“It’s just for tonight,” I say. “Alie and Liam have the kids, and we’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning if you want.”
“He means late morning,” Alie adds. “We’ll get them to school.”
Presley’s eyes stay on me.
“So you planned this?”
“I did.”
“By yourself?”
I frown. “What do you mean by myself? I’ve managed to do okay in adulthood, Doc.”
Alie coughs.
“But I did have help with the logistics with the kids,” I amend. “And your overnight bag.”
Presley smiles in a way that makes every nerve in my body settle and spark at the same time.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
I lift her hand and kiss her knuckles.
“Happy wedding day, Doc.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Don’t make me cry in this restaurant.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The Plaza looks like something from another life. Presley’s life, actually.
It’s all marble and gold, polished elegance. The kind of place that makes me feel underdressed, even in a suit.
Presley walks beside me through the lobby, her hand tucked into my arm, her wedding band catching the light every few steps.
I keep looking at it. And she notices.
“You’re staring again.”
“At my wife.”
She inhales softly, then looks at me like she’s trying not to smile.
“You’re going to be insufferable.”
“Going to be?”
“Right. You are insufferable.”
Then we both laugh.
I check us in, and the concierge hands over Presley’s bag, which Alie dropped off earlier today, along with the key, and offers warm congratulations that make Presley’s cheeks flush.
We don’t say much in the elevator.
I think the champagne at lunch has made her a little sleepy.
We get to the suite, and I tap the lock, but before she can walk in, I sweep her into my arms.
