Page 31 of The Engagement
“I can’t. It’s ourhoneymoon. I can’t come to bed wearing a man’s T-shirt.”
I hear a muffled sigh through the door. “You didn’t bring anything with you? A nightgown, maybe?”
“Yes, I brought something with me, but now I’ve got cold feet. I can’t wear it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’slingerie, and it’s see-through! I mean, you can seeeverything!”
This time, I swear I hear a muffled chuckle. “Honey, I’ve already seen everything lots of times.” He sighs. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter what you wear to bed.”
“Of course it does! It’s ourhoneymoon. I should have thought this through. I should haverealized—”
I hear a soft metal clicking noise, and then the bathroom door opens a few inches. He picked the lock! Mack pokes his head through the opening. His chest is bare, and it looks like he’s wearing only a pair of dark gray boxer-briefs which hug him like a glove, outlining every delectable inch of him.
When he sees me standing here in my underwear and bra, he smiles. “Erin, you look beautiful just as you are.” He pushes the bathroom door open and walks into the room. “You don’t need to wear some fancy—” His gaze lands on the barely-more-than-a-thong pair of panties on the vanity. “Oh, wow.”
“Beth pressured me into getting it.”
I’m distracted momentarily by the sight of his mostly-bare body. My gaze skims his body, down his firm chest, his ridged abdomen, and past the happy trail that disappears beneath the waistband of his boxers. The outline of his erection is clearly visible underneath his underwear.
His smile widens. “I think it’s pretty. The color matches your eyes.”
“I can’t wear it.”
“Why not? It’s—”
“I’ll look stupid in it.”
“No, you won’t.” His expression softens. “Honey….” He opens his arms, and I walk into them for a much-needed hug. He kisses the side of my head and then whispers, “Erin, you could never look stupid. Even if you were wearing a burlap sack, you would still be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
I pull back and stare into his eyes. “You’re putting it on a little bit thick there. I am not—”
He cups my face and meets my gaze with all sincerity. “Yes, you are. And you know what?”
“What?”
“I’d give anything to see you in this outfit.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Really. Please, wear it for me.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. “You’re not just saying that to be nice?”
He raises three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“Fine,” I say begrudgingly. “I’ll put it on, but if you laugh, I swear I’ll—”
He backs out of the room with his hands raised in mock surrender. “It’ll never happen. You have my word.” And then he closes the door behind him, leaving me alone in the bathroom with my sexy, see-through garments.
Okay, fine. I can do this.
Summoning every bit of courage I can muster, I slip off my plain white bra and underwear, and quickly, before I can change my mind, I pull on the barely there lace panties and the sheer lacy camisole top. I don’t dare look at myself in the mirror, because if I do, I know I’ll chicken out. And Mack deserves a wife who isn’t a chicken.
The rest of me is ready, so I open the bathroom door and peer out to spot Mack sitting on the side of the bed.
When I step out of the bathroom, he shoots to his feet.
