Page 184 of Boss of Me
Maverick laughs devilishly and saunters off, leaving us alone again.
Leaning back against the banyan tree, Gunner pulls me against him with his arms encircling my waist and his chin resting on top of my head. We’re silent for a while, feeling the pounding surf below us as we enjoy the ukulele music coming from the stage.
“They’re good,” I say appreciatively. “Local band?”
“Yeah. David Kapono recommended them. They’re indie.”
I nod, swaying to the infectious rhythm. “If I owned a record label, I’d sign them in a heartbeat.”
Gunner pushes my hair to one side and kisses the curve of my neck. “Maybe I should buy you a record label.”
I laugh. “Gotta keep diversifying that portfolio, huh?”
“Sure. Why not?”
Turning around, I loop my arms around his neck and press my breasts against his chest, wringing a soft groan from him. As residual beads of rainwater fall from the leaves above us, I open my mouth and catch a few drops to share with Gunner, moaning as our tongues dance wetly.
“So damn hot.” His voice is a rough rasp, his cock throbbing against my stomach.
I smile, nibbling his lips. “We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do, don’t we?”
“Hell, yes.” Eyes glinting rakishly, he skims a hand down my back and squeezes my ass, whispering in my ear, “You’re not getting any sleep tonight.”
Delicious heat floods my body as I whisper back, “What else is new?”
He grins and holds me tighter as a soft breeze blows through the branches of the banyan tree. I close my eyes with a blissful smile, wondering if it’s possible to die of happiness.
After a few minutes, I say quietly, “I was so moved by your father’s beautiful toast at dinner. He said the sweetest things.”
“He meant every word. He’s always been in your corner, Marlowe. He adores you, says you’re the daughter he never had.” Gunner’s lips brush my temple. “Do you want to get married here? Or somewhere else?”
“Are you kidding?” I say, lifting my head to stare at him. “This place is perfect, Gunner. It’s a tropical paradise, and it already holds so many special memories for us. I can’t think of a better place to start our new lives together.”
“I agree.” He touches my face, his gaze gentle. “I was thinking maybe you could walk down the aisle to your father’s song, ‘Blue Wish.’”
My heart swells with so much emotion that tears sting my eyes. “That’s a wonderful idea,” I whisper past the lump in my throat. “Thank you for thinking of that.”
He strokes my hair and smiles down at me, his eyes glowing with love and the promise of a million tomorrows.
As the evening stretches toward midnight, the servers pass out flutes of champagne. On the cusp of a new year, there’s a palpable excitement and buzz in the air. People in the crowd start counting down from thirty as the band’s lead singer shouts the numbers into his mic.
“Twenty-nine!”
I smile up at Gunner, my heart beating faster.
“Twenty-eight!”
He clasps my face between his hands, his eyes searing into mine. “Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he says above the growing noise.
I grin. “Technically, the clock hasn’t struck mid?—”
He lowers his head and claims my mouth. Everything inside me rejoices at the rightness of this moment. The rightness of this man.
Our lips are still locked when the first burst of fireworks explodes across the sky and celebratory cheers erupt from the crowd.
I smile into my Prince Charming’s eyes and whisper, “Happy New Year.”
His smile is tender. “The best is yet to come.”
