Wishing in Wisconsin (At the Altar Book 3) (3 page)

BOOK: Wishing in Wisconsin (At the Altar Book 3)
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He cupped her face in his hands, leaning down and brushing his lips across hers.  He could have stood there kissing her all day, but he knew that would be inappropriate.  He would wait for another time to kiss her the way he really wanted to.

When he raised his head, she was standing facing him, her lips parted slightly and her eyes closed.  He couldn't resist.  He lowered his head and kissed her one more time, lingering this time.  He heard a snicker from the congregation, and he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.  She was his.  He couldn't believe it.

As they walked to the back of the church, with her hand on his arm, he wondered what her name was.  He knew it would have been mentioned during the ceremony, but he didn't remember it.  When they reached the back of the church, he led her into the bride's room and closed the door with a snap, happy to see the lock on the door, which he quickly clicked.

She looked up at him with surprise. 
Why is he locking the door?  He doesn't think we're going to consummate right here, does he?  Because if he does, he's truly lost his mind.

He took her shoulders in his hands, his eyes meeting hers.  "I need to kiss you again," he said softly, his head lowering to hers.

Cindy raised her lips eagerly.  She'd never dated much, being too serious about her studies, and then her business, to attract much male attention.  She liked kissing him, though, and would do it all day if they could get away with it.  His slow Southern drawl lit a fire within her she hadn't realized was there. 

She knew she should be shy, and probably shouldn't want to be touching him yet, but she'd waited her entire life for her wedding day.  She'd read more romance novels than most women did in a lifetime.  Ready to get on with the physical aspect of her marriage, she saw no need to play coy.  Why should she act like someone she wasn't? 

Raising her hands to his shoulders, she pulled him down to her, parting her lips for his kiss.  He pressed his lips firmly to hers, his tongue stroking her lips.  His hands moved to her waist, pulling her more firmly against him.  When he pulled away, he felt her breath on his lips, and it felt almost more intimate than the kiss itself had.  "You're so beautiful."

Cindy smiled, her hands stroking his beard.  "I like this," she said.

"My beard or kissing?" he asked with a grin.

"Both!"

He laughed.  "Let's sit for a minute."

She nodded, following him to two chairs side by side against one wall of the room.  Even as she sat beside him, she made sure her hand was in his, touching him.  She didn't want to let go, afraid he'd disappear.  She'd expected to feel nothing, but found she felt everything all at once.  How could a stranger make her feel so much?

"First off, can you tell me your name?  I know the preacher must have said it, but I was in a daze!"

Cindy laughed softly.  "I'm Cindy Lambert."

"Cindy Zayne now," he said, his finger rubbing against her bottom lip.

She smiled.  "Cindy Zayne," she repeated.  "And you're Stephen Zayne."

He groaned.  "My friends call me Trey.  I'm a third."

"Trey.  I like that."  She leaned toward him, raising her lips to his once again.

Trey leaned down and took her lips with his, pressing her close to him.  She was something else.

"Lachele said you needed me to move to you," he said between kisses.  "You have a job here?"

Cindy nodded, her hand against the side of his neck.  "I own a bed and breakfast."

He looked into her blue eyes, startled by their brightness.  "Is that where we'll need to live?"

She nodded.  "My bedroom is on the first floor, and there's a space for an office.  Lachele told me you could work from anywhere.  The guests have the upstairs."

"Sounds reasonable," he said, kissing her softly once again. 

She sighed.  "We really should head to the bowling alley for the reception," she whispered.

He grinned.  "Our reception is in a bowling alley?"

She nodded.  "My best friend's parents have always owned the bowling alley in town, so when we decided to marry, it seemed like the place to hold it.  There's a big room that people rent out to one side of the place."

"Will we get to bowl?" he asked, picturing her wearing bowling shoes with her wedding dress, and it was all he could do to keep from laughing aloud.

"Of course not.  We can another time, though, if you like to bowl."  She shrugged.  "It's one of the most popular activities in town.  In the summer, we swim and hike.  In the winter we snowmobile and we bowl."

"Snowmobile?  I've heard that's fun!"  He couldn't wait to try it.

"You've never been snowmobiling?  Where are you
from?
"  It was hard to believe there were people alive who had never done something so basic.

"Texas." 

"Oh.  I guess there's not much snow there."

"It ices more than it snows."  He shrugged.  "I love the idea of having four seasons."

She laughed.  "If you can handle winter starting in October and going through April, you'll love Wisconsin."  She got to her feet.  "Let's go to our reception and pretend we want to spend the evening with everyone."

"We don't?" he asked, standing and putting an arm around her to keep her at his side.

"Oh, I like people, especially the ones who came to our wedding, but...I'd rather be alone with my new husband."

He stopped, moving his index finger beneath her chin and tipping her face up to his.  "Is that so?"

She nodded, her tongue sneaking out to lick her lips.  "That's so."

He lowered his head, kissing her softly.  "And if we were alone?  What would you want to do?"

She blushed, burying her face in his neck.  "Well, what most newlyweds like to do comes to mind."  If she was being too bold, then he'd just have to live with it.  She wasn't about to pretend to be someone she wasn't.

His eyes widened.  He'd truly expected her to ask for more time before they consummated the marriage once they met, but not his bride.  How did he get so lucky?

 

*****

 

The reception went way too quickly for Trey's tastes.  He wanted to get to know her friends and family, and he found he was more and more nervous about the wedding night.  He'd never been with a woman before, and he was afraid she'd realize it. 

They cut the cake and fed a piece to each other.  He lost his breath when she licked his fingers clean.  It was such an intimate act.  He wanted to groan at her touch, but too many people were watching them.

He wished the wedding had been later in the day, because it was only four when the reception was over.  What would they do for the remainder of the time until he could take her to bed?  He thought about his truck that needed to be unpacked, but that didn't seem nearly glamorous enough for a wedding day.

"Did you drive?" he asked as they stepped outside.  "My truck is still at the church."

She laughed softly.  "I live less than half a mile from here.  We'll walk it."

He eyed her dress skeptically.  "Your shoes won't hurt your feet?"

She lifted the edge of her gown and showed him her flats.  "They're certainly at least as comfortable as your shoes."

He grinned.  "I still need to get my truck.  I need something to change into."

She nodded, and they walked back toward the church, which was only a block over.  When she saw his truck, she smiled.  "I like your truck.  What year is that thing?"

"It's a '56 Ford F-100," he said proudly.  "I bought it when I graduated from high school, and spent the whole summer fixing it up so I could drive it to college."

She walked toward it as if in awe.  Once she was close enough, she reached out and touched the side with the palm of her hand.  "It's beautiful."  She grinned at him over her shoulder.  "My grandpa and I fixed up cars together.  It was our thing.  I had a '67 Camaro when I graduated.  I drove it to college."

He grinned, thrilled they had something like that in common.  He assumed she had only done the painting and interior work, but that was okay.  They'd still make a good team.  "We'll have to fix one up for our kid."

She blushed at his words, thinking about what it would take to make a baby.  "I'd like to work on a car with you."

He put his key in the door and unlocked it, taking her hand and helping her into the truck, tucking her skirt around her so it wouldn't get stuck in the door.  "We can't ruin your dress."

She started to say that she hoped their daughter would wear it someday, but she bit her tongue.  It felt too strange talking to him about the possibility of children when they'd just met.  Of course, he
was
her husband. 

He ran around to the driver's side of the truck and got in beside her, shifting the truck into gear after starting it.  "Where to?"

"We need to go to the B&B," she responded.

"How do I get there?" he asked.

She laughed softly.  "I'm sorry.  I'm used to everyone knowing where everything is."  She gave him directions, that included, 'Turn at the big oak tree.  You can't miss it.'

He had no idea of the difference between an oak tree and a maple tree, but he started driving, hoping she'd tell him when he'd reached the correct tree along their journey.  It only took a minute or two for him to pull into her driveway.  He got out, running around the truck to open the door for her.

Trey eyed the huge house, wondering just how many guests she would have at a time.

As if she'd read his mind, Cindy told him, "I didn't take any reservations for tonight.  We have one night alone, and I'll have to get back to work tomorrow."

He was relieved.  "At least we'll be alone for our wedding night," he said, then immediately blushed.  He hadn't meant to say that aloud.

Cindy looked at him with a grin.  "Yeah," she said with a grin.  "We'll be alone tonight."  She loved the way he blushed anytime anything intimate was mentioned.  She may be a virgin, but she certainly wasn't as shy as he was about it.

Chapter Three

 

 

They'd only had finger foods served at the reception, so Cindy changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top and went to the kitchen to fix them a quick supper.  Trey wasn't sure if he was happy or disappointed that they weren't going to start their wedding night immediately.  Sure, he was physically ready for anything, but he was nervous. 

He waited in the living room while she changed, and then changed into something more suitable himself.  He needed to get his things unpacked.  Truly, he had sold most of his furniture, at Lachele's request, but he'd kept a few things he needed.  It wasn't a ton, but it was enough that it would take him a while to get settled.

Once he was in his shorts and a comfortable tee-shirt, he wandered into the kitchen, watching her chop potatoes with a knife.  He'd never seen anyone chop anything quite the way she was.  His mother had preferred drive-thru to a home- cooked meal, and he'd never really learned to cook as a result. 

"You're really good at that," he said finally.

She grinned at him over her shoulder.  "I learned to cook watching my grandmother.  She didn't use mixes for anything."

"What are you making?"

"Oh, just potato soup.  It's one of my grandmother's favorite recipes."

"Was she at the wedding?" he asked, wanting to know more about her.

Cindy stopped chopping for a moment, wishing–wishing he knew not to ask that in her grandmother's kitchen while she was doing something Cindy had done with her grandmother a million times.  "No, she died three years ago.  A few days before we were supposed to open our doors for the first time."

"I'm sorry.  I didn't know." 

She shrugged, dashing a tear from her eye.  "She would have liked you."

"Did you spend a lot of time with your grandparents when you were little?"

"I lived with them until I went to college."

"Oh, your dad seemed nice when I talked to him at the reception.  Why did you live with your grandparents?"

Cindy briefly explained about her parents' deaths.  "My grandparents brought me home from the hospital.  There was no one else.  The Rivers were like parents to me, but they just helped my grandparents when they could."

"So who are the Rivers?  Was that the man who gave you away?"

Cindy nodded.  "He was.  He is my best friend's dad.  She was my maid of honor."

"I saw her in the corner talking to Dr. Lachele after the ceremony.  Is she going to take the plunge?"

She laughed.  "Take the plunge?  Did you feel like you were diving into ice cold water by marrying me?"

He blushed.  "Only a little."

She scooped up the chopped potatoes and dropped them into a pot of water, putting the pot on the stove.  After turning on the burner, she walked across the kitchen to him, putting her right hand on his chest, over his heart.  "I hope you feel comfortable with me soon."  She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his, her hands going to his shoulders and kneading them.

He caught her by the waist and pulled her to him, her hips flush against his, leaving no doubt about his desire for her.  After a moment, he pulled back, looking deep into her eyes.  "I guess I should bring my junk in while you finish dinner."

Cindy debated saying she could feel his junk pressing against her, but she decided not to be so risqué.  She would enjoy seeing him blush, but even though she thought it, she wasn't sure she could say it in a calm enough way that it wouldn't ruin it.  It wasn't like she was exactly sexually experienced.  Instead she said, "You do that.  Dinner will be ready in less than an hour."

He nodded, leaning down to kiss her quickly once more before heading out to the truck.  It didn't take long for him to carry everything into the house.  She had shown him an office they'd share at the opposite end of the first floor from their bedroom.  He grinned when he thought about actually sharing a bedroom with her.  Every single night for the rest of their lives.  No, he didn't know her yet.  He couldn't say he loved her, but he was definitely in lust, and that was a good start for him.

Cindy put the food on the table and called him in to supper.  "Did you finish?" She had watched him go in and out with lots of boxes.  She hoped he was close to finished, because there wasn't a lot of room for more.

"Just brought in the last box," he told her, wiping sweat from his brow.  He picked up the water glass she'd filled and swallowed it all in one gulp.  He walked to the tap and refilled and drank the second down as well.  When he refilled a third time, he put it on the table where it had been. 

She watched him with wide eyes.  "Are you part camel?"

He made a face.  "Texas is hotter, but Wisconsin is a lot more humid."

She sat at her place at the table, and looked at him, waiting for him to sit.  "I'm sure Texas is hotter, but I've never been.  Do you think you'll miss it?"

He shrugged.  "Can you ever leave the state you've lived in for more than thirty years without missing it?"

"I wouldn't know.  I left for college, but that was only four years."

"Do you wish you'd had a chance to be gone longer?  Or are you glad you came home when you did?"

"I would have liked more time on my own, but my grandmother needed me.  I don't regret spending her last days with her in any way at all. I was where I needed to be.  Now, though, I'm tied down to the B&B.  Maybe someday I'll get to do a bit of traveling, but it would mean hiring someone to take my place for a while, which would be a pain."

"Someday then," he said, leaning over to take a bite of his soup.  "This is really good!"

Cindy smiled.  "Thanks.  It's one of my favorites."

"I think it'll be one of mine, too!"  He took another bite.  "Do you provide food for the people who stay here?  How does that work?"

"I provide breakfast.  Some people have me pack a lunch for them, especially if they're going to be out on the water all day, but there's a fee for that.  I never do dinner, though."

"Water?  Is there a lake near here?"

She laughed.  "This is Wisconsin.  There are lakes everywhere!  We're about fifteen minutes from Petenwell Lake."

"I have no real concept of where we are.  I bet winters are a bear this far north, though."

"Wait 'til we have our first blizzard.  No electricity.  We'll cook over the fireplace and sleep in the living room in front of the fire.  It was my favorite thing about being a kid.  Long winter nights with board games and a fireplace."  She grinned at him.  "Of course, by the time I was a teenager, I'd discovered the internet, and I got mad when the lights were out, and I couldn't email my friends non-stop."

"I can understand that!  Do you still send emails?"

She shrugged.  "More than my share.  Usually to college friends and for business.  I get email confirmations when someone makes a reservation."

"It's going to be strange sharing my house and my wife with a bunch of strangers," he said with a frown.

"You'll get used to it, and we call them 'guests' not strangers."

"Guests.  I'll do my best!"

He helped her put the dishes in the sink after they finished eating.  "Do we need to wash them now?"

She shook her head.  "I'm just going to run water in them, and I'll do them in the morning.  As long as there's no caked-on food, it won't be a big deal."  She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the front door, moving to sit with him on the front porch swing.  "This is my favorite place in the world to be on warm summer evenings.  Right here, watching the stars."

"Where I live, the stars are never quite that bright.  I mean, you can see them, but there's enough pollution, especially in the summer, that it's hard to go outside.  Plus in the summer, we're always having ozone days."

She snuggled into his side, her head resting comfortably against his shoulder.  How was it that she already felt like touching him was right?  "What on God's green earth is an ozone day?"

Trey laughed softly.  "It means the pollution in the atmosphere is so strong, usually because of the high heat levels, that it's not necessarily safe to spend a lot of time outside.  There are green days, yellow days, red days, and black days.  No one should be outside on red or black days, but yellow days depend on your respiratory health."

"That's just...odd." 

His arm came around her shoulders and he pulled her a little closer, wondering how long he should wait before he grabbed her hand and dragged her off to bed.  Or should he carry her?  What would she expect?  She didn't look heavy, but he wasn't exactly a guy used to carrying anything heavier than a twenty-four pack of Coke.  What if he dropped her?

"You get used to it," he finally said.

"You seem distracted.  What were you thinking about?"  Hopefully it wasn't another woman.  She wasn't sure she could deal with that on their wedding day.

"Oh, nothing much," he lied.  How could he tell her he was wondering if it was too soon to take her to bed?  "So I guess you do this a lot in the summer.  What do you do in the winter?"

"I like to read in front of the fire."

"Really?  You like to read?  What do you read?"  He was more of a computer game nerd himself, but he admired someone who could entertain herself by reading for long periods of time.

"You won't laugh?"  She was used to hiding her reading habits from most people, but eventually, he'd figure it out.

"No...unless you only read Dr. Seuss or something like that."

"I read romance.  A lot of my friends in school made fun of me for it, but Cissie and I have both been addicted to romance since we were young teens.  We swap them back and forth, and loan each other Kindle books."

He raised an eyebrow.  "Romance?  Isn't that supposed to be the downfall of the American lifestyle, making women always want what they can't have?  Aren't romance heroes all perfect?"

She wrinkled her nose.  "I don't like the ones with perfect heroes.  I prefer my men flawed any day!"  She turned more fully toward him, looking up at him with her chin on his shoulder.  "What's
your
biggest flaw?"

He looked at her warily.  Should he answer honestly, or was this more like a job interview where you were supposed to admit to a flaw, but turn it around and make it sound like it was really a good thing?  "I don't know.  Probably that I'd rather sit around playing video games in my underwear than doing just about anything else.  I can't cook to save my life.  I eat like a ten year old boy, and have the sense of humor of one.  Um...Maybe I shouldn't tell you about
all
my flaws.  You can discover some for yourself.  It'll be a fun game for us to play!"

She laughed and shook her head.  "Video games in your underwear?  So, do you wear boxers or tighty whities?"

He blushed so red, she could see it in the pale light streaming through the window behind them.  "You don't want to figure that out for yourself later?" 

"No, I want you to tell me
now
!"  She moved her fingers over his ribs and tickled him, her hands moving down toward the fastening of his shorts to look for herself.  Never in her life had she felt so free with a man.  She wasn't sure if it was because they were already married, so there was nothing to worry about there, or if it was because she was just more comfortable with him.  Whichever, she was having fun teasing him.

Trey couldn't believe she was being so bold, but he had to admit, if only to himself, that he liked it.  A lot.  He tried to catch her hands, laughing like a young boy.  "Stop that!"

"I wanna know!  Tell me, or I'll figure it out for myself!"

He slowly shook his head, secretly wanting her to push to figure it out for herself.  "Nope."

She launched herself at him, moving onto his lap facing him, one knee on either side of this thighs.  She acted like she was going to tickle him again, but instead, she leaned forward and caught his lips with hers.

Trey was surprised by the kiss, but he didn't move to stop her.  He wasn't stupid, after all.  He caught her shoulders and pulled her closer, his hands moving around to her back.

Cindy rubbed her hands over his shoulders through his shirt.  He was thin, but strong.  She pulled his tee-shirt up over his head and threw it onto the swing beside them.  Her hands carefully explored his chest, from the light feathering of hair to his waistband. 

Trey let out a low groan, thrilled to have her hands on him the way she did.  He had no idea how to be the aggressor in lovemaking, and he'd be thrilled if she just took control so he didn't have to.  Her hands unbuttoned his shorts, and she spread them wide. 

Suddenly her mouth was off his.  "Tighty whities?  You wore tighty whities on your wedding day?  Are you kidding me?"  She tried to make it sound like she knew all about men's underwear fashions, and like he'd made a terrible mistake. 

Trey felt the heat creep up his neck into his face for what seemed like the millionth time since he'd met her.  "So the kiss was just so you could make fun of my underwear?" 

Cindy laughed, leaning down and biting his bottom lip with a quick nip.  "The kiss was because I like kissing you!  And maybe a bit because I was hoping you'd get carried away and drag me off to bed and have your way with me."

BOOK: Wishing in Wisconsin (At the Altar Book 3)
12.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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