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“Patience. All good things come to those who wait,” he murmurs as it moves to just under my knee.
“Higher!”
The garter slips past my knee and Chase’s hands are no longer in view of the crowd. Slowly, he skims his fingers up my thigh. I start to flush, hoping this isn’t going where I think it will.
“Higher!”
“I don’t think you can get much higher,” I say.
“Just a little more,” he says, looking into my eyes, his dimple making an appearance in his left cheek. One more second of Chase looking at me that way with his hands under my dress and I might combust. He brings the garter up another inch and his fingers brush against my panties. I hold my breath, waiting, but nothing happens. He withdraws his hands and stands. The crowd claps and cheers as I struggle to put my shoe back on. Chase extends his hand and helps me out of the chair. Pulling me close, he murmurs, “You didn’t think I would do anything inappropriate in public, did you?”
“Um—”
“Dirty girl,” he teases, kissing my forehead.
The cake has been eaten, the last dance is long over, and all the guests have departed, so Chase and I make our way back to Amanda’s cottage for the relaxing after party. I take off my shoes, throw them on the floor, and plop down on the couch next to where Justin and Miranda are sitting. Chase goes into the kitchen and comes back with two glasses of white wine. Handing one to me, he places his on the table next to the couch. Sitting down, he reaches over, maneuvers my legs so my feet are resting on his thighs, picks up my left foot, and starts to massage it.
“Mmmm,” is all I manage to mutter.
“I don’t know how you ladies walk around in those things,” Justin comments as he copies Chase.
“It’s the price we pay for looking beautiful,” Miranda answers.
“Where’s Amanda?” I ask.
“Right here. I needed to get out of that dress,” she says, exiting the bedroom in a shorter, less formal version of her wedding dress.
“Maybe we should’ve booked the massages for after the wedding,” Miranda comments.
“Nope, I’m good,” I say, taking a sip of wine. Chase is really good at this, his thumbs hitting the right spots on the soles of my feet.
“Feel good?” he whispers.
“Amazing. I could definitely get used to this,” I moan.
His eyes sparkling, he answers, “Good.”
“What time are you flying home tomorrow?” Justin asks Chase.
“Late afternoon sometime. I’ll check with the pilot in the morning. What about you?”
“First thing in the morning,” Miranda answers. “I’m flying to Greece for a photo shoot early Monday morning and I want to be fresh.”
“Where’s Nathan?” Chase asks Amanda.
“Dealing with his parents,” she answers with a wave toward the back door. “I think his mom had too many glasses of champagne.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Chase chuckles.
“His old man can put ’em away, though,” Justin says, impressed.
Chase switches to the other foot. At this rate, I might fall asleep on the couch, I’m so comfortable. “Are you staying here all week?” I ask Amanda.
“No. We’re flying to France and spending two weeks on the French Riviera.”
“Wow, sounds fantastic.”
“I know! I can’t wait. We’re leaving tomorrow morning as well.”
