“I think you’ll survive,” I tease him and then squeak when he grabs me by my ankle and yanks me out of bed. “Rick!” I shout as he throws me over his shoulder and runs to the bathroom.
“I think you’ll survive,” he mimics my words as he steps under the freezing water of the shower, and then I really scream, making him laugh.
“You are a dead man, Rick Donovan!” I shout as he soaps me down.
“And you’re about to be a very happily married woman.”
“You’re just lucky I love you so much,” I say before he shoves me under the frigid spray again to rinse off. “And you’re good in bed.”
“I love you too.”
“You better,” I snap, even though I’m clearly enjoying myself watching him soap up his body as I inch as far away from the cold water as possible.
“Oh, I do.” He winks at me before giving his cock an extra stroke and a squeeze for my benefit.
“Why are we taking a polar bear plunge right now?”
“Because my dick could drive nails right now, and you so helpfully reminded me that we have a wedding to attend,” he says, eyeing his dick and then looking pointedly at me.
“What did I do?” I ask, wondering what I did to earn the glare and the cold shower.
“You make the dick hard,” he says like I should know the answer.
“You should control it better,” I tell him. I can barely get the words out before I’m laughing so hard my belly hurts and I can’t catch my breath.
“Oh, you think this is funny, do you?”
“Maybe.” I eye him suspiciously.
“Then you’ll find this hilarious,” he says just before he hauls me into his arms and crushes his mouth to mine.
And then we were an hour later leaving San Diego than we had originally planned.
• • •
“I don’t need a dress.”
“You need a dress,” Rick presses as we walk through another shop in the Forum.
“I don’t.” I let out a frustrated sigh before looking down my body. I’m in a flowy, white eyelet tank and frayed denim shorts. Brown leather flip-flops show off the coral nail polish on my toes. I don’t look any worse than Rick, who is wearing tan cargo shorts and a gray T-shirt that displays his ripped forearms and the frog feet tattoo on his inner bicep.
“You do,” he says with more feeling than I would have thought a dress warranted. “I want you to have every girl’s dream, but I can’t get you that on short notice, so I want you to have a dress and flowers and a ring. I want you to remember today as the best day of your life, free of regrets.”
“I think this one is nice,” I say, pointing to a white tea-length dress hanging on a rack after I swallow the huge lump in my throat. “Besides, I already have every girl’s dream, because I have you.”
Rick pulls me into his arms and kisses me long and deep, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and leaving me breathless. It’s over far too soon. And then he plucks the dress I’ve chosen off the rack, the hanger looking small and delicate in his large hand before he turns back to me.
“What else?”
“Shoes,” I tell him before walking over to a wall of heels and selecting a box in my size.
“What about the hat thing that covers your hair?” he asks, making me laugh. Rick always makes me laugh when I need it most, reminding me what’s really important.
“A veil?”
“Yeah,” he answers me. “That. But don’t cover your beautiful face. I like to look at you.”
“This one.” I grab a bag with a picture on the front that looks like it fits the bill. “I think that’s it.”
