Page 45 of Sweet Nothings

“Fuck, Laurel.”

She moans, closing her eyes again. I pull my fingers out and slowly back away. My erratic heart hasn’t slowed. I only want her more. But seeing her here, knowing what we just did, it’s like reality is settling into my bones. I just finger fucked my wife in my mother’s greenhouse.

My eyes fall to the flower in my pocket, the scent a mixture of Laurel and lavender.

Laurel hasn’t even been my wife for less than thirty minutes, and I’ve already given in. We acted like two teenagers sneaking off together, hoping not to get caught. I didn’t want to rush things with her. In honesty, I didn’t expect to be with her this way. I knew Laurel only agreed to marry me for reasons she still hasn’t shared, but the fact that I’ve just received confirmation she’s feeling the same as me scares me.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I’ve been naïve believing it was going to be simple when my feelings for Laurel have been anything but simple since the moment we met.

When I take another step back from Laurel, she pushes herself off the glass wall. Her skin is still flushed as shestraightens her wedding gown, adjusting and twisting the fabric around her hips. The slit along her thigh closes.

“We should get back out there for the reception,” I tell her. “We still need to get back to the city tonight.”

“Oh.” She snaps her head up. “We aren’t staying here tonight?”

I rub my fingers along my mouth and swipe my tongue across my lip, tasting whatever is left of Laurel on my skin. What feels like an anchor dropping to the bottom of the sea floor is my stomach lurching, and I bite down on my molars. “No, I told you before. We’ll be staying at my apartment in Boston from now on.”

Laurel’s gorgeous face relaxes as she studies me. I can see the thoughts working in her mind. She knows there’s a reason I don’t want to stay here. She still looks at me like I’m a puzzle needing to be solved.

“Okay,” she says quietly.

“Let’s go, Mrs. Harding.” I wrap her hand in mine and lift my other to trail my finger down the side of her warm cheek, resisting the urge to kiss her. “We don’t want to keep our guests waiting.”

FOURTEEN

I haven’t stopped staring at the ring on my finger. Although Lennon told me he was taking care of the rings, I didn’t think too much about what it would look like. In the back of my mind, I assumed it would be a simple gold band. Our marriage wasn’t born out of love, so I didn’t expect Lennon to put much effort in finding an elaborate ring. Especially one that looks like the one I have wrapped around my finger. In a way, it reminds me of my mother’s. Hers was destroyed in the accident, but if I close my eyes, I can picture it. Like hers, the emerald cut is large. At least four carats—probably more if I were to guess. The weight of it is the perfect symbolism for the way I’m feeling after telling Lennon ‘I do’.

I’m watching him from across the courtyard, pretending as if his constant stares aren’t burning a hole straight through me.

He hasn’t kissed me since we were standing at the altar. It’s a silly notion to be hung up on considering what we did in the greenhouse on the far side of the property. But I can’t help noticing the small detail. Reluctantly, I pick it apart, obsessing over it more than what would be considered normal.

I can still feel his long fingers inside me. The heat of his breath wafting against my skin. His deep voice vibrating as he orders me to lick his fingers, tasting what he did to me.

I guess he’s successfully delivered on the promise he made. I’ve been spending the entire night wishing I’d had more than just his fingers inside me.

I’m still eyeing him from across the courtyard, noticing the absence of the flower I’d slid into the front pocket of his midnight black suit before leaving the greenhouse. I stand beside the small cocktail table feeling conflicted. Lennon gave more to our kiss on the altar than I expected. He threaded his fingers in my hair and held me against his lips until I heard Roe gently clearing her throat, clearly telling me she wasn’t expecting it either.

I couldn’t help it. Walking down the aisle with his eyes trained on me, I’d allowed myself to fall down the rabbit hole. Lennon had given me my dream wedding, and having him stare at me with his striking blue eyes, signature black on black suit, I realized I was treading in waters I wasn’t expecting to.

By the time he’d slid the ring on my finger and placed his lips to mine, I was finished.

His kiss had done something inside me. It’s as if my soul had been caught in an unknown slumber, awakened only by Lennon’s kiss. Sounds like a fucking fairy tale. I’m the princess freed from an eternal sleep by a single kiss. Ridiculous.

I was relieved to know when he’d pulled me to the greenhouse and immediately put his hands on me that I wasn’t alone. He’d felt it, too. But now he’s back to the Lennon I’ve come to know. Before he became my husband. He hasn’t completely let his black heart take control tonight, however. Every now and then, he’ll walk over and place his hand on the small of my back while we make conversation with his family.

I guess that’s him fulfilling our agreement that we would act as husband and wife in public.

But the most difficult part about tonight were the pictures. Just like any other typical wedding, Lennon and I took newlywed photos. He didn’t hold back with his touches, but still, refused to kiss me, resorting to nuzzling my neck and brushing his lips against my cheek instead. By the time we were finished, I gave myself another pat on the back for deciding not to wear panties today. But I haven’t been able to make head nor tails of Lennon’s hot and cold nature with me.

Maybe he was afraid of losing control again. Maybe he doesn’t want me to feel like he can suddenly touch me whenever he wants simply because I’m now his wife, regardless of whether it’s transactional or not.

But all those possibilities haven’t stopped the unrelenting thoughts from clouding my brain. It’s maddening.

“How did you get this so dirty already?” Roe asks behind me.

I twist, looking down the train of silk. “Lennon showed me the rest of the grounds earlier.” I’m quick to answer. I didn’t think this lie through. Roe immediately catches on, but she doesn’t press me further. I’m just thankful she came in the first place, considering how she’s been feeling.

She arches an eyebrow, unconvinced. I ignore it.

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