Page 122 of The Candlemaker

“Interesting,”I murmured and pressed my lips to her forehead, wishing I could carry her upstairs right now and finally get her alone, but I wouldn’t.

“Thank you for everything, Lou. You, too, Max.” I smiled at my sister-in-law and her cousin, who’d supplied all of the flowers for the celebration. “This is incredible.”

Today—our wedding was the soft opening for the Lamplight Inn. Lou had spent two weeks of sleepless nights and endless preparation to open its doors for tonight and welcome friends and family for our wedding celebration, and when the weekend was over, it would be the public’s turn.

“Of course.” Lou smiled back.

“Anything for family,” Max added, and then tipped his head to Lou. “You’ve got a good setup here. I really think you should add wedding services to your business plan.”

Lou blushed. “Let’s just get it open to the public first and see where it goes.”

“Speaking of opening day. How many arrangements did you say you needed?” Max was supplying fresh flowers for the lobby on Monday.

“I’ll show you.” Lou hooked her arm in his and led him away, leaving Frankie and me alone in the sea of people.

And I wasn’t going to waste a second of it. I pressed my mouth back to hers, my tongue sliding along the seam of her lips that instantly melted open for me. The preparation…the ceremony…the whole day had flown by, and having to share her with other people for most of it wasn’t something that I was used to anymore.

“Chandler…” She sighed and pulled back, catching her breath in small bursts. “We can’t.”

“It’s our wedding. We can do whatever we want,” I said, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her to my front.

“No, we can’t,” she murmured, her face glowing.

I lowered my head and rasped next to her ear, “I never hear you complaining when I do whatever I want to you.”

She shivered and reached for my hand. “You’re right. I’m convinced,” she said, pulling me toward the hall. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Are you sure? You’re supposed to be the resilient one.”

“I don’t want to wait.” Her head tipped up, her eyes smoldering. “You’re my husband, and I want you now.”

Fuck.Well, there was no staying now—not without every wedding guest getting a front row show to how fucking hard I was for my wife.

She took my hand and started to lead me toward the stairs.

“Francesca!” Gigi called, her swash of freshly dyed red hair appearing in front of us.

I stepped behind Frankie, using her and our baby as a shield for my arousal.

“Where are you two off to?”

My and Frankie’s eyes collided, and then she had an answer.She always had an answer.

Frankie leaned forward and said in a loud whisper, “We’re making sure there are no ghosts left upstairs.”That was my wife.“Don’t tell anyone. We don’t want them to worry.”

Gigi’s eyes went round, and then a slow smile spread across her face. “Your secret is safe with me.”

I caught the old woman wink before Frankie pulled me upthe stairs. We made it to the first landing before Gigi’s voice rang out once more.

“Oh, Francesca!”

I bit back a groan and watched Frankie look back.

“That reminds me. I have your sleeping bag.”

My and Frankie’s eyes crashed together.Gigi had been the one to take Frankie’s sleeping bag that first day?By the time we looked back, Gigi’s bright red perm was bobbing through the crowd.

“The whole time…”

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