Page 223 of One Big Little Secret

“We should go tell your family the news,” she says.

“Maybe,” I admit, tugging her back to the house. “But there’s something else I’d rather do more.”

“Patton! What if someone’s watching, they’re probably waiting for—”

“Let them. I want to fuck you, Salem. I want to see that ring on your finger when you grab my cock. I want to feel it on my skin when you’re wrapped around me, begging for dear life.” I bring her in closer so I can rumble the last part in her ear. “And I want to feel it against my fingers when I’m pinning you down, telling you to come for me. Can you do that for me? Can you wear that pretty ring while I mark you tonight?”

Her lips quiver and she nods slowly, too lost for words.

“Later, yes. But we really shouldn’t keep them waiting…”

Smiling, I take her hand, already loving how right that little piece of gold feels on her hand.

It’s only right to give her fair warning about what she’s gotten herself into.

Judging by the shy excitement in her red cheeks, she doesn’t mind at all.

27

STROKE OF LUCK (SALEM)

Months Later

Istand in my wedding dress, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

Behind me, Delly looks on, her eyes warm and her hands clasped in front of her. She’s totally bursting at the seams, but she lets me soak in this moment.

Andwhat a moment. This dress is everything.

The corset bodice is decorated with diamond-embedded lace, curving around my breasts, equally elegant and enticing. It flares into my waist and over my hips, where the skirt flows in opulent waves to the floor.

Today, I feel like a princess. Amazingly, I look the part, too.

The seamstress even embroidered our initials inside the fabric off to the side, masked by a piece of lace. My little secret. I run my fingers over the letters, tracing them and remembering everything that’s happened to bring me here.

Patton’s ring flashes on my finger.

I had a matching necklace commissioned as my ‘something blue,’ and it sits in the hollow of my throat. My clavicle stands in sharp relief as I take a deep breath. Honestly, it’s perfect when there’s a lot of blue in this wedding.

But holy hell, is it happening for real? In less than anhour?

“Is it the heat, dear? You look flushed,” Delly says.

“No, I’ve just been pinching myself about fifty times since I woke up,” I tell her with a laugh.

A photographer in the background snaps a not-so-discreet candid shot. I try to remember her advice to forget she’s there. We’ll want these shots for memories later.

Delly giggles and finally releases her hands. She’s wearing a sapphire-blue dress that matches the necklace, regal as ever as mother of the groom.

Patton.

My soon-to-be husband.

He’s had three whole months to change his mind, but if anything, he’s just been pushing for everything to happen at breakneck speed. There was barely time to book the wedding venue and set up all the moving pieces. Without Delly pulling some strings and calling in favors, I’m not sure if we could’ve pulled it off.

I can’t say I blame him for the urgency.

For us tobe a familyfaster.

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