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“Yes, sir,” I laugh, snapping off a salute.
He smirks and then his hands move from my hips to my belly, finding all the special tickling places that drive me into fits of laughter. I try to move away from him, but it’s too late.
Before I know it, we’re in a full-fledged tickle war.
I gasp when I walk out the front door to find a limousine sitting in front of the beach house. Jett smirks down at me, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth, his face clean shaven. He wears a light gray suit, highlighting the experienced silver of his hair.
His touch shimmers up my back when he brings his hand to just above my ass, leading me firmly toward the car.
“Don’t just stand there staring,” he grins.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I say.
“You can’t believe I treated a queen like a queen?” he chuckles. “Come on, Juliana. I know you’re not that naïve anymore.”
I nudge him in the side playfully, so happy we can tease each other like this, both knowing that it’s all in good fun and, when you get right down to it, we love each other.
Love each other, I repeat the phrase again and again in my mind as we walk together toward the limo.
I can’t lose myself too deeply in those words.
If I just blurted them, he might not say them back.
He places his hand on my leg and gives a soft squeeze, but when I turn to him, he’s facing the window, the ocean flitting by beyond him. I swallow and wait for him to turn to me. There’s something about the way he clutches at my leg, a slight tremor that tells me he’s nervous.
It seems impossible that Jett is nervous. But I’ve never seen him like this before.
“Are you okay?” I murmur.
“Okay?” he repeats, slowly turning those startling blue eyes to me. “That doesn’t even come close to what I’m feeling right now, Juliana. My whole life—No, just wait. Okay? We won’t be much longer.”
Just wait.
My heart flutters wildly at the words.
What are we waiting for?
I think I know, but the last thing I want to do is get my hopes up only to have them dashed and shattered and broken into a million pieces. I can’t help but imagine his lips splitting apart in a wolfish laugh if I told him what secret hope was flurrying around inside of me.
We stay silent for the rest of the car ride, one of our silences, the kind that constantly stuns me every time we fall into them.
It’s like we’ve been together for years and we don’t always feel the need to fill the silence with our words like we can just sit and be without worrying about what it says about us.
We drive from the coast deeper inland, through a valley, and into a large suburban neighborhood. White picket fences and big luscious garden fronts, with children playing in the streets, stopping to gape at us as the limo drives by.
There are families and lives and happiness around every corner, and as we drive on, I can’t stop my foot from tapping, nerves dancing along with excitement.
Please, please, please, I scream silently.
Finally, the limo pulls up outside the largest house I’ve seen yet.
A regal silver gate sits between two gargoyle-topped pillars. Jett climbs out and approaches the gate, typing a few buttons into the keypad, and then returns. The gate slides into grooves in the pillars and then we drive up the long gravel driveway.
The garden is as verdant as the rest of the neighborhood, but this one has a fountain, bright blue water spraying into the sky and then cascading back down to the earth.
The limo stops outside the mansion, at least a dozen windows staring at me from the front of the house, each one of them sparkling like twelve winking eyes. A broad set of steps leads up to the wide, tall front door. It’s the sort of place I’ve only ever seen in movies and reality shows before.
Suddenly, the car door opens, a chauffeur holding it open for me. I step out, about to say thank you, but then I do a double-take and let out a long peal of laughter.
Patricia looks prim and proper in her chauffeur’s outfit, and Rebel even has one of her own, her cap pulled over her head and her smile pink and toothy.
“You’ve been driving this whole time?” I laugh.
“Yes, and this one has been absolutely perfect,” Patricia chuckles, giving Rebel a little bob. “I think she knows it’s your special day, too.”
“Shall we?” Jett says, a broad smile on his face.
But I don’t mistake the uncertainty flitting in those summer-sky eyes of his.
He offers me his arm and I loop mine through his.
We walk up the steps and approach the door. Jett pushes it open, nodding for me to go ahead.
