It’s so much all at once to take in.
Baylor rubs my back and whispers into my hair, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” I say, keeping my cheek against his chest. “It’s been an amazing day, perfect in every way possible.
Thank you.” I know that probably won’t placate him.
He’s starting to know me too well for that, but how do I protect myself?
I love him—solid, real, and in all senses—but I don’t want my heart to get broken.
Which is where this is destined to lead.
We didn’t get married for love, but we’ve landed in the middle of it. “This feels real, Baylor.”
I’m starting to hate how much I love the feel of his hand on my shoulder and the way his touch shoots through my entire body. I have no control when it comes to him. He holds all the cards and the winning hand when it comes to me. Closing my eyes, I try to pacify my concerns.
He leans in and kisses the curve of my neck, whispering against my skin, “It’s whatever we want it to be. ”
I tilt my neck, opening for him. “I don’t want this to end, but that’s not why we agreed to get married.”
His mouth stills, and then he looks back at me. “Nothing must be defined tonight. We can have one night.”
He’s not wrong. One night of living the fantasy won’t do any harm. It’s tonight, and then we’re back to our normal lives. Heart intact. “One night.”
Remember that, Lauralee , I silently warn myself.
And then I remember we have the Hamptons tomorrow. Okay, so it’s a few nights, but I deserve this. I deserve this man and the way he looks at me like he’s starving and I’m the main course.
We’ve been pure chemistry and sexual attraction since the night of the storm. It’s so easy to fall back on the familiarity of our physical connection, to distract from other matters and beating organs that demand to be heard when my heart is on the line. I kiss him.
He lifts me off my feet with our mouths still attached.
Maybe the physical is where he finds comfort as well because he starts down the hall to his bedroom.
When he sets me down, we stand face-to-face as husband and wife.
The sounds of the city become a distant memory.
All I hear is our breathing as time slows for us to catch up.
I almost hate to take this dress off. It’s so pretty and makes me feel even more so, but I turn around, dropping my head, and ask, “Will you unzip me?”
His hand drags down my spine until he reaches the fabric. I close my eyes when his lips press to my back, followed by the sound of the zipper reaching my ears. My ribs fully expand again, and I take a deep breath as the fabric falls open.
He says, “Bend over the bed, baby.”
I thought we’d make love, looking i nto each other’s eyes, so I’m disappointed by the request. Moving to the mattress, I lean down and rest the weight of my body on my forearms.
Baylor stands behind me, dipping to remove one shoe and then the other before sliding his hands under the skirt of my dress and up the side of my thighs.
He asks, “What did you wear for me on our wedding night?” His tone has an edge to it, more jagged with each word spoken.
He flips my skirt over my back, and the cool air breezes over my exposed ass. “Beautiful.”
The thong doesn’t have much fabric to it, but I knew he’d approve when he saw it. Just a strip of white lace that he slides his finger under, angling them through my lower lips. He doesn’t need to tease or taunt. I’m already wet for him.
Keeping my eyes closed, I rest my head on the bed.
The anticipation twists in my belly as the feel of hands on me and the sound of him moving closer already has me so worked up that I could come.
He bites my ass, not enough to hurt or break skin but to let me know he’s here.
“Do you know how incredible you look like this, Lauralee?” He leans over my back and trails kisses between my shoulder blades and up, before reaching the shell of my ear and licking the curve of it.
His fingers dip into my entrance. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby. But first, I’m going to make you come.”
“God yes,” I beg on an exhaled breath.
He toys with my clit and slips back to my entrance. “How does that feel?”
“I want . . . Ah—” He buries his digits deep inside me, causing my body to react by moving against him.
“What do you want? Tell me.”
“I want to come, and then I want you to come inside me.”
His breath cover s my ear, and when I peek my eyes open, a smile crosses his face. “I want that, too.” He picks up his pace, fucking me with his fingers and teasing my clit until my body submits, crashing down onto the bed and falling apart for him.
I try to catch my breath as he slides my panties down my legs and starts to undress. When he’s naked, I push myself up, standing before him, and let my dress slide down my arms and puddle on the floor.
My breath is still uneven, but I know one thing. This time, I want to see him. I move to the side of the bed and then climb to the middle to position myself and fully embrace whatever he wants to give.
The bed dips but stops before climbing on, looking me over once and then again. His swallow is harsh, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if I’ve left him breathless. When he finally covers me, I butterfly my legs, welcoming him into my fold.
Pushing into me, he doesn’t stop until he’s seated deeply within.
Our eyes stare into each other’s, our breathing mingling, and our body bonded.
But it’s the emotional connection I have with him that intensifies.
Not because we’ve had sex but because I love him, and he loves me. That changes everything.
I’ll greet the heartbreak with open arms if I can just hold on to this feeling a little while longer. A deal with the devil is struck, and he leans down to kiss me. A groan of pleasure rumbles from his chest to exchange through our breath as he moves, slow at first but then faster and harder.
I hold him, turning my head to rest above his shoulder, which taps my chin every time he pushes in again.
We become a blur of bodies and breath, moans, and whispered adorations from his lips to my ear.
It’s all so much all at once—the heart, the mind, the beats, the breaths, and coil springing free when h e hits just the right spot again and again.
My mind goes blank, my body moving on instinct. And when I call out his name as I tip over the edge into my own release, he follows. Gritting his teeth, he pumps into me erratically, my name a swear on his lips. “Lauralee. Fuck .”
We still as much as our breathing allows. My mind is calm, and my body is at peace. I wrap my arms around him as much as I can and lift my head to place a kiss on his neck. “Guess what?” I whisper.
He lifts like it’s a struggle, but I can see the start of the smile that wants to reveal itself. “What?”
I can’t hide mine, though. “We tied the knot.”
With a nod, he kisses me. “It’s official.” He rolls from on top of me to the side, dropping his arm wide in invitation. I slide and snuggle against him. “You’re all mine, Shortcake.”
I’ve always been fiercely independent. I had to be from a young age. But those four words make me feel like I’m a part of the family. I’m his. And he’s all mine.