Page 53 of Perfectly Wedded

I want that person to be me, but I can’t force her into choosing me. Even though I plan on being as convincing as possible, I have to let her make the final decision. If I push too hard, I might push her away forever. “We said we were going to do this trip the right way. That we’d have fun together and go on dates. Just because Brax and Jaz are here doesn’t change things.”

“It changes how we act.”

But is it an act? Not with me. “I still want us to have a honeymoon we’ll never forget.”

She looks up at me with her wide eyes, and something in my heart flips.

“Whatever it takes, right?” she murmurs.

Every time she looks at me that way, I feel even more strongly that I can’t end this marriage. It kills me to even think about giving her up.

Which is why I won’t. I can’t. “Whatever it takes,” I repeat softly.

She lifts her eyebrows. “So you’ll let me off easy? Not embarrass me with our marriage rules?”

“I didn’t say that,” I tell her, shaking my head. “I’m still planning on following every rule to a tee.”

Sloan scoots away from me to the other side of the couch, putting more space between us, more road blocks to kick down.

“But I’m also going to make sure that you’re relaxed and comfortable. Starting now.” I pat the space next to me. “Scoot over, wife. You need a shoulder massage.”

“What?” she asks, pulling her knees up on the couch. “I’m fine.”

“Sloan. Your shoulders are so tense, they’re almost to your earlobes. Doctor’s order.”

“You’re not a doctor.”

“No, but I am your husband.” I grab her waist and slide her closer.

“You’re forcing me to get a shoulder rub?” she says.

I spin my finger in a circle. “Turn around so your back is toward me.”

She sighs. “If you say so, cabana boy.”

I grin. “You like calling me that a little too much.” She’s still in her swimsuit, her teal sundress over top. Her shoulders are mostly bare, her upper back fully exposed for a shoulder rub. I brush her hair over to one side and admire the soft lines of her back, the freckle on one shoulder blade, the way her skin feels like silk. I gently place my hands on her shoulders and start kneading my thumbs into her muscles.

At first, she tenses, but the more I work her muscles, the more she melts in my hands. And the fact she doesn’t have to look at me seems to make things easier. Like how it was at home, before we were married, when things were simple for us.

“That feels...gooooood.” Even though I can’t see her face, I’m pretty sure her eyes are closed. “You know, you could have a second career as a cabana boy.”

“Glad to know I have a job prospect when I retire from hockey,” I say with a laugh. I glide my fingers down her spine. Touching her is a pleasure.

“You make a pretty decent husband,” she admits. “Most of the time.”

“I don’t aim for pretty decent, Sloan. I want to bebest ever.”I find another tense spot and slowly knead it. A little moan escapes her lips.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Did you just moan?” I half laugh. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard her make that sound before.

Her body stiffens. “No, I do that all the time! I moan about everything.”

My hands go still. “You made a sound like you were experiencing pure bliss.”

“Okay, fine, I did that. Happy now? Your magic hands made a weird sound come from my lips. How in the world did you learn to give massages like that?”

“I get a lot of sports massages,” I say, working the muscles between her shoulder blades.

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