Page 227 of One Big Little Secret

My skin flares with heat from head to toe.

“Well, okay. Permission granted.”

“More reason to celebrate.” His next kiss comes slow and deep and that heat rising in my core becomes an inferno. I can’t resist running my hands through his styled hair, mussing it up, loving his noise of annoyance that becomes a groan when I niphis bottom lip. “No whining. Do you know how long it took me to get ready this morning?”

“Long enough to enjoy ruining you.” And that cocky grin on his face tells me that’s a promise.

“Maybe.” I lean back and assess his face. “But you have lipstick on your mouth.”

“Lick it off,” he growls.

Dear God.

For a second, I’m actually a little tempted to tell everyone else to head downstairs for the reception and start the party without us while the boat cruises down the river, but I lean back, both hands flat against his chest.

“Not fair. Our people just want to celebrate with us. Don’t we owe them that? Besides, the cake’s supposed to be crazy. Junie and her gram worked on it all day.”

“The cake, the cake…” His nostrils flare with frustration, but there’s a half smile playing across his lips. “Fine. But we’re leaving early.”

“Ifyou behave yourself.” I drag my hands down his washboard abs toward his pants and the definite bulge there. “We’ll deal with this later. And if you’re really a good boy”—I lean in, delighting when he grabs my hand and moves my fingers against his cock—“I’m going to take my sweet time.”

“Kill me fucking now,” he rasps, but there’s humor in his voice, and he releases me. “Do you want this marriage to end before midnight? Woman, I’ll be dead.”

“Be strong. A little patience, that’s a wonderful wedding present.”

He mutters something gruff and crude under his breath I can’t make out, but I’m definitely snickering.

This man.

His mouth grazes my ear as he links hands and we head back to rejoin the party.

“You’re damn lucky I owe you the world, Salem Rory. I’m going to spend the rest of my life carving it up for you on a silver platter.” He watches me nod, satisfied, and he gives me another one of his patented smug smiles. “Now, how about that celebration?”

The restof the day blurs by in the sweetest fever dream.

That’s what no one tells you about weddings, I guess. Time comes unglued and you spend all day riding such a high that you’ll be lucky to remember much later on.

I think I’m starting to understand why those photos are so important.

After the dinner and a heartfelt speech by my husband, thanking everyone for being here to welcome the next chapter of our lives, I tell everyone about how much he’s changed my life—the good and bad, but mostly the good—and then the music starts pulsing.

The riverboat transforms into a floating party bus, way fancier than anything I ever dared to imagine on my wedding day.

I dive right into the fun, ignoring how constraining this dress feels for dancing with Patton. I’m seriously grateful for the three dancing lessons Delly offered at her expense. I know Arlo loved them too.

He shows off his moves, yelling at me to watch him as he does the moonwalk, the bust down, and his own wild breakdancing in between. I’m glad when Colt charges in with moves of his own, distracting Arlo long enough so I can enjoy my time on the floor with Patton.

And as I stare into my husband’s smoky-blue eyes, I thank the lucky stars we found each other.

Miracle of miracles, we found each otheragain.

We also spend forever thanking our guests, together and separately. We drink champagne and laugh, surrounded by glitter and good company.

It makes this day impossibly bright and too perfect for life.

Just when I feel like my cup couldn’t be any fuller, the boat docks back at the marina to let the crowd off and then embarks again with just us and a skeleton crew.

The engines rumble under us as they take us down the Missouri River. Patton and I lean over the railing, just like I did one fateful evening so many years ago.

---