Page 88 of The Billionaire's Runaway Bride

“Just make sure I have my car ready to go!”

I assumed she’d see to it, and she had. Over there, her pink dress blowing in the breeze, is the helpful bridesmaid. “Caleb!” She waves both arms from the open driver’s door of my car.

“Go, man. Go!” Dalton hollers as I run, still carrying Lauren over my shoulder.

“Aubrey?” Lauren asks.

I reach the bridesmaid, Aubrey, apparently, and crouch at my knees to sling my girl upright. She wobbles, dizzy and blinking fast.

“Whoa.” She clutches my hands and steadies herself, pressing her hand to her head.

“Did she say I do?” Aubrey asks frantically, scurrying over to the passenger side as quickly as she can in heels.

“I didn’t!” Lauren mumbles it, as though she’s reconnecting with reality. Then louder, with pride, she grips the front of my shirt. “I didn’t!”

I step closer and hold her face in my hands for a moment. I need this. I’ve got to stand here and soak in her presence to convince myself we’re back together. That she’s smiling up at me and that we have a chance to work on our future.

“Are you all right?” I ask. My voice is low. It’s more of a whisper, but she hears me. She nods. Her smile widens, giddy and free.

“Now I am.”

I exhale a harsh breath of relief. Hearing her say it makes it real. I groan and pull her face toward mine. Crashing my lips to hers, I growl and commit the feel of her sweet, soft lips to memory. I won’t have to comb for memories to cling to. I can have her. We can have whatever we want, and knowing our days will be spent together, I savor the love she offers me when she mewls and kisses me harder. She grips my tie, keeping me close, and only when I fear she’ll be near fainting for the lack of air again do I part and rear back.

It’s not enough for her though. Tugging on my tie, she hauls me back and kisses me with so much passion I feel like I’ll combust.

“Okay. O…kay,” Aubrey says behind us. “That dude over there is losing his fight with security. So, uh, Lauren. Maybe get away, then suck on his face.”

I smile and continue to kiss Lauren like my life depends on it.

“Caleb! Get her out of here!” Dalton yells.

I growl, then release her. “I told you I’d be here if you ever needed me,” I whisper against her lips.

She leans back, and I wipe her cheeks to clear away her tears.

“Like now, girl. Now.” Aubrey shoves both of us toward my car.

Between the two of us, we help Lauren slide onto the seat, but it’s more like a riddle of squashing a square into a round hole. She fits. But this dress. Aubrey grunts and curses, grabbing fistfuls of the fabric to cram it inside the car. I wrap up bunches and shove it in near her legs.

“I swear. It should not be this hard to get a stupid dress”—Aubrey growls and shoves—“into a car.”

“Back up,” I advise.

She does, and I shut the door. It resists, like trying to close a box lid on too much bubble wrap.

“Here.” Lauren reaches for the door, the window all the way down, and wrenches it closed.

Tufts of fabric hang out from the door crack. Aubrey and I both heave in deep breaths from that exertion.

“There.” Aubrey dusts off her hands and I grin at her before I sprint around the car and get in the driver’s door.

“I’ll call you,” Aubrey says.

Lauren nods, holding on to the armrest as I speed away.

Before I can get to the main road, Lauren reacts. She tugs and pulls, trying to rip the lacy sleeves off. “Shoulder pads!” she grouses, whining and grunting as she tries to claw the dress off. “Freaking miles of lace and shoulder pads. I’m suffocating in this thing.”

I smile and grab her thigh, or at least where her thigh would be if it wasn’t buried in that hideous pile of fabric.

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