“Well, do you want to see the inside, or do you want to sleep in the car and just admire it from out here?”
She smacked my arm and hopped out of the truck, bouncing up on the balls of her feet as she waited for me to join her. “When did you do this?”
“I told you, you were gone for a long time today.”
Her expression was deadpan for all of three seconds before brightening again. “Come on, I want to see the inside!”
Kissing the top of her head, I led her around to a side door and let us in. Even I was shocked by what we walked in on. I’d seen the pictures of our villa, but this was insane. The villa matched the vineyard, and it was as if we’d stepped into Italy, but out back was the best view of nothing but pure country.
I could get used to this.
Rachel was turning slowly, with her mouth still wide open, so I told her to go look around and went back out to the truck to start bringing everything in. I was finishing up putting all of the food on the kitchen counter when I heard her clear her throat behind me.
Looking over my shoulder, I shot a confused look at the face she was making. “Uh . . . do you not like the rest of it?”
Her blue eyes sparkled as she fought off a grin. “Oh no, I do. It’s gorgeous here. The bedroom’s my favorite.”
I couldn’t even come back with a suggestive remark like I wanted to. She was still looking at me weird. “Okay . . . ?”
“Good to know we’re on our honeymoon. Apparently I missed something.”
My head jerked back and my brow furrowed. “Uh, what?”
“Oh, so you didn’t know either? Go check the bedroom. I’ll wait here.”
I made my way to the bedroom and stopped short when I finally found it. What . . . in the actual fuck? On the bed were rose petals in the shape of a massive heart, and above the heart, spelled out in Hershey’s Kisses, were two words. Just. Married. Um. What?
There was a letter lying on the rose petals, as if Rachel hadn’t bothered to fold it back up, and I grabbed at it.
Mr. and Mrs. Logan Hendricks,
We are pleased you have chosen The Vineyard at Florence as your honeymoon destination and hope you enjoy your stay here. In the kitchen you will find vouchers for free brunch every day of your stay, as well as complimentary chocolate-dipped strawberries in the refrigerator and some of our finest wine.
Congratulations on your recent nuptials.
Sincerely,
The staff of The Vineyard at Florence
One, I was going to kill Mason after I shook his hand for somehow pulling this off. Two, I really hoped Rachel wasn’t freaking out over this. At the moment, I couldn’t remember what she’d looked like when she told me about this; had she been mad or scared? Three . . . I placed my thumb over the name Hendricks and swallowed hard. I let the image of the girl I’d left in the kitchen be forefront in my mind and pictured the surname Ryan instead. My heart started racing as I imagined it all.
Rachel in a white dress, her blue eyes and beautiful smile directed at me as we exchanged vows. Rachel with my parents and Mason’s family. Us at the beach in Florida. Rachel’s stomach round with my hands pressed softly against it.
I let my focus come back to the bedroom of the villa and blew out a hard breath. It didn’t matter that I’d only known her a little over two months. I’d known that first day that she was a game changer, and I was sure now that I couldn’t live without her. I wanted to marry her; I wanted everything I’d just envisioned. And I wanted it now.
Letting the letter drop back onto the rose heart, I walked through the house to find Rachel shutting the pantry door; she’d put away all the food while I’d been in there. With a secretive smile, she nodded her head in the direction of the refrigerator and my body relaxed when I caught the brightness in her eyes again. She wasn’t mad. She wasn’t scared about what any of that meant; she wasn’t accusing me of anything even though she couldn’t have known that it was all Mason. I opened the door to the fridge and right in the middle was a tray of huge chocolate-covered strawberries, just as the letter had said. And off on a side counter were the wines.
Without a word, I grabbed Rachel’s hand and towed her back outside. She laughed and tugged against me, but I wasn’t letting her win this one.
“Kash, what? Did you forget stuff in the truck?”
“Nope.” I stopped suddenly, whirled around, and knocked her legs out from under her, catching her and cradling her in my arms before she could hit the ground. She gasped and glared at me, but I kissed her soundly to silence any snide remark she could have made. She wasn’t about to ruin this. “I forgot this.” I met her blue death stare and waited for it to soften before speaking again. “Mrs. Hendricks . . .” Wrong name. Wrong. Name. “Isn’t it tradition to carry your new bride across the threshold?”
Her head tilted back and she laughed. “Isn’t it tradition for the bride to be aware that she got married?”
I paused with one foot in the villa and one out. “You’re ruining it, woman,” I growled.
“Well, husband”—her laugh died down and she ran her hand down the side of my face to my neck—“we should probably continue with tradition and consummate the marriage.”
Kissing her lips once, I left my mouth hovering over hers as I took the last step into the villa. “Let’s get to it, wife.”
I didn’t miss her near-silent inhale on the last word or the way her blue eyes had taken on a darkness I’d never seen before. And I wondered if she was seeing a future similar to the one I’d been seeing in the bedroom.
“I LOVE YOUR tattoos,” she whispered softly, and I cracked open my eyes to watch as hers followed her trailing finger on my arm.
“Do you?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
I grinned and helped her by turning my arm when she reached where it rested against the bed. “Who’s the liar now?” When her brow scrunched together, I continued. “I seem to remember you telling me you hated them, along with my lip ring . . . my hair . . .”
Her soft laugh filled the room and I tried to commit the sound to memory. “I was lying.”
“Exactly, so who’s the liar now?”
She shrugged with the shoulder that wasn’t against the mattress. “But those were forgiving lies.”
“What lies?”
“Forgiving lies, the only kind I’ll tell.” Forgetting her study of my arm, she crawled up the bed and rested her head on the pillow next to mine so our noses were almost touching. “You know, like white lies.”
I pulled her closer and let the tips of my fingers trail up and down her bare spine. “So why not just call them white lies?”
“Because they’re usually lies you tell people to protect them or be polite . . . right?” I just raised an eyebrow as confirmation and she smoothed it out. “It’s like you telling me I looked beautiful when I was sick, or how I had to keep telling Candice I was fine when I wasn’t, and acting like I wasn’t upset with her even though I was. And with you? You and I both knew I was lying anyway . . . so they’re lies. But they’re the kind of lies that people forgive and forget about because they’re so minor. But when people tell harmful lies, or ones that can shatter trusts, and the other person finds out about them . . . they always say what they did was unforgivable. So if lies that can hurt people are unforgivable, then why can’t the ones that are meant to be polite be forgiving lies?”
I prayed she didn’t notice how tense my body had become. I searched her face for any indication that she knew I was hiding things from her, but when I found nothing, I worked at slowing my heart rate and relaxing every muscle in my body. Realizing I’d stopped my trail at the top of her back, I began slowly going up and down again.
“Forgiving makes more sense when you put it that way. And you did look beautiful that day; you always do.” My tone was gruff and I hoped like hell she wouldn’t try to figure out why.
Liar, she mouthed.
I shook my head, wishing I could say I wasn’t. I wasn’t lying about her always being beautiful. But being a liar was pretty much in my job description. So instead, I said the one thing that wasn’t, and never would be, a lie. “I love you, Rachel.”
“I know.” She smiled and ducked down to kiss along my jaw. “And I love you too.”
One of her hands trailed down my stomach and I caught it before it could get to where I was already hard. I wanted her, but she’d just unknowingly called me out on everything I was doing to her, and the guilt I had from lying to her had just tripled and was eating at me. I didn’t deserve anything from her right now; but she just rolled to her knees and began the same descent with her other hand. Capturing that one as well, I intertwined our fingers and pinned our hands to the bed.
“Rachel . . . ,” I said when she grinned devilishly at me.
Bending low, she placed a kiss on my right hip before trailing her tongue along the muscles of my lower abdomen. “Shut up, Kash.”
Flashing her blue eyes up at me, she winked and leaned back before letting her lips slowly trail up my length. My fingers dug into the top of her hands and pressed them harder against the comforter when they wrapped around the tip and her tongue darted out to taste me teasingly before releasing me. A growl worked its way out of my chest and cut off abruptly when she took me in completely, never once taking her eyes off me. My head fell so I was looking up at the ceiling before my eyes rolled back and I fought with hating myself for lying to her and loving everything she was giving to me, including her complete and utter trust. I released her hands and whispered, “Forgive me, Rachel,” to the ceiling low enough that I knew she couldn’t hear me as I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up my body.
I crushed our mouths together and squeezed her closer to me as I rolled us over and brought my knee up between her legs, parting them while I searched blindly for another condom. She wrapped her long legs around my back and flicked her tongue against my lip ring before tugging on it gently, and I groaned as I attacked her mouth again. I dug my h*ps harder against hers and we both stopped moving when I was pressed at her entrance. We stared at each other, our breathing ragged as I began teasing and sliding against her, and when I’d barely started to slip inside her, her face turned pleading.
“Please, Kash. Don’t stop.”
Stop. Stop. You need to stop . . . motherfucker, stop. “Shit.” I reached over to the nightstand and slapped my hand down on a condom.
Tearing it open with my teeth, I had it rolled on and was slamming into Rachel within seconds. She yelled my name and gripped my shoulders tight as I pounded into her and I almost lost it a few minutes later when she whispered for me to go harder. Raising myself up even more on one forearm, I reached down between us and watched her beautiful face respond to my touching her and as she came undone beneath me. I came crashing down with her and when I couldn’t support my weight anymore, I lowered my body onto hers.
“Holy hell,” she breathed, and let her hands run through my hair and down my back. “Just . . . wow.”