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Authors: J. L. Berg

Ready to Wed (3 page)

BOOK: Ready to Wed
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“The concierge gave me a couple places to check out, but based on everything she told me, there is one place I want to go to first.”

I gave her a thumbs up and we were on our way.

“I think you should get a pink dress Mommy.”

“Oh yeah? I’m not sure pink is my color baby girl.”

She gave me a pointed look that could only be pulled off by a five year old and said, “Pink is everyone’s color Mommy.”

Put in my place by my own offspring.
Figures.

“Well, if there is a pink dress…I promise I’ll try it on.” I gave Leah a wink, knowing full well I wouldn’t have to keep my word. What kind of bridal shop had pink dresses?

I really should have kept my mouth shut, because as soon as we walked into the door of the beautifully decorated bridal salon Leah had chosen, in all its pink, glittery glory, was a dress that would have put Glenda the Good Witch to shame.

I think I almost went deaf from the squeals that emanated from my daughter.

“Mommy! You have to try this on!”

At least she said I just had to try it on. Based on the decibel level of that squeal, I figured she would have demanded I buy it on the spot.

No doubt hearing the noise from our grand entrance, a store clerk emerged and gave us a warm welcome. She was the nicest woman you could ask for when shopping for a wedding dress. A complete contrast to the stores I visited back home. They were all rush, rush…and highly annoyed I had come in at the last minute. Who gets married that quickly?
Um, lots of people.
Get over it. And no, I wasn’t pregnant. But thanks for giving me the once over.

Was it a crime that I wanted to look good on my special day, even if it wasn’t a year in the future?

The woman helping us, Maria, seemed to understand perfectly, having most likely helped plenty of women in similar situations. We weren’t in Vegas, but with views and romance surrounding you at every turn in this place, impromptu weddings were likely to occur.

“What type of dress were you looking for?” she asked, which took me by surprise.

“Whatever you have off the rack, I guess.”

“Oh darling…we have plenty. Tell me what you envision wearing the day you marry your special man, and I will see what I can do.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe I was overly emotional from everything that was happening…but I began to tear up. Leah threw an arm around me and gave me a gentle hug.

“See, I told you we would find you something special. Did you ever stop to think that maybe your dress getting trashed wasn’t a sign that you weren’t supposed to get married, but a sign that you weren’t supposed to get married in that dress?”

I looked up at her confused.

“Clare, don’t try and hide it. I know you hated that dress.”

I tried to argue with her, but I couldn’t. I really did hate that dress. It was, like I said, beautiful…with a sweeping matte satin train and fitted strapless bodice…but it wasn’t me at all.

“When I see myself on that beach, marrying Logan, I see myself in vintage lace. Something simple— timeless and elegant, but not overdone.”

Maria smiled, “I think I have just the thing.”

 

 

~Logan~

 

“She’s going to kill you, man,” my soon to be brother in law said, shaking his head as I moved the last bag across the hall.

“I might kill myself first.”

“They’re not back yet. You could still change your mind. She’d never know.”

I stopped in the middle of the hall, looking back and forth between the two doors and shook my head.

“No, I want to do this. I think we need a bit of tradition.”

“Okay, but do me one favor?”

“Sure, what’s that?”

“Let me be around when you tell her?” he said, before hitting me on the back and laughing. I groaned, hating myself already.

We didn’t have to wait long. After finishing the task that would no doubt land me in the dog house, we headed downstairs to the bar and met the girls in the lobby, returning from their afternoon out. My eyes came to rest on Clare, and I felt my breath hitch. Even after months together, waking up each morning by her side, day after day, she still managed to steal my breath with just one glimpse.

She was glowing, full of joy, and no longer carrying that devastated expression she’d arrived with after finding her destroyed wedding dress.

Instantly, I was at her side. Bending down, I placed a lingering, tender kiss on her lips.

“I’m guessing it was a good trip?”

She smiled against my lips, and nodded.

“Leah, could you take Maddie to the pool for an hour or so, while I unpack with Logan?”

Her eyes had that look. That mischievous, want-to-fuck-you look. I was so screwed.

“Yep. On it. Come on, Short Stack!”

Leah picked up a giggling Maddie and headed upstairs to Leah’s room to change. Maddie, deciding that since she was at the beach, a swim suit must be worn at all times. She was hopping up and down, ready to jump in. Leah kept tickling her, telling her to be patient. Garrett looked back at us, obviously trying to decide whether or not he wanted to be around for my bomb drop, and finally gave us a salute and hurried after Leah, catching her in the elevator just before it closed.

It was just her and me. She looked up with those seductive green eyes I adored and pulled my hand towards the elevator.

“So, about upstairs…,” I started, but was interrupted the second the elevator doors closed. Clare pushed me against the wall with her free hand, holding her garment bag with the other and pressing her body against mine. She teased me with a light kiss, nipping at my bottom lip with her teeth, before taking charge in an all-consuming kiss that left me dizzy.

My brain went haywire, and I lost the ability to think beyond her and how good her lips felt, how I wanted to take her right there in that elevator and if she didn’t stop kissing me like that, I would.

I don’t remember how, but somehow we made it out of the elevator when it came to our floor and to our suite. I swiped the keycard and we all but fell into the room. Immediately after closing the door, I had her pinned to it, running my hands down the curve of her ass to hook her legs around me. She wrapped both of her arms around my neck. I had no idea where the garment bag went and at that point I didn’t fucking care. I said she could get married in a burlap sack, and I meant it.

Pinned securely to the wall, her hand went to the front of my shorts, palming my hard length through the fabric. Just that one touch from her could end me. God, what the hell was I thinking earlier? I needed to go across the hall and move everything back before she noticed.

Her eyes focused on me, a pleased smile spreading across her face, knowing she could bring so much pleasure with such a small gesture.

Just as I was about to reciprocate, dive my hand into the juncture of her thighs and feel that wet heat I loved, her eyes moved away from mine and focused on the room.

“Where are the rest of the suitcases?”

Fuck.

“Uhhh…”

“Logan, where are your suitcases?”

“Across the hall?” I don’t know why I phrased it like a question. Like that would help.

“Across the hall? Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. Forget it. I’ll move them back.” I moved in to kiss her, wanting to get back to the naughty fun we were having, but she turned her head, giving me an amused and slightly pissed look.


You
moved them? Why would you do that?”

I ran my hands up her shirt, still intent on distracting her. She slapped away my hand. I was not getting out of this.

“I thought it might be nice for the two of us to…you know, not be together until the wedding. A bit of tradition.”

“Oh, I see.”

Well, that wasn’t so bad.

“And what is this exactly?” she asked, referring to the fact that I had her pressed against the door of our once shared suite, seconds away from stripping her naked and fucking her until she screamed my name so loud all the neighbors heard.

“I decided, after a bit of thinking, that it was a dumb idea…so I’m moving everything back.”

She gave me a mischievous grin. A very different type of mischief though than what I witnessed in the lobby. Whatever she was thinking now, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be enjoying it.

“No I think it’s a great idea,” she said, sliding her beautiful legs down to the ground, and giving my body a slight push off hers.

“You do?”

“Oh yeah. What is that saying? Distance makes the heart grow fonder?”

She sauntered away, bending down to pick up the garment bag she’d dropped in our mangled entrance minutes ago. She made a show of it too, sticking her ass up and bending down slowly.

How many days until we got married? Three?

I was so fucked.

 

 

~Clare~

 

“Men are so dumb,” Leah laughed, having just heard about my afternoon nookie that wasn’t.

“I know! So, now, I’m holding him to it. If he thought it was such a great idea, then we’ll do it. Separate rooms and no sex until our wedding night.”

“That’s mean,” she said.

“Oh, no. What’s mean is that I’m going to make it hell for him.” I emphasized my point, perking up my boobs that were on full display in my very revealing teal dress I’d chosen for dinner.

“Okay, now that’s just evil. Good job.” She gave me a high five.

We continued to laugh and enjoy our relaxed time together. We didn’t have a lot of it back home. One of us usually had to run off and we never had enough time. She worked full time as a nurse, and I had Maddie and now Logan. Our lives were chaotic, but we always made time for each other.

After an hour or so, everyone else joined us for dinner. We had a large party. My parents had flown in just a few hours ago, along with Logan’s best friend Colin and his wife Ella who brought along their newborn son. We all ooh’ed and ahh’d over Colin’s mini-me before settling down to eat. Maddie had spent the afternoon swimming with Leah, and when my parents arrived, she took them on a tour of the grounds, showing them where all of her favorite spots were. She’d only been here for a few hours longer than them, but she was the expert. Naturally.

Logan sat down next to me, noticing my dress right away. His eyes widened and zeroed in on the cleavage billowing out. This was going to be fun.

“Nana, did you know that ice cream tastes even better on an island?” Maddie said to my mother, who had just taken her seat next to my father. Both were dressed casually and looked happy and relaxed. I was so glad to have them here.

“I didn’t know that! You’ll have to show me!”

“Logan took me right when we got off the plane and he got chocolate and I got mango. It was yummy!”

“So yummy, she got it all over her dress,” Logan exclaimed, giving her a nudge which made her giggle.

Kids can never eat ice cream without making a royal mess. It’s like they don’t understand the concept of how to lick the ice cream. Only mash.
Lick the ice cream? Okay Mommy!
Five seconds later, the kid is covered in it from head to toe.

“You forgot to mention that I got chocolate, but I didn’t actually get to eat any of it,” Logan said, giving me a look.

“Your fault. You shouldn’t have ordered chocolate. You should know better by now.”

“I asked you if you wanted any and you said no!”

“Still your fault.”

I love chocolate. A lot. Bordering on slightly obsessed? Maybe. He should know not to bring any around me. I’ve been stealing chocolate and desserts from him since our first date. Even before, actually.

All throughout dinner, I caught Logan staring at me. He was distracted and would have to be asked questions more than once before he could answer. My teal man-killing dress was working.

Was making my fiancé miserable days before our wedding mean? Maybe. But it was fun.

 

 

~Logan~

 

That dress. That god damn dress. Where the hell did she get it? And how soon could I peel it off of her? I knew what she was doing. I knew she was playing me…pushing all my buttons to punish me for moving out of our suite.

Men are dumb. We make stupid mistakes. A lot.

Even the smartest of us, no matter how many Ivy League degrees we may have nailed to our walls, are stupid as fuck when it comes to the opposite sex. I realized this about half a second too late—right around the time I had my fiancée pinned against a door, ready to devour her.

Tradition? A little time apart?
Fuck that.
I tried to move back in immediately, but no…the damage had already been done.

Clare had already initiated my punishment before I had formed the words of my apology. And now that punishment was right up in my face—two round perfect breasts surrounded by a teal dress that was probably illegal in some countries. She leaned forward laughing, and I got an even better view down that valley of sin.

Dying. I was dying.

Shifting slightly, hoping to not draw attention to my now very uncomfortable position, I tried to get back into the conversation that was taking place at the table. But all I could see was Clare; her dark red hair, creamy smooth skin, and emerald green eyes that had held me prisoner since the moment I met her. A very willing prisoner, mind you. I had no plans of ever escaping.

BOOK: Ready to Wed
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