Page 15 of Something Borrowed
Hopefully, Benji can be as supportive of his mother.
“You ain’t wrong, brother,” Benji guffaws, eyes softening as they land on his old lady. “I loved her the moment I saw her. My sister, my ma, they read those stories, you know. You write them. I never believed it until I felt it. Until I knew how it felt. How it hits you once you know.”
“Then you believe that someone can feel something, can know without a doubt they’ve found their person?”
“Hell yes,” he remarks as we join the crowd as the rehearsal winds down, heading from the chapel. “Deny it, run from it, lie about what it is all you want. It is what it is. Love, soulmates, finding your person, it happens when it happens. Best thing to do is embrace it.”
Nodding, I am inclined to agree. Embrace it. Hold on to it. Never let it slip from your fingers. Passing Lark as we head out, I reach down to curl my fingers around hers. Letting out a little sigh, she allows it. No one can see us and even if they could, I no longer care. There is no reason to hide this.
“You look positively beautiful, love,” I bend to whisper against her ear, brushing her silky hear back with a nudge of my nose.
“Thank you. You look...you always look so handsome.”
“Trying to impress a certain woman,” I tease, kissing her beneath her ear. “Is it working?”
“Y-yes, it is. It is working.”
“Good. It is now my sole focus. Making you look twice. Seeing your smile. Feeling you come,” I whisper this against herthroat, smirking when her pulse leaps beneath my lips.
“Lawson,” she hisses even as her head tilts to give me access.
“Hmm, you love it, beautiful. You soak your pretty pussy if I talk dirty. We love it, don’t we?”
“Yes,” her answer is more a moan than a word.
“Good girl. We’re going to that wedding tonight. We’re going to dance, eat whatever cute foods they have that make you happy, talk about how we would do our own wedding. I’ll take you back to my room where I’m going to pretend we’re the newlyweds.”
Tilting her head back to gaze up at me, she nods. Because she wants this magical wedding weekend as badly as I do. But she also wants what she thinks I am teasing her with. Something I talked with her son about.
Embracing the once in a lifetime chance we’ve found together.
Going to the cigar style bar with the others, we toast to the nuptials tomorrow, to the loved ones who counted enough to be here. We talk about the bride and groom, share stories about our friendships with them and each other. Lark stays at my side as she tips back a whisky or two, beaming at her son and laughing with all of us. Once I think we’ve spent enough time with the party, I sneak us out of there, never letting go of her hand.
“Do you think they will notice us gone?”
“Perhaps. If they do, they might ask questions. I will answer them if they come. Stop thinking of a way out of this, Lark. I am not letting you get out of this without a fight.”
Blinking up at me as we stand together on the beach outside the resort, she smiles. In the pink dress, with her dark hair, she is a goddess in my eyes. I reach out, brushing her hair back from her face as a warm breeze tousles it. Lowering myhead, I kiss her softly, drawing her close as the kiss deepens.
“Let’s go crash another wedding, baby. I hope they have mini food at this one too!”
Laughing, we head for the chapel side of the resort. This wedding seems much more casual than the one last night. Flip flops and sundresses, colorful bouquets brighten up the room, and the couple seems ecstatic. They give vows that make us all laugh and sigh at their obvious connection.
We rush out with the others as a soaring song fills the chapel. With a group of strangers, we flood the beach in a rush of joy. To the beat of the joyous song, the crowd laughs as they throw handfuls of colorful flowers over the wedding party. Petals pour down in a rainbow shower as we stand there together, staring at one another. It hits me as hard, as deep, as true as anything has ever hit me before.
I am in love with Lark, and I want this same moment for us.
“We would have flowers at our wedding,” I whisper, hands tangling in her hair as I tip her head back in the sunlight. “Yellow ones. You love yellow, don’t you love?”
“Yes, I do. No one loves yellow so I do,” her voice shakes, her eyes glittering in the warm sun.
Those words hit me right where it counts. No one loved me, so she does. She will. It might not be a profession of love for our third act, but it is close. I will take it. Lowering my head, I touch my forehead to hers as I nod.
“That means I love it too. All the yellow flowers you wanted. Here on the beach or in the chapel?”
“On the beach,” she pants, her hands clutching at my biceps, tugging me close. “In the sunshine. You’re so beautiful in the sunshine, baby.”
“You’re beautiful in the moonlight. In the sunshine. In darkness, whispering my name and the filthy things you wantme to do to you.”
