Page 80 of Bump and Run
I smiled to myself as I rushed to the bathroom, cleaned off the rest of my release, and then hurried back to the room.I dug out my charger, plugged it in, then climbed into bed, pulling the sheet up to my stomach.
“Charlie?”
“I’m here.” His voice was always so soothing.
I cradled the phone against my neck. “Tomorrow you’re mine. Mine forever and ever.”
“And you’re mine,” Charlie cooed into my ear.
Tomorrow, I would start the rest of my life with the man I never thought would come back to me. And this time, I wasn’t about to let him get away.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Charlie
I woke up early the day of my wedding, the sounds of Jones’s soft snoring in my ear. He might not have been with me, but this was close enough. We had the rest of our lives to wake tangled together like it was just the two of us left in the world. I smiled at the thought of what Jones was like first thing in the morning. His hair rumpled, hazel eyes blinking as he took in his surroundings. The shy smile that would slowly split his face.
“Charlie?” Jones’s sleepy voice brought me back to the moment. I heard him moving in the bed, the rustling of the blanket.
I grinned even though he couldn’t see me. “Good morning, Bashful.”
“Good morning.” I could tell he was smiling just by the cheerfulness that echoed through the speaker. “We’re getting married soon.”
I hummed. “Not just soon, Jonesy, in a couple of hours. We should probably get up and get ready for our big day.”
“Shoot!” he exclaimed and then I heard what sounded like him falling. “I’m fine,” Jones insisted, and the little giggle that he released did nothing to help my morning wood.
I pictured him wrapped up in the blankets, laughing with bright, shiny eyes. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“No, baby, I didn’t. But we should probably hang up now.”
“When I see you again, it will be so we can become husbands.”
Jones made soft noise of contentment. “Husbands.”
“Yeah, Bashful, husbands,” I purred into the phone. “I love you.”
“And I love you, too, Charlie. Forever,” Jones assured me.
We reluctantly hung up with one another with more confessions of love and how excited we were to see one another in a matter of hours. I stood under the shower, scrubbing my hair and shaving areas I had never really paid attention to before. A little manscaping, making sure that I looked and smelled good for my soon-to-be husband. Or rather, I would smell like him, since this was Jones’s house, his bodywash and shampoo.
Once I had washed and dried myself, I made sure my hair looked as best as it could. I could have done with a cut, but I didn’t have time for that now. I didn’t think that Jones would care. He seemed to like me just the way I was. I stared at myself in the mirror, my dark eyes shining with a happiness I hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since I walked out of my father’s house and left Jones behind. I didn’t see what he did when he looked at me. I always thought my face was too sharp. Too many angles. Not enough fullness. I hated the mole that Jones seemed to be obsessed with. My lips were too wide, and my chin was too long.
But Jones seemed to love everything about me. Just like I loved everything about him. His blond curls, those shiny hazel eyes, and those crooked teeth. He was beautiful, kind,and way out of my league. He chose me. He wanted me, and I would make sure to keep him for as long as he would let me.
I changed into my briefs, slacks, and a dress shirt with a buzzing in my belly. After today, I would no longer carry around the same name as my father. I would be Mr. Jones Matthews. I smiled at the thought and imagined what it would be like when I introduced my friends back in Boston to Jones.
“This is my husband, Jones.”
“Have you met my husband? This is the love of my life, Jones Matthews.”
“Everyone, this is Jones, my husband.”
I chuckled to myself, then heard my phone ding with a text notification. I expected it to be Jones, but instead, it was from Beverly. Shit.
Bev:Guess where I am?
She had included a photo of herself at Charolotte airport. Double shit.
