Page 60 of Yours, Now and Always
“You okay?” he asks slowly. His careful tone says he already knows that’s a triggering question.
“I need to try on my dress.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.” I’m already yanking open the closet. “Before I eat. I need to know if it fits or whether I need to quit eating, lie on the floor in Spanx, and pray.”
“You’re not quitting eating.” He moves off the bed and comes toward me. The teasing in his eyes is gone—his gaze is all concern now. “You could wear a sack as far as I’m concerned.”
I snap my eyes to him. “Only a man would think that’s an acceptable outfit for a bride.”
“I’m not marrying your dress, Amelia.”
When he tries to take the dress out of my hands, I swat him away. “This is all your fault.”
His brows rise. “My fault?”
“Yes.”
He hums, completely unbothered. “Naturally.”
“You let me ask Tim to be a bridesmaid. And now my entire day is cursed.”
“Right. That makes sense,” he deadpans.
I narrow my eyes. “If you’re not careful, I won’t walk down that aisle today.”
He steps in close, hooks an arm around my waist, and brushes his mouth over mine. “Say the word, Princess, and I’ll cancel the whole thing. We’ll spend the day in bed instead.”
My uterus might be rebelling, but the rest of me is apparently still hot for him. I scowl at the way my body betrays me. “I don’t think you’re catching on. I got my period. There’s no sex in sight for you.”
His arm tightens around me. His voice softens. “I got that.”
And just like that, he says the exact right thing, and I’m not cranky anymore. Until I realize what this means.
There’s no sex.
No wedding night sex.
No honeymoon sex.
No anywhere-sex unless I suddenly decide I’m cool with Gage fucking me while I’m bleeding. Spoiler: I’m not.
I groan and press my face into his chest. “This is a disaster.”
He laughs quietly. “A disaster?”
“Yes. Do you know what happens on a honeymoon?”
He drags his hand down my back. “A lot of things.”
“Yeah, well, none of them include me naked and orgasming now.”
“So we’ll do other things. I’ll feed you an exorbitant amount of carbs.”
He’s too calm. I hate that he’s this calm.
I lean back to glare at him. “You’re not allowed to be chill about this.”
