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Fame, like infamy, always comes with a cost.
We both know that. It’s just the sad reality of what I do, but if there’s any way I can protect him from any future unintended crapfests, I will.
Fortunately, the drama is pretty low-key these days when my channels are a mix of travel, animals in peril, and showing off how lucky I am with my man.
I love how much he respects my dreams and what he’s prepared to do to make them happen. It’s just thrilling to see everything I want coming together, and how supportive everyone can be as our future comes closer.
* * *
The morning of my wedding,I wake up in Shepherd’s arms.
Yes, tradition says we should have spent the night apart.
But it’s not like we haven’t slept together before and even one night without him feels like an eternity. You only get to live the best day of your life once.
I can’t imagine starting it any other way than waking up beside my future husband.
“Morning, sweetheart.” He drops a kiss on the end of my nose.
“The birds are singing.” I lie back and listen, then wiggle my way up.
Oh, God, this is happening.
I’m so excited I can’t breathe.
“Just a few more hours.” Shepherd leans over, rubbing his bristly chin all over my chest, making me squeal.
I wrap my legs around him and that familiar heat enters his eyes.
The first time we slept together, I was sure it was a one-off.
A flippant mistake we’d struggle to forget.
Yet here we are, still ravenous for each other, and counting down the seconds until the knot is officially tied.
“Not now. We have to wait until after the wedding.” I twist away from his searching mouth.
“Why, dammit?”
“Because. Tradition.”
“Fuck tradition.” He growls the word into my shoulder and bites down gently. “Woman, don’t you know better than to tease me like that?”
“I’m not teasing you! I’m bringing us good luck.” I’m also breathless. Heat curls through my veins, pooling between my legs.
“You’re about to be my wife,” he rumbles. “Give me one good damn reason why I shouldn’t throw you down and make you scream my name right now.”
“Because anticipation makes it sweeter?”
“Anticipation isn’t what I call limping through my own wedding vows with balls so blue they look like they're ready to be made into a pie.”
I laugh at how he pouts, letting my head fall back, and he chuckles down at me.
That’s another lovely thing about Shepherd.
He doesn’t mind it when I’m blatantly messy.
I told him once that I was considering not shaving and he told me I'd be just as beautiful with or without hair.
