Page 51 of Tart
“The trial and the nightmare of Darla McFinkle,” she explained, resting on my chest.
“I thought the trial hadn’t started yet?”
“It didn’t, and it won’t. Darla took a plea deal. We don’t have to go to court. She’s going away. She won’t be able to bother Hay-Hay ever again.” Her words were solid, but they were rough. They told of the unbelievable fear that sudden trauma often brought out. They told me how much she hated what Darla did to her sister and how glad she was that Haylee didn’t have to go through a trial.
I rubbed her back to soothe her and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “How long is she going away for?”
She glanced up at me, almost as though she just realized she was in my arms. “Hay-Hay said five years and then she’ll have ten years of probation. Darla won’t be allowed to live within fifty miles of Lake Pendle, and she can’t contact any of us, or she’ll go back to prison.”
I held her to me and rocked her a few times. “That’s great, sweetart. She’s out of your lives. I’m relieved for all three of you. You get to move on now without the looming trial or threat of Darla being acquitted and staying in town.”
“I’m so relieved,” she said, her voice telling me just how much while her hand rubbed against my soft t-shirt. “You’re still wet.”
I laughed and kissed the top of her head again. “I was just finishing in the shower when you called out. I’m officially done with curriculum work for the summer. I still have work to do, but for the most part, I can do it here.”
She looked up at me with her gorgeous hazel eyes shining. She was stunning, even on a Friday afternoon wearing nothing but a simple sundress and her hair thrown into a messy braid. I wanted every part of her from her beautiful eyes to her tortured and twisted leg. My hand ran along the length of her left thigh, watching her face for a reaction. I got none, which meant the skin wasn’t bothering her much anymore.
“I finished most of my work today, too,” she said, still watching my face. “I was wondering if maybe I could start working over here now? I know we said I’d use the apartment as my office, but now that I’m done with all the paperwork, all I need is my laptop. It’s kind of silly to walk over the—”
My lips took hers to show her how she didn’t need to explain to me why she wanted to work here. I wanted her here with me all the time. She mewled low in her throat and wrapped her arms around my neck, digging in for the deeper connection we always seemed to crave whenever our lips touched. My fingers found their way to her hair and pulled the hair tie from the braid, patiently unwinding her hair until it slid through my fingers like butter.
Her tongue was exploring mine, and I had to stop myself from rubbing my brutally hard dick against her leg. I didn’t want to hurt that leg. I was already in enough pain from the desire coursing through me, and I didn’t want her to be in pain, too. She was everything to me. That was a lightning-fast reaction to promising to love and cherish her until death does us part. Maybe to her, our vows were for show, but in my heart, they were real. I would stay married to this woman forever if she asked me to. I had so many plans to show her that. Starting this weekend, I was going to show her that a guy like me wanted everything to do with a girl like her.
I broke the kiss off, both of us panting with desire and unfulfilled need. “God, you’re incredible, Amber,” I whispered, her hair wound up in my hands.
“Is that your way of saying it’s okay if I work over here during the day?” she asked on a sigh of contentment.
“I’ll bring everything over here first thing Monday morning,” I promised, kissing her again. When we broke apart, she was gripping my shirt tightly in her fist.
“There isn’t a lot, but I’ll need it to work on this weekend. I don’t have anything else to do, so I might as well keep going on it.”
“Wrong,” I said, tapping her nose. “We have plans for the weekend.”
“We do? Are we finishing the deck?”
“The deck is being finished this weekend, but not by us. Chris is going to work on it while we’re gone.”
“While we’re gone. Where are we going?”
I untangled my fingers from her hair and sat her on the couch so I could turn to her. “On our honeymoon.”
She sat silently for a heartbeat before answering. “Our honeymoon?”
“Yes, that thing you do where you go off as a newly married couple to cement your marriage.”
She waved her hand in the air. “Bishop, we don’t need a honeymoon. The marriage isn’t real. You’re going to divorce me as soon as that brace is paid for.”
I didn’t justify that with a response. I wound my hands back in Amber’s hair and grasped her cheeks, caressing them with my thumbs. “Think of it as a short summer getaway if that makes you feel better, but we’re going. I already cleared it with your bestie, so she knows you won’t be available for the bakery until Monday.”
“My bestie?”
I nodded, and I noticed her long, slender, smooth neck bob as she swallowed.
“Where are we going?”
“To the lake. We’re going to have campfires, watch the waves, dip our toes in the wa—”
“No! I won’t go camping!” she shouted, jumping up off the couch. She forgot she didn’t have her crutches, and I caught her as she went down to the carpet, her right knee hitting the floor, which was better than her face.
