Chapter 35
Brooke
Caleb lifts me off the bed and I wrap my legs around him.
His hands grip my ass, and he shifts me against his hard length.
God, he feels so good. I need him inside me.
Bare. We established a week or so ago that between birth control and clean bills of health, we can ditch the condoms. It’s been a wonderful development.
I’m still wearing his chef coat, and if this is the reward I get for wearing it, I’ll wear it every night.
I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but I needed rest after taking my medications.
I planned to be waiting in the kitchen for him, but this is working out nicely.
I’m going to be so exhausted tomorrow, but it’s worth it. So worth it.
“What do you want, Brooke?” he whispers in my ear, then nuzzles my neck.
“I told you,” I smirk. “Fuck me, chef.” I don’t know who I’ve become since this began. With Caleb, I can say what I want, what I need. It makes me damn near feral for him.
He growls into my neck with a playful bite, laying me down slowly on the bed.
Crawling above me, he rests his elbows on either side of my head and pins me down with his hips, his cock so close to where I need him.
He’s torturing me, hands playing with my hair like he’s planning on keeping me waiting.
His eyes, dark and wanting seconds ago, are lighter.
They’re still hungry, but there’s a softness to them too.
“We’ll get to that,” he says and kisses me hard. “What do you want after…with me?”
I want it all. I don’t know how we’ll do it. Our schedules are insane. My mother’s a big problem. He has this amazing dream he wants to work on. I don’t know how to plan this out. How to make it happen. I don’t say any of that now, but I still tell him the truth.
“Everything, Caleb. I want it all.”
He rests his forehead on mine. “Everything,” he says with a laugh. “I think I can do that.”
He kisses me slowly, tenderly, then pulls away to grab a pillow and shifts it under my hips.
I tremble with anticipation at the sudden heat in his stare as he spreads my legs apart.
Warmth pools at my core and he drives into me, hard, exactly how I wanted it.
My back arches as I take in every inch of him.
“Thank god.” I’m full and aching all at once. Caleb starts thrusting steadily, hitting me so deep. My skin pebbles as delightful aches flood my body. It’s pure bliss.
Placing a hand low on my stomach, he thrusts harder, deeper. Between the pressure he applies with his hand and how deep he is at this angle, I’m losing myself. Feeling him in places I didn’t know were possible. Heat pulses through me.
“Don’t…stop…Caleb,” I say, my breath catching.
“Never,” he groans, shifting his hand lower until his thumb reaches my clit, stroking me with perfect pressure. It might kill me, but I could do this forever.
I arch further into his touch as tension coils through my bones, bringing me closer and closer.
I close my eyes, consumed by each sensation my body is feeling.
Caleb rolls himself in and out of me in a delightfully hard rhythm.
The noises out of my mouth pitch higher and higher until inaudible. God, he’s good.
“Brooke,” he says, his voice thick. “Look at me. Look at me while you come.”
Fuck. I open my eyes. Caleb’s dark brown eyes bore into mine. I shiver. I have no words, no noises, only tight, breathless pants. It’s intimate and terrifying.
He palms my cheek and runs his thumb over my lips. “Come for me, Brooke.”
I’m completely undone. Coasting through release without taking my eyes off of him. He smirks proudly and follows me there.
There’s so much I want to say as Caleb holds me, our skin slick with sweat. As my heart rate slows, Caleb looks at me, opens his mouth, then closes it. He shakes his head so slightly I almost miss it.
“Everything, Brooke. I’m going to give you everything,” he says, kissing me on the forehead.
This. Whatever comes next, however my mom reacts to my relationship with Caleb, will be worth it, because I’ll get to have this. Love.
The sky is dark. Ominous clouds stretch across the Sound and sheets of rain pelt the water outside the window.
Each weather app on my phone—I have five—has a different prediction for the day.
What they all agree on is a shit ton of rain all morning.
It’s too early to tell what the afternoon will bring.
It’s going to be an impossibly long day that’ll require unhealthy amounts of caffeinated beverages.
I go through the checklist for the rain plan in my head while I shower and get ready.
We’ll need the portable flooring to cover the grass for the ceremony, and all the clear umbrellas from the office.
We might be able to get away without siding on the tent.
If we can, it’ll be worth it. Nobody wants an enclosed tent when the humidity is this high.
It’s an unpleasant experience for everyone involved.
Dressed for the day, I sit on the bed and shoot Baxter and Maddie a text to confirm flooring and ask when I have to make the call on the tent sides. The more time I have, the better.
“Good morning, beautiful.” Caleb places a hand on my waist and kisses the back of my neck. I have my hair slicked back in a high pony. Whatever the humidity has in store for my hair today is officially out of my control.
I turn to face him. “Good morning.”
“What do I have to do to get you back in bed?” He smirks.
“Get Hannah and Preston to call off the wedding?”
“Done.” He grabs my waist and pulls me on top of him. I give him a peck on the lips. Anything more than that and I’ll miss the all-hands meeting with my team.
“I have to go, Caleb! I’m on a schedule,” I say, picking up my clipboard from the nightstand. “And you have to get up and start cheffing.” I force myself to pull away from him.
“Fine,” he grumbles, getting out of bed. “But I plan to have you in this bed one more time before the weekend is over.”
The property is calm and quiet this early, with only a few vendors already getting started. Soon enough, it will be another day of organized chaos that ends with a spectacular, albeit wet, event.
Inside the house, it’s another story. When I enter the kitchen, I’m greeted with girlie pop music blaring. The bridesmaids sip mimosas, chatting in matching toile bathrobes. Jordan’s already here, snapping candids. I spot Hannah across the room and she gives me a warm smile.
She’s sitting on a kitchen stool with large rollers in her hair and a champagne glass in her hand. At her feet is the flower girl, no more than three, coloring in her I’m A Flower Girl coloring book.
“So…how are you feeling?” I ask when I make my way over to her.
“Well…” she laughs. “Don’t they say it’s good luck to have rain on your wedding day?”
“Who’s they?” the flower girl asks with an adorable lisp.
Hannah and I both laugh. “You know, sweetie,” I say. “I’ve always wondered that. Who is they?” The flower girl goes back to her coloring, not at all amused.
I look at Hannah with soft eyes. The weather sucks, but it’s literally the one thing out of my control.
What I can control are the nerves telling me this is all going to be a disaster.
It’s not. No wedding of mine has ever been a disaster, and that includes a late-2020 wedding that started as an intimate gathering for fifty before growing to one hundred and fifty guests who didn’t believe a global pandemic was something to worry about.
I was convinced I’d end up on the news as the planner responsible for a superspreader event.
Imagine how Judy would have handled that.
“Do you think we’ll still be able to have the ceremony on the lawn?
” Hannah asks with the smallest bit of worry on her face.
“I’ve been envisioning the ceremony out there by the water.
Even in the rain. Is that crazy? I know you’ll make it amazing if we have to do it inside the tent, but I don’t know.
I’d like to try to keep it outside, if that’s okay. ”
If that’s okay? Does this bride not know how much of a dream she is?
I’ve had clients yell at me because of the weather.
Why didn’t you tell us it was going to rain?
I did. Why didn’t you know the time of the thunderstorm?
I’m not a meteorologist. What do you mean forest fires in Canada are making it smell like smoke, can’t you do something about it?
I think it’s because of wind patterns, and no, I can’t.
Why didn’t you bring us coats if it was going to be this cold?
Uh, I don’t have extra coats laying around.
“Hannah, I’m going to do everything in my power to keep your ceremony outside on the lawn. It’s the perfect spot and it’d be a shame for something like a little rain to stop us.” I wave my hand in the direction of the window, dismissing the downpour happening outside. “We’re on it.”
We’re on it, yes, but it’s a muddy, sludgy mess. The rain hasn’t let up, and even though I promised Hannah her ceremony on the lawn, I’m worried we made the wrong call. I mentally prepare for comments from the guests. And my mother. But if this is what the bride wants, it’s my job to get it done.
Maddie’s by my side as I lead our all-hands meeting. My team includes two assistant leads, Maddie and Krista, and six assistants. Around us, the Foley’s team handles place settings while the florist places the arrangements.
We review the timeline for the day, last-minute changes, and final prep.
It’s a long list that’d be manageable in any other circumstance, but the weather isn’t on our side.
I hand out assignments, including a very necessary fountain Diet Coke run.
As we finish up, Judy and the woman she had in the office a few weeks ago make their way under the tent.
I saw that woman last night, too. They stand talking a few yards from us, Mom pointing to various people on the team.