Page 63 of The Spice Play

God, I wanted to kiss that fucking expression.

She blinked, and suddenly she was back, blushing and laughing and covering her mouth at thethoughtof it. “You’re crazy,” she giggled.

“You asked.”

————-

We’d made it through the speeches, the first dance, and dinner without a hitch. Neither of them had come up to speak to us no matter how much we touched each other, no matter how many times I fed her or vice versa, no matter how close we’d been on the dance floor the moment they’d finished theirs.

And that was a win in my book.

Now, though, as she leaned back onto my chest, her chair practically touching mine and her head on my shoulder, all I wanted to do was stay here as long as possible. I didn’t want the night to end, even if we were playing everything up for her benefit — especially when I was thoroughly enjoying seeing the joy she got out of showing me off in front of them.

I wanted this. I wanted her. And I’d missed her every goddamn second I hadn’t had her.

“I didn’t think I’d enjoy myself this much,” I chuckled,pressing a kiss on the top of her head before resting my chin on it. “Who thought such a shit wedding could be so fun?”

She giggled beneath me, her fingertips pushing into my palm and spreading mine open, slotting her fingers between my own. “I thought it would be the worst night of my life, if I’m being honest.”

“Really?” I teased. “But you seemed so happy to see Morris when I came through the doors.”

She tilted her head back, dragging my chin through her hair enough to glare up at me.

“I’m joking, obviously,” I added.

Her thumb brushed against the back of my hand, back and forth, back and forth. “Thank you,” she said, but the banter and happy lilt to her voice took a back seat for a moment. “Seriously.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” I squeezed her hand and moved the stray strands of hair off her neck with my free hand. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to come, to be honest. But I gave you my word, and I needed to keep it.”

Her breathing paused.

Everythingpaused.

I wasn’t sure what was happening, and before I could try to figure it out, she was moving, dislodging her hand from mine, and sitting up out of my embrace.

“Nell?”

“I…” Her jaw steeled as she looked at me, and what I thought had been a momentary pause in her overall happy demeanor seemed gone for good. Gone was the lingering smile, gone was the glint of happiness in her eyes, gone were heavy eyelids and the hint of need in the way her body moved.

“Nelly,” I said again, leaning toward her.

But she retreated from it.

What the fuck did I do?

Her gaze flicked over to Morris and Ruby, and then she was up, purse in hand, moving.

Moving away. Moving to the door.

She crossed the room with record speed, slipping out the doors before I found the wherewithal to actually get the fuck off my ass and follow. I did my best not to make a scene out of it before I slipped from the room in the hopes that neither of them was watching, but the moment I was out the door and the music from the reception room would dampen me, I called out to her. “Nelly!”

She was at least thirty feet ahead of me in the hall, too fast in her heels, and I wished for a split second that we were on ice and I had my skates — at least then, I could keep up and run laps around her.

She didn’t bother to look back as she turned the corner, nearly crashing into a man carrying a plate of hors d’oeuvres. She slipped around him, and I followed, and before I could reach her, she was out a side door, out in the night air, out on the empty, softly lit patio of the mansion.

And I had finally caught up.

I grabbed her by the wrist before she could go any further, pulling her toward me in one swift motion that was likely too rough, too brash. “Nelly, what?—”

---