Chapter 28
Summer
Your wedding day is supposed to be memorable, and though I made sure to keep my expectations low, my new husband surpassed them all.
Instead of waiting two days, we decided to do it the day after the wedding, so that Mick and Taryn could be there.
And we’re a pretty big group arriving at the little all-in-one chapel Tate found online.
While we take care of the legalities, the others go off to—I didn’t realize this until after—upgrade the package we bought. To include flowers and pictures and a few other little surprises that make the day seem so much more special.
Afterward, they take us to lunch at one of the most gorgeous restaurants I’ve ever been to, with a view of the city. It’s sweet and fun and I’m a little awed by the thoughtfulness of Tate’s friends.
My friends.
I have to remind myself of that.
They’re my friends now too.
Taryn and Ryleigh have been so thoughtful about making me feel included in everything.
Kirsten flew in for the weekend so she could attend the wedding with Sam, and she has to head to the airport right after we eat, but she takes the time to input her number into my phone, telling me to keep in touch and let her know if I need anything while the guys are in Europe.
Taryn’s mother and son, Tracy and Toby, came with us and she gives me her number as well, welcoming me to the family.
These strangers have been more welcoming than my biological family, and I know it’s because of Tate.
I don’t know whether he specifically asked them to go out of their way to welcome me or if that’s simply who they are and how they operate, but either way it’s lovely.
And I’m actually a little sad when we have to say goodbye.
Kirsten is going back to college.
Taryn and Mick on their honeymoon.
Tracy and Toby back to L.A.—he has school tomorrow.
Angus, Ryleigh, and the rest of the band are heading home to Minneapolis to decompress for a week or so until they have to come back to Vegas to meet up with Nobody’s Fool and rehearse for the tour.
But the day isn’t over for me.
Because we’re back in our hotel room and my new husband has just handed me an envelope.
“What is it?” I ask in confusion.
“Your wedding present.”
“I didn’t get you anything!” I protest, horrified that it never occurred to me.
“It’s okay. You’ll understand why this is different when you open it.”
I feel terrible but push down the wave of guilt as I open the envelope.
Inside is an itinerary.
For a trip?
I glance at the information and then look up at him. “I don’t…understand.”
“You’re booked on a first class flight to meet me in London in mid-October,” he says patiently, a smile tugging at his lips.
“But…” I start to protest but can’t think of a valid reason not to go.
“Already talked to Dolly. She and Sylvie will take turns visiting your mom and Dolly’s even going to take over baking your peanut butter pies for the restaurant, so you don’t lose them as a client.”
“Oh, my gosh. Tate!” I drop the envelope and throw myself in his arms. “Thank you. This is amazing.”
“I wanted today to be special,” he whispers against my hair, arms wrapped around me tightly.
“Every day with you is special,” I say. And I mean it.
He’s been everything I could have wanted and more, despite his initial reaction when I told him I was pregnant.
And now this.
“I’m crazy about you, Summer,” he whispers as I lift my lips to his.
The moment we touch I’m lost in him. It never gets old, the physical intimacy between us.
I want to say that there has to be more to a relationship than sex, and there does, but with us it’s a conduit.
The physical somehow helps us connect in other ways—ways that are hard to explain.
I just know that when we’re together like this I feel things I didn’t expect to feel so soon in the relationship.
“I want to undress you,” he whispers, pulling away slightly.
“Why?” I ask curiously.
“Because you’ve been so self-conscious about your body lately, and I want to explore every inch—and show you how beautiful I think you are.”
I sigh.
What else can I do? He’s romantic and sexy and…so fucking thoughtful. It’s no wonder I’m falling hard for my new husband.
So I just stand there as he turns me around and unzips my dress. It falls forward a bit but instead of taking it off, he starts kissing the area between my shoulder blades. He traces his fingers along the bumps of my spine, pressing more kisses in random places.
I adore the way it feels when he touches me.
Even in the most passionate moments, he’s always gentle, kind, cognizant of my needs. And tonight is no different. It’s like he knows exactly what I need before I’m even fully aware of it.
His lips skim the curve of my shoulder as he unsnaps my bra, but he still isn’t in a rush. He licks, kisses, and nibbles my neck, throat, and shoulders before finally letting the dress fall halfway down. My bra finally disappears when he tosses it to the side and he turns me to face him.
“Fuck, I love your breasts.” He dips his head, sucking on one nipple.
My breasts are a lot more sensitive now, but he seems to sense exactly how much is too much and immediately backs off.
His tongue is warm and wet against my skin, every nerve ending slowly coming alive.
When he moves to the other breast, the first one feels oddly abandoned and I bring my hand up to massage it, keep the sensations going because this is spectacular torture.
“You like that, baby?” he murmurs, momentarily lifting his head.
“I love when you touch me.”
He smiles, a wicked gleam in his eyes telling me he’s only just getting started.
It’s nice being with someone whose libido matches mine—and who knows exactly what makes me tick.
Looking down at him sucking on one of my nipples is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen, and I’m torn between wanting to watch and just closing my eyes and enjoying.
“Your breasts are a lot more sensitive,” he murmurs. “Let me know if it’s too much.”
“I will.”
Now he drops to his knees and presses his face against my mid-section, his tongue circling my belly button. Then he brings his hands around, gently flattening them against the pooch that has popped a little in the last week.
“Our baby is growing in there,” he says in a throaty whisper. “And you’re still the sexiest woman I know.”
The protest dies on my lips because…I don’t want to negate his feelings. Or the way hearing those words makes me feel. Maybe he’s lying. Maybe he’s exaggerating to make me feel better, but whatever it is, it’s exactly what I need.
And he seems perfectly content to just continue his sensual assault, using his mouth, hands, and fingers to send me into the most heightened state of arousal.
“Tate…” There’s no mistaking the need in my voice.
“Just a little longer,” he whispers. “I’m having so much fun caressing you.”
With one hand cupping my ass and his mouth continuing to do delicious things to my skin, he uses his free hand to slowly slide down the thong I’m wearing. And then he goes back to kissing me. My hip bones, the crease of my thigh, and back to my stomach.
“Tate…” I whimper.
He lifts his gaze to mine and we stare at each other for a long moment.
“On the bed,” he says gruffly, eyes never leaving my face.
I can’t move fast enough, spreading out on my back, and watching as he strips for me. Slowly. Methodically. Almost like a tease.
But it’s gorgeous to watch inch after inch of tattooed skin coming into view.
And the whole time he’s watching me watch him.
“Like anything you see?” he asks quietly.
“Everything.”
When he’s naked, his erection proudly bobbing against his groin, he moves toward me, crawling across the mattress.
“Pretty soon I won’t be able to lie on top of you,” he says gently. “Is it okay if we do it that way tonight?”
“Yes.” I hold out my arms and he covers my body with his.
His lips find mine and without a word, he reaches down to position himself at my dripping entrance—and slides right in. I moan into his mouth, my hips lifting to meet his. He brings one of my legs up and around so my calf is resting on his ass, and then he starts to move.
It’s not slow or gentle anymore, but it’s glorious.
“Baby, you feel so good around my bare cock,” he groans.
“More, Tate.”
I’m not sure what happens next, but the time he spent turning me on has me already on the brink and I squeeze around him, trying to hold back. Make this moment of perfection last longer.
“No, baby, don’t do that,” he says. “Let it go—because I’m right behind you.”
He thrusts in firm and deep, bottoming out a few times.
I feel that magical coiling in my belly, the fluttering of my vagina around him, and then there’s nothing I can do but let it happen. And he’s right there with me, pulsing and panting, his mouth still fused to mine.
“I think I like married sex more than single sex,” he says with a soft chuckle.
“I like any sex with you,” I whisper.
“Happy wedding day, Summer.”
“Happy wedding day, Tate.”
“I hope it was at least a little bit of what you wanted.” His voice is soft, loving.
“It was everything I could have wanted under the circumstances.”
He brushes my hair out of my eyes and lightly kisses my forehead. “I hope every day we have together can be as incredible as today.”
Me too.