Page 178 of Forever Then

Sometimes the choices we make in love, come with great risk. Will they love me back? Will it work? Will the obstacles ahead break us? Will I ever be worthy of this person?

The man in front of me—the man vowing to love me for better or worse, until death do us part—he chose me in the face of all those questions. And this day, we start a new family. The family we’ve chosen in each other.

“By the powers vested in me by the world wide web, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Drew declares, a wicked gleam in his expression, all too proud to call himself an ordained minister. “You may now kiss the bride.” He leans in. “No tongue, Vining. Nobody wants to see that.”

I roll my eyes, grab a fistful of Connor’s shirt and yank him closer. His hands cup my face and he wastes no time bringing his lips to mine with a smile.

Perhaps the kiss goes on for three or four seconds longer than a public kiss should, but that’s how it always is with him. Touches linger, electricity constantly sizzles beneath the surface, mouths taste and explore in case we don’t get another chance to do it again for a while.

Our wedding kiss is no different.

And there’s definitely some tongue.

Connor

Pack for four nights. That was all I gave Gretchen to go by. The rest is a surprise.

After the ceremony and a bunch of sunset family pictures on the beach, Gretchen and I loaded up and turned my dad’s Jeep pointed north.

As expected, the moment I bypass the bridge that would take us back to the mainland and continue northbound, my wife turns that knowing look on me.

My wife.

“Don’t look at me like that, Fish,” I warn.

She bats her lashes. “Like what?”

“Like that.” I sweep a hand over her face, but I can’t help but take all of her in. That white shimmery dress that looks like it was sewed on to her, the way it molds to her narrow hips, delicate shoulder straps so thin they’re barely there. And I can’t see it now, but the way it scoops low in the back, right above where I know the perfect little dimples rest above the curve of her backside, has me weak in the knees. Her hair is mussed and wind-blown, but it only makes her sexier. “It makes me want to pull this car over.”

“But you won’t,” she says.

“I won’t because I’m not taking my wife on our wedding night in the backseat of my dad’s Jeep.”

“Hmmm…or it’s because you’re trying to beat high tide.”

Of course this secret couldn’t keep.

I sigh. “That too.”

Gretchen bounces giddily in her seat, a playful shimmy popping her shoulders.

“How’d it feel to call me your wife, husband?”

“Mmm, say that again.” I come to a stop at a red light.

She leans across the console and whispers, “Husband.”

I grab her chin and pull her closer. “Wife.” Our lips meet and the collective sigh between us turns the kiss ravenous in an instant. I forget time and space as I tangle my hand in her hair. She moans, her hand finding my bare chest through the open collar of my shirt.

A horn blasts from behind us.

I mutter a curse and press my foot on the gas as we skitter apart.

It’s been hours since sunset by the time we make it to the end of the paved road.

“Temper your expectations, baby. It’s dark out. We probably won’t see any horses until tomorrow,” I say as we cross the cattle guard onto the long stretch of beach that will take us to our final destination.

When I reached out to Gene with my plans to take Gretchen to Carova for our honeymoon, I didn’t even have to ask. He all but threw the keys at me and said his house was our house for as many days as we wanted it.

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