Page 36 of Wild Ever After
“Just after ten.”
“Oh my gosh. Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” he says slowly. “I think we have a couple of hours until checkout.”
In a panic, I set the coffee down, without taking a drink, and rush to my overnight bag by the door. “We need to be at the airport like now.”
“The airport?”
I shove my dress and panties in the bag, then pull out clean clothes. “Our flight leaves in an hour.”
“Our flight?”
Why does he keep repeating me?
“Yes.” I drop the sheet and his gaze sweeps over my naked body. “We need to get to the airport to catch a flight to our honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon.” This time when he repeats me, it clicks in place. Add the honeymoon plans to the embarrassingly long list of details I did not run by my groom.
“Oh shit. I didn’t tell you.” I’m still naked, and his eyes seem to be locked in on my boobs. I pull on a tank top and he blinks then finally looks up at my face.
“It’s in St. Lucia. Six days, all-inclusive. The magazine is paying for it.” I don’t know why I add in that last part. I guess so he understands that not going is giving up a vacation I could never afford on my own. Not to mention, Melody is expecting me to write about the experience and take photos of the two of us on the beach, looking happy and in love.
His mouth pulls down at the corners. “I have contractors coming to the house all week.”
“Right. I understand.”
“I can drop you off at the airport.”
I can only nod. “Sure.”
I spin around and finish getting ready. After all he’s done to help me out, I shouldn’t feel disappointed that he is holding back on this one small thing, but I still do. The honeymoon was all me. Yes, the magazine approved it, but I’ve been dreaming of finally seeing the ocean for months. Longer, really. And I guess the vulnerable truth is, I don’t want to go alone. I want to be with someone else when I walk into the water for the first time.
We rush to pack all our things and then head down to Declan’s car. It’s a shiny, black Ferrari, and when he starts the engine, it hums with power that reminds me of his strong, sculpted body.
I cannot think about sex with him right now. I will do that alone in St. Lucia, with an endless supply of pina coladas.
He pulls up to the curb at the American Airlines departure sign. “Do you have everything?”
“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for the ride.”
“Of course.” He hops out and helps me with my suitcase. “When do you get back?”
“Friday.”
“Text me your flight info and I’ll pick you up.”
“Sure.” We pause awkwardly, and then I lift a hand in a wave and start for the check-in line.
Some of my disappointment eases after I’m through security with ten minutes to spare. I go to the bathroom and wash my face, then stop by a store near my gate for water and Twizzlers. I even decide to splurge and get one of those neck pillows.
I’m in the last boarding group, so I take my time walking back to the gate and avoiding the mass of people anxious to get on the plane. I open my candy and tear off a string of red licorice.
They call the final boarding group, and I step forward and hold my phone over the device to scan my ticket.
“Thanks.” I take one step into the tunnel that leads to the plane and then hear my name.
I glance over my shoulder in time to see Declan jogging toward me with his bag slung over one shoulder. I move back next to the lady at the podium as she stops him.
