Page 84 of Ace
“I hope so,” she answered demurely. “You asked me to marry you.”
“I did,” he agreed, his cheeks hurting from grinning. “Hey guys, we’re getting married!”
Chapter Forty-Two
It didn’t get any better than this. The rented moving van was filled, the dog crates packed and the single bag of kibble stored on board. The rest of Savannah’s dogs had been adopted out to loving families, or were down at Mr. Howard’s Pet Store. For a while there, it hadn’t seemed possible that everything would come together. But it had, and come sunup tomorrow morning, Savannah was headed north with her husband.
“My husband. Did you hear that?” she asked the Red Setter, to be known now and forever more as Prince Harry. Okay so it wasn’t Irish, but the handsome fellow deserved a royal title, especially since his drooling, slobbering buddy had been tagged Sir Galahad. “I’m a married woman and I have a handsome husband. Have you seen him lately?”
Prince Harry barked from his post inside the big truck’s cab. Like that told Savannah anything, otherthan he was making sure he wouldn’t get left behind. Poor baby still had anxiety attacks.
Keller had to be around here somewhere. Sanctuary was large, and Savannah was leaving most of her belongings behind. Lyle Goldenrod had bought the five acres of swampland, and he’d adopted all Savannah’s birds and cats. Said they made him feel like he was home again. Even now, he was fast at work with a team of high school football players, rebuilding the deck and the portion of her home that had been ruined in the explosion and fire. Coach looked happy. He had his life back.
Glancing to her left, then to her right, Savannah brushed her hands together before resting them on her hips. Where was that man? They had things to discuss. Keller wasn’t manning the table saw for Coach, and there was nothing left in the house worth packing or boxing, so he couldn’t be in there.
To keep things simple, he’d moved in with her at Sanctuary after a justice of the peace married them in New Orleans. His Deuces Wild team was with them that afternoon, and the evening celebration, unexpectedly sponsored by Mr. Chase, was one of a kind.
Unbeknownst to Keller, Tucker rented a private room at a restaurant off Bourbon Street, complete with a blues singer and all the food and alcohol you could want. Outlandish toasts, all at Keller’s expense, were offered. Savannah had never eaten or danced so much in her life. But the truly eye-popping moment happened when Keller swept Savannah onto the dance floor, tapdancing to“Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company B.”Holy Mother! Her Secret Agent Man could dance!
Mr. Chase had just declared there wasn’t enough alcohol in the entire world to get him on the floor. At the sight of Keller dancing with enthusiasm no one knew he had, Mr. Chase spit beer all over his table. Tate Higgins laughed so hard his eyes watered. Truly a night Savannah would never forget. She and Keller hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other since then. So yeah. He had to be close by.
Savannah circled her house, told her birds goodbye, and made sure they had clean water one last time. She walked the perimeter, a knot in her throat at the departure looming in the morning. But she’d be okay. Gran Mere always said when one door closes, a window opens.
With Prince Harry now trotting at her side, Savannah inspected her dog kennels and made sure the gates were closed in case a strong wind came up. The overhead lights in the barn were on. Interesting. She could’ve sworn she’d turned them off.
A noise from the supply room caught her ear. It better not be one of those pesky raccoon twins that had been hanging around, those adorable little bandits. It was hard to be angry with the cute little guys for upending her garbage cans, but they made such a mess.
Striding with full intent, she shoved the supply room door open and— “Oh,” squeaked out of her throat.
“Come on in,” Keller said, motioning to the blanket laid out in the middle of that small room. He sat there cross-legged, his jeans tight at his knees. His chest wasbare and an OD Army t-shirt had been tossed beside a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket. A plate of powdered sugared beignets rested in the center of the blanket. A plate of crispy brown bacon, too. Like a lure...
Savannah’s fingers came up to her lips at the sight. There was a hard, hard day not too long past that she’d lured Keller with an offer of bacon. He’d remembered, and he was luring her in now. Which made sense. After all, her dogs couldn’t refuse it. Why should she?
Savannah shooed faithful Prince Harry out of the supply room before he made himself comfortable, then closed the door and locked it. Smiling, she knelt on the blanket opposite Keller, the offering between them. He never looked more handsome. His amber eyes were soft and golden. His skin as tan and rich as ever. Keller was so much her heart’s fondest treasure. Her most sincere desire.
“I thought you might need a break,” he said. Deftly he tore the foil from the bottle and untwisted the wire cage, his biceps taut, his elbows out, and the veins on the backs of his hands on display. He had magic fingers. Just watching them work sent a rush of heat to her core. “You’ve been at this since the sun came up. You must be hungry. I know I am. Bacon?”
It was hard to speak. This incredible man had only ever offered sustenance and salvation. He was a warrior and her best friend. He already knew her body and her heart.
Fortunately, the cork blasted skyward, breaking the sexual tension. Savannah laughed at the smile in Keller’s wide eyes. But enough was enough. She didn’twant beignets or bacon. With champagne foaming out of the bottle, she forced him onto his back, licking up his neck to settle her real craving while he kept the bottle from spilling. This man’s body had quickly become her favorite addiction, not that she had many others. But she wanted this particular one now.
Keller eased down onto the blanket with a husky groan that lasted until she covered his mouth with hers. Breathing his breath. Tasting Keller. Part sugary coffee, part starched black tie and the whiskey he ended most days with. Now that they were married, she knew he suffered shades of post-traumatic stress. Nothing serious but enough that he’d never admit it. The single glass of whiskey just helped him sleep. She also knew that even when he was hurt, like when he’d smashed his thumb with the hammer while helping Coach build a sawhorse, he was more inclined to tell her he was ‘good’ when he most certainly was not. She’d married a badass. A tough man’s man who still had a lot of secrets to share. And she loved him more every day.
He still held one hand on the bottle, the other on her backside as she mugged him. Her tongue made love to his, her hands now on his chest, soaking in all those tantalizing alpha hormones through her fingerprints. Instant heat spiked when her fingertips grazed his nipples. Already hard as diamonds, her sensitive nipples turned needy against the inside of her tank top. These clothes had to go.
Reaching behind her back, she jerked her top off and sent it flying. That got his attention. “I love awoman who knows what she wants,” he mumbled around her lips.
“I want you,” she growled. “Lose the bottle and the pants. Food can wait.”
“But baby…”
“But baby, nothing.” She loved it when he called her baby. With other guys, it might have been a sleazy put down, but when Keller said it, all she heard was love. Her hand shifted from his chest to his zipper. “You want me to help you with this?”
She could feel him smiling through her French kisses. Easing his head back, he shoved the dripping bottle between them and into her chest. Between her breasts. It was c-c-cold. It was wet. His eyes turned more black than amber, the pupils wide, taking in the goosebumps on her skin.
“We should’ve had a drink first,” he growled. “Newlyweds, remember?”
The second she moved, he had her on her back, the bottle poised over her bare belly and mischief in his eyes. “Take your pants off. Quickly, Savannah. Chop, chop. Or else—”
