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“Let’s get this started,” Ben says before I can respond to Trace. He takes Melissa’s hand and drags her toward the doors.
I quickly lift onto the tips of my toes, a necessary action even in heels, and kiss Trace. “I’m glad you’re mine, too. Let’s watch our best friends get hitched before they do it without us.” I drag him into the chapel with me.
Melissa and Ben are filling out paperwork, so luckily, we haven’t missed anything. This place is nicely decorated. There are flowers everywhere and Melissa gets to pick out a bouquet. Once that is done, Ben and Trace are ushered into the room where the wedding will actually take place. There’s a photographer inside, taking a few pictures of them before she comes out and takes a picture of us. She disappears back into the room right before music starts to play as my cue.
Ben is anxiously waiting while Trace has a goofy, mesmerizing grin on his face. I take my place and then the doors open again for Melissa. That goofy grin Trace was wearing transfers to Ben’s face. Melissa really is beautiful. The ceremony doesn’t take but maybe fifteen minutes as they recount the usual wedding promises. After the I dos, Ben kisses Melissa in a way that makes me blush for being able to see it. Right now, Melissa is the only one with a ring. They’re supposed to go shopping for a band for Ben when we get back.
“We’ll meet up for dinner before heading to the airport,” Ben says over his shoulder, already walking down the aisle with his new wife.
“Have fun,” Trace calls out to them. He holds out his arm and I loop mine through it. “Let’s go have our own fun.”
We make it to the elevators and end up being the only ones inside. Trace grabs my hips and pulls me flush against him, kissing me like we’re the ones who just got married. His hands drag up my sides, causing my dress to rise up some with him. His mouth moves to my neck, and I push him away just enough so there’s space between us.
“We’re in an elevator,” I remind him.
“And alone,” he reminds me.
The elevator dings and the doors open. Trace smiles and pulls me down the hallway to our room. He starts kissing me again. The world seems to narrow to just Trace. His lips on my neck, his hands finding the zipper of my dress to drag it down. His hands slide up to my shoulders to push the material down until it’s falling off my body and pooling at my feet. Trace pushes on my hips and I fall onto the bed behind me. He starts to undress.
“I can help you with that,” I say, pushing up on my elbows.
“Nope. Rather look at you lying there than to have you help me.”
I scoot further up the bed and then unhook my bra, throwing it at Trace. He catches it with a grin before tossing it over his shoulder. By the time I do the same with my panties, he’s naked and crawling into the bed, covering my body like he’s a man on a mission. I love when he’s like this. It’s like he needs one specific thing from this world and I’m it. I’m what he’s missing. He kisses my shoulder, my collarbone, and then my neck with a heady combination of him cherishing me and taking everything he needs from me while giving it right back to me.
“God, I love you,” he mumbles against my skin.
I grin. That’s all that matters.
It’s late when we get home Saturday night, so we sleep in Sunday. Trace pulls me closer against him as he rouses awake. His stomach growls loudly too.
“You know what I was dreaming about?” he rumbles.
“What?”
“You cooking. Then, I realized that since you’ve lived here with me, you haven’t cooked a single meal.”
“That’s too many thoughts to have just woken up.”
He chuckles. “You do know how to cook, don’t you? That might be a deal breaker.”
That makes me laugh. “Yeah, right. You love to cook, and even if we get home around the same time, you still take over in the kitchen.”
“But do you know how to cook?”
“Hey,” I prop myself up with my forearms on Trace’s chest. “I’ve cooked us pizza and those cracker things your mom made and I made eggs and grits one day.”
“You burned the marshmallows,” he points out.
I roll my eyes. “If I remember correctly, someone distracted me, so it wasn’t even my fault.”
“Let’s get back to the real topic. Can you make pancakes for me this morning?”
I narrow my eyes and tilt my head at him. “What are you up to that you want me to cook you breakfast?”
Trace laughs. “Nothing. I just want to see if you can do it.”
“You think I’ll mess up pancakes?”
