Page 44 of One Night Bride
“What date?”
He slapped me on the ass, nearly knocking me off my stilettos, and then chuckled when I turned my devil eyes on him for the manhandling. His denim-clad backside hustled to the door, his head the only body part still in the room as he looked back at me.
“The one we’re having tonight as soon as you get dressed. Meet me downstairs, honeypoo.”
He shut the door, his lazy drawl having put a genuine smile on my face. How quickly I was getting addicted to having him to look forward to after a long day. Endless coaching calls and social media content wasn’t so dreary when I knew Remington would be there to talk to, laugh with, and warm my bed.
I took off my work clothes and slid into the sundress, remembering I couldn’t wear a bra with the tiny straps. With a devious grin, I stepped out of my panties too. Both of us could plan a surprise tonight. Deciding barefoot would do just fine since he made it sound like we were staying home and he hadn’t put any shoes out for me to wear. I brushed my hair and touched up my makeup before heading downstairs.
The summer sun was still bright, casting beams of light into the house where it streamed through the windows. I followed the wisps of soft music I heard, finding my way out to the front patio. I stood in the doorway and took it all in. He’d strung white lights across the entire space, while placing a small circular table in the middle of the deck. It held place settings, a vase with red roses, and a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. Of course, the backdrop of the Pacific Ocean stretching out in all directions was what dreams were made of.
“What is all this?” I whispered out loud.
Remington stepped into view from the side of the patio, a single red rose in his hand extended toward me.
“How I should have treated you that first night.” His eyes practically smoldered, and I felt myself get lost in them. He just had that effect on me. Had ever since that first night.
“Thank you.” I took the rose and buried my nose in it, letting my eyes slide shut and enjoy the moment. “You ever wonder how you got so lucky to have all the things you want in life?” The words slipped out the same time the thought moved across my brain. The realization that at twenty-four I could have all this and it wasn’t a dream made my brain short-circuit.
Remington’s rough hands gently grabbed my arms and my eyes fluttered open to find him staring at me. “Every single day for the last few weeks.”
“Remy,” I whispered, swaying into his chest.
His lips landed on mine, the kiss as sweet as his words. He pulled back sooner than I wanted, tugging me toward the table and pulling out a chair for me. I sat, and he scooted me in, pulling the cloth napkin off the table and onto my lap with a flourish. I clapped, and he grabbed the wine.
“We have a fine vintage this evening, pairing perfectly with your main course.” Remington got the cork out and poured a tiny sip in my glass, waiting for me to give it a taste.
“Tastes wonderful,” I murmured, not even caring about the wine, but wanting to play his game if it kept that twinkle in his eyes. “What’s for dinner?”
He poured the rest of my glass and his before setting the bottle down. “Can I tell you a secret?” he said as he leaned down, his arm resting on the back of my chair.
“I love secrets.”
His finger skated across my bottom lip. “I cheated.”
When he didn’t explain further, I frowned.
“What—”
“I asked your mom for help and she made the whole dang meal,” he finally finished in a rush.
I burst out laughing. “That’s your secret?”
He straightened and shrugged. “I called your mom to find out your favorite foods for tonight’s dinner, and I confessed to only knowing how to make a mean pot of chili. She kind of just took over from there, and I didn’t want to refuse her help. Before I knew it, she was meeting me at the bottom of the driveway with a five-course meal with the stealth of a drug dealer.”
I laughed some more, imagining Remington being in cahoots with my mom, the lovely bulldozer that she was. “I think you made the right choice. Best to let Mom cook and stay out of the way.”
Remington swooped down to kiss my forehead. “Let me get the first course.”
As he rushed back into the house, I took a sip of my wine and looked out at the ocean. Guess I got caught up in my work today. I hadn’t even noticed Remington moving about the place, setting this all up. I was a focused person. My sisters always teased me about it, saying I leaned into my work a bit too much, but I took it all in stride. I built a million-dollar business and bought this house right on the water. My focus worked for me.
Then I thought about Remington and the man he was. How much he wanted to be with me, and yet I kept pushing him away. Maybe all that focus and being a workaholic had a dark side too. Maybe Remington was my change agent, and I was ready for a paradigm shift.
“Here we go. First course of a beet salad with arugula, candied pecans, and a crumbled goat cheese.” Remington returned, setting two plates down on the table and rescuing a basket of bread from under his arm where it was about to tumble to the deck. He sat down across from me. “Your mom said something about Janey’s poor goats, but I don’t know who Janey is.”
I bit my lip. Mom was a softy when it came to animals. She preferred to think her meat and dairy products came from the grocery store, not an actual animal that had to sacrifice their life for her consumption. Don’t get me wrong, she still ate meat, she just didn’t want to think about it too hard. Pretty sure my Wyoming rancher boyfriend/husband wouldn’t understand that type of thinking.
I took a bite of the warm bread and eyed him across the table. A caw hit my ears a split second before a blur of white wings swooped across my vision. I screamed and lurched back, my chair tipping precariously.
