Page 119 of Sliding Into Love
Ivy leaned her head back and scowled in mock affront.
“Are you saying after four hours, youdon’tlike being married?”
“I amsaying,” Ethan tapped the tip of her nose, “four hours isn't long.”
“So now you’re saying once we’ve been married longer you won’t like it?” Her hazel eyes sparkled at him in mischief.
“What I am saying, Ivy Johnson-Fisher,” he made sure to growl her new name at her, “is you are stuck with me for the next…forever.”
“Forever, huh?” Ivy squeezed his arm tighter.
“Forever,” Ethan agreed. He made to slide a finger beneath the hem of her dress, but she swatted his hand away and tugged the dress lower.
“Ethan Cable Fucking Fisher. We are in public.” Her eyes twinkled up at him, reflecting the streetlights shining through the window.
“Technically, Ivy Johnson-Fisher,” he said, leaning down to kiss the soft spot beneath her ear, “we’re in a car.”
“And there is another person in this car!” Ethan couldn't tell if her hiss was from his words or the scrape of his teeth over her pulse point.
“He’s driving,” Ethan offered, sliding his fingers over her arm and watching the goosebumps form in their wake.
“Yes, and what happens when he looks in the rearview mirror and sees…everything?” Ivy’s back arched despite her words.
“That is an excellent point. No one else will be seeing…everything…but me.” Ethan couldn't quite help the hint of a possessive growl creeping into his voice.
Rolling her eyes, Ivy threaded their fingers together tightly enough to keep his hands from wandering more.
After a few more minutes, and despite her earlier words about privacy or propriety, or whatever she was calling it, Ivy slid even closer to him and began pressing open-mouthed, almost biting kisses up the side of his neck before nipping at his earlobe. Ethan shifted in his seat, to get away or give her better access, he wasn't sure.
But when he cupped her cheek to kiss her back, she wriggled out of his grip and tapped two fingers on his lips.
“Nope. Save it, Baseball Boy.”
“Baseball Boy?”
“New nickname,” Ivy said. “Like it?”
“I hate it. I’m retiring, remember?”
“Yeah, but until that’s official…Baseball Boy.” Her smile sent warmth shooting through him, and he couldn't help wrapping his arms around her and tucking her head beneath his chin after pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Sleep took Ivy quickly once she finally let her body still against his, and Ethan lost himself in marveling over the new life he had.
A year ago, during the depths of his training with Marshall, if anyone had told him he’d find love, reunite with his family, and find a family of his own, he would have laughed in their face.
A soft sigh escaped Ivy’s lips as he stroked her back, and Ethan thought of the first time he saw her, with her sun-kissed smile. The first interaction with her, imagining her in his shirt, which happened regularly since Ivy had laid claim to the entirety of his closet, but Ethan couldn't complain. Not when seeing the length of her bare legs inhisshirts still sent electricity coursing through his veins even after months of experiencing it.
But it was not her loveliness, all golden and gleaming soft skin, and the scent of her, all vanilla and sunshine.
No, it was her presence, soothing, a balm for a part of himself that had always been cold and lonely and miserable. Being there for her, for her kids,theirkids, had pieced him back together, filling in the shards of his shattered soul and then some.
For now, though, it was just the two of them on their honeymoon. Which, naturally, Ivy started by falling asleep on his arm.
When the car finally rolled to a stop outside their hotel, Ivy opened her eyes sleepily and stretched sinuously, arching her back to its full extent. Reaching over him to open the door, Ivy slid her body across his, pretending not to notice as she shook her ass right in his face. Of its own volition, or so he’d swear, Ethan’s hand deftly swooped beneath the hem of her dress to squeeze the soft curve there, humming in pleasure to find it nearly uncovered, save for a tiny scrap of lace that felt more like decoration than functional underwear. A gasp left her throat, and she wriggled under his hand before sliding the rest of the way out of the car. And then he heard another gasp, this one in shock.
“Ethan?”
Slowly, he unfolded himself from the depths of the car, cracking his neck once he reached his full height.
