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“Damien, I love being yours.”
“Still, I can’t wait for you to be mine officially,” he replies and wraps his arms around me. I lean on his chest, both of us submerged in bubbles.
“Only a few weeks left.”
“Too long as it is.” I love the way my heart leaps whenever I glimpse his desire and desperation for me mixing in his voice.
I turn around to face him and cup his beautiful face in my hands and press my mouth to his, taking my time, sucking and tracing with my tongue the contour of his lips.
“I’m sure you’re still sore. Stop teasing me.”
I splash some water on his face. He dips his chin, his teeth biting into my shoulder. He turns me around, my back glued to his chest. Damien washes me, first my hair and then every inch of my body.
“That’s what I needed,” I say through a moan, relaxation coursing through me.
“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t tend to my woman’s needs?”
He winks at me, standing up as water drips from his ripped body. After he dries himself, he eyes me over his shoulder before he leaves to get ready.
Thirty minutes later, our family arrives. Alex mumbles a good morning, and Sophia’s eyes are heavy with the lack of sleep behind the sunglasses she slides back on. My mother kisses me on the cheek, still talking on the phone, and my father pulls me into a hug.
“Hi, baby girl. Nervous?”
I shake my head and search for some nerves, but I’m the embodiment of calm.
“Daddy, I’m everything but.”
“Must be because you have the right man at your side.”
“Yes, I have.”
He smiles at me and whispers, “I have never seen your mother as stressed as the days following your announcement, and that says something. I question if I’m still married to your mother or at the beginning of a bromance with Andrew.”
It’s clear from his tone, he doesn’t mean it as a joke, but I still burst out laughing, patting him on the arm.
“Only a few weeks more, and then you have Mom just for yourself.”
My future father-in-law pulls me to him and says, “It's finally happening. I couldn’t be happier.”
Contentedness washes over me. It’s blissful to feel accepted and loved.
“How’s the bromance working for you?”
He chuckles.
“Thank god for bourbon and chess. These women are maddening with the wedding preparation. They are on the phone at least fourteen hours a day, and although they have Sarah, she stands no chance with your mother and Rebecca.”
“I can only imagine.”
Rebecca is next in line as if she heard we were talking about her and hugs me, her voice full of playfulness.
“Did he just play the victim card?”
I nod, biting down a smile, but one can see the love she has for him, and it warms my heart. We have amazing examples of great marriages in the family.
Her phone rings, and she excuses herself saying, “Sorry, honey, I have to take this.”
Our fathers sit on the couch, deep in conversation with Damien next to them. Probably something to do with the company—nothing new there. The door opens again, and Quinn steps in. I jump into his arms, and he kisses the top of my head.
