Anna pressed a few kisses to Brooke’s cheek before wiggling off her to go retrieve her pizza from the floor.“You look ridiculously hot by the way,” she said, lifting her eyebrows suggestively.“You know how I feel about you in that tux. That’s why it took me so long to read your sign.”
A pleasant blush crept up Brooke’s neck. She could feel the tips of her ears go pink.“My team of advisors strongly encouraged the choice for that very reason.”
“They’re wise, your queer council,” Anna said, in a voice that was an uncanny impersonation of Cate Blanchett. She plopped down on the couch next to Brooke and tangled their legs together.“Pizza?” She offered, her smile mischievous, daring, clearly trying to see if Brooke would deign to eat floor pizza.
It was a big day, and Brooke had been too nervous to eat earlier. She surprised them both by taking a slice.“I’ve never eaten pizza while wearing a tux before.”
“I’d bet a hundred dollars you’ve never eaten pizza off the floor before either,” Anna teased, bumping Brooke with her shoulder.
Brooke grinned.“Never eaten pizza with my girlfriend whom I live with before either.” She took her first bite, and found that it was the best slice of pizza she’d ever eaten.
Chapter Three
Brooke couldn’t believe she had woken up in Paris. It had been a long time since she’d visited the city of love, and it was the first time she’d ever been to Paris with the woman she was in love with. This trip had all been Anna’s idea, and Anna’s treat, too. She had insisted.
For their second anniversary, Anna wanted to take Brooke on a trip. They’d been on a few long weekend trips all throughout the States over the past two years, but they hadn’t done anything as extravagant as their first trip had been, and Anna had insisted it was high time they had another week-long adventure overseas.
It made sense, then, that Anna would pick somewhere that was important to her. While she hadn’t grown up in France, Anna’s mother, whom Brooke absolutely adored, had. And Anna’s mother had listed out all of the places she thought they needed to see. Marie-Claire Fourchette had been born and raised in France and hadn’t left until she was in her mid-twenties. She had immigrated for love, blindly following Anna’s father back to his home country. Apparently, they hadn’t lasted together for all that long in the States, and if not for Anna and then their car wreck, Marie-Claire had fully intended to return to France.
As it was, she had armed them with not only a list of places they needed to visit, but another, only slightly shorter list of people they needed to see.
They had arrived late the night before, jet lagged and exhausted, and had promptly found their way to their hotel, showered, and fallen asleep.
Brooke finally blinked open her eyes to the softness of the morning. The sun had already started to rise and was gently illuminating the edges of their hotel room. Anna had chosen well. Brooke had insisted that they didn’t have to do anything fancy, but Anna said two years together was worth celebrating. As Brooke finally took in the room, it became more apparent that Anna had meant it.
“Good morning, Honey,” Anna said, her voice soft and comforting.
When they first started dating, Brooke hadn’t expected Anna to wake before her so often given Anna’s sometimes late hours at her restaurant. But more often than not, she’d be awake and reading by the time Brooke woke up. This morning, it seemed, was no different.
Another thing Brooke hadn’t expected was to still love snuggling as much as she had in the beginning, two years in. She was nestled tightly into Anna’s side, all but clinging to her, her face buried in the soft side of Anna’s barely covered breast.
Not long after they started dating, Anna had taken to sleeping in these delightfully thin strapped tank tops that barely left anything to the imagination. Brooke could probably write poetry about them.
“Good morning,” she finally returned, looking up at her girlfriend, her breath still catching at the sight. Anna’s dark hair was longer now, down to her shoulder blades and mussed from sleeping on it while it was still damp. The smile lines around the edges of Anna’s dark brown eyes deepened in response to Brooke’s muffled greeting.
Brooke was so, so, incredibly lucky.“We’re in Paris,” she said, her voice still sleepy, but obviously happy.
“We are,” Anna mused. She slipped her bookmark into place and set the book down on the bedside table. She wiggled down so that she was low enough to pull Brooke into a passionate good morning kiss.
It was a kiss that quickly morphed into something more as Anna stealthily rolled herself on top of Brooke. Anna pulled back to kiss along the edge of Brooke’s jaw and follow the curve of her neck.
“What time is it?” Brooke rasped.
Anna stopped sucking on Brooke’s pulse point for just long enough to murmur,“no clue.”
Brooke nodded, careful to not head-butt her girlfriend in the process.“Do we have a timed event lined up for today?” She had let Anna plan their entire itinerary. Her friends had teased her for weeks about it. Not that anyone thought that Anna would do a bad job in trip preparation, everyone in their lives had more faith in Anna than that. But, to put it lightly, Brooke was a tiny bit of a control freak, and for her to happily let Anna plan an entire trip meant something. Something serious.
The kind of serious that Brooke had a plan for when they got home. She’d asked her friends about planning something for this trip, but they had all encouraged her to wait. To let Anna take the lead for their anniversary, and then do it when they got home.
Christine had even gently pointed out that if Brooke took the ring she had already purchased, it would just be a source of stress for her for the entire trip. She’d be worried that she’d lost it, or that her luggage wouldn’t arrive. She’d have to be sneaky with it around the hotel room. She’d have to magically know when the perfect moment was going to be because she hadn’t been the one to plan anything. Christine’s point had been valid, it would be better to just wait for when they arrived back home.
“Not until this evening,” Anna said, pulling Brooke from her thoughts about the ring she had waiting for Anna when they got home.
Brooke nodded.“Perfect,” she gasped as Anna tongue licked back up the length of her throat.
“Can we fuck in Paris now?” Anna asked, her grin far sweeter than her words.
“Yeah. Yep. Absolutely.” Brooke flipped them over with practiced ease. Though the sudden movement coaxed the most adorable squeak out of Anna.
