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I softly squeeze her hand before bringing it to my lips for a kiss. I’m crossing lines, but knowing is not enough to stop me. I want her. It’s that simple. For the last few months, we’ve been dating and sharing a bed where she wakes up in my arms, and now she’s my wife. I’m having a hard time remembering that this isn’t real.
I was worried that she would get hurt at the end of all of this. In the back of my mind, there was this lingering anxiety that her heart would be broken. Now, I realize it’s not Monroe I should have been worried about. It’s me. I should have been safeguarding my own heart. Instead, I was too worried about hers, and she slipped her way past my defenses.
My wife has quickly become my favorite person, and I don’t know how in the hell I’m supposed to give that up. We have an entire year before that happens. It speaks volumes that we’ve been husband and wife for a matter of hours, and I’m already dreading the day she walks away from me.
When we make it to the house, I kill the engine and turn to face her. “Stay put.”
“I can walk, Legend,” she sasses. She tries to act like she’s annoyed, but the smile playing on her lips gives her away.
Leaning over the console, I slide my hand behind her neck, guiding her to me. “I know you can, wife. But it’s our wedding day, and I’m going to get your door.” I kiss the tip of her nose, drop my hand, grab my keys, and climb out of the truck.
As I pull open her door, she grins, shaking her head as I reach in and unbuckle her seat belt. “Did I miss the part of our vows that says my husband has to cater to me?” she teases.
“You must have.” Before she can turn to climb out, I reach in, scoop her up in my arms, and lift her from the truck.
“Legend!” she screeches. It turns into laughter when I use my hip to close the door and start walking toward the front door. “What are you doing?” She loops her arms around my neck.
“Carrying my bride over the threshold.” I wink, and her grin grows even as she playfully rolls those beautiful blue eyes of hers.
“Legend, you don’t need to do all of that. Come on, put me down.” Her request is stale at best. She makes no move to unclasp her hands that are threaded together behind my neck.
I lean down until my lips are right next to her ear. “No.”
I keep making my way to our front door, ignoring her laughing protests. I manage to enter the keyless entry code without putting her on her feet and push open the door so that I can carry my wife inside.
My. Wife.
That’s something else I can’t stop doing. Referring to her as my wife—in my head and out loud. It’s like now that she’s mine, I need to let the entire world know it, including her. It’s ridiculous, and I can recall a moment not long ago when I gave Roman shit for doing the same thing. He told me I’d understand one day, and that day is finally here.
It hits differently, the feelings of knowing she’s now Mrs. Legend Raines. I never would have believed it until I’d lived it.
I kick the door closed, and it makes a loud crashing sound. She jumps, causing me to tighten my hold on her. “Sorry, gorgeous.” I didn’t mean to scare her.
“You can put me down now.” While she says the words, she keeps her arms wrapped around my neck. Again, her words are stale. An empty request that has me holding her a little tighter. She thinks she’s supposed to tell me to put her down, but she’s perfectly content in my arms.
“Patience, wife.” I smile at the beautiful woman in my hold.
She’s mine. That’s all I can focus on. No one else can touch her or hold her at night while she sleeps. At least not for the next year. That privilege goes to me, and fuck me, but I’m stoked about it.
I’m setting myself up for a crash-and-burn scenario when our time is up, but when I’ve got her like this, in my arms, holding onto me, smiling at me as if I hung the moon, well, I can’t seem to find any fucks to give. I promised her she would be my queen, and for the next twelve months, I intend to show her exactly what that means.
Consequences and pain be damned.
I make it to our room and step inside. It’s dark, but I’m able to make my way blindly to the bed and place her down gently before reaching over and turning on the bedside lamp. The first thing I see when the light illuminates the room is my wife’s smile. It lights up the room more than the lamp ever could.
“Is this how married life is going to be? You carting me around everywhere?” Her smile is radiant, and her question is one she already knows the answer to.
I shrug. “Probably.” I step in front of her and push her long, dark, curly hair over her shoulder. “You’re beautiful.”
A light pink blush coats her cheeks. “Thank you. You look handsome.” Monroe tugs on the hem of my untucked black dress shirt.
I stare down at her, and all I can think about is stripping her out of that dress. That’s what a man is supposed to do on his wedding night. I’m supposed to cherish my wife. The need to do that very thing is so strong that it’s like a tidal wave of desire pulling me under.
“Let’s get you out of the dress.” My voice is husky even to my own ears.
Monroe’s eyes widen just a fraction, but I notice. I offer her my hand, and she allows me to pull her to her feet.
“Turn around.”
