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Avery chimes in, “Yeah, you need to get those inner thighs in shape.”
Wils rolls his eyes, then they soften around the edges as he pretends to scratch his non-existent beard, ignoring her. “I’ll call the farm manager and arrange it. Let’s meet in the kitchen in an hour. We’ll start checking off items from our list tomorrow,” Wils says, sporting a relieved smile.
After meeting the group and getting the horses saddled, Wils and I wander off by ourselves, having both ridden horses in our youth. We find a place that winds down to a creek. Sitting side by side next to the creek, our fingers interlace as the gentle water mumbles its soothing melody. The setting sun casts a warm glow over the chilly night.
“Are you happy? Tell me the truth.”
I lift my chin and look into his ocean blue eyes. “The happiest I’ve ever been.”
His eyes water as he asks, “Is it?”
I can see the joy in his eyes; they’re reflecting the same happiness in my soul. Everything else blurs away as we gaze into each other’s eyes, and the world seems to stop turning. In this serene moment, our destiny is right here. Right now.
“Yes, every detail of the castle and this mansion are perfect.”
The evening breeze brushes through our hair, and I can’t resist taking off his beanie and running my fingers through his tousled locks. The warm presence of his hands skate across my cheeks. We exchange a daring smile, and after a minute of hesitation, Wils claims my mouth.
I’m his. He’s mine. And we don’t need a marriage certificate to understand the depth of our connection and the love we’ve shared since we were teens.
The creek’s gentle song creates a peaceful backdrop, intensifying the intimacy between us. He takes off his Barbour jacket and lays it on the cold ground. He pushes down the leggings underneath my dress as his fingers sneak under my panties.
“Wils, not here. Someone could find us.”
He produces a light chuckle. “You’re always talking about our lives being too planned. How you want to be spontaneous. This is me being spontaneous.” His tone is two octaves deeper than normal, and I feel a rush through my core and the dampness on my panties.
“You, Wilson Shepherd, are being a very … bad … boy,” I say in my sultriest voice.
“That’s the point. Be bad with me.”
My eyes widen as I nod in agreement.
Our life revolves around schedules and sticking to them, but tonight we throw the calendars into the rushing water. He removes my boots and leggings, then takes off his own. Warming my body like it's summer, he plays with my folds.
He enters me and it feels like a steel freaking rod; he’s so hard. His slow, measured movements involve pulling all the way out and pushing all the way back in. My fingernails dig into his ass. God, I love his ass, especially naked or in his baseball uniform. My fingers skate up to his puckered hole, and I tenderly scrape my nails over the tight skin.
“You’re such a bad girl,” he roars in between ragged breaths.
He plunges into me harder, and time seems to slow down, giving us time to cherish this blissfully intimate moment where love seems to have cast an enchanting spell.
“I’m going to come,” I pant while drawing him closer to me than feels humanly possible. One large palm encases my ass as he pumps a few more times, with his body spewing into me like rushing rapids.
His body blankets mine, and with the creek as our witness, I’m certain that no matter where we are, we’re home if we’re together.
By the time we return, everyone is sitting around the firepit. Patrick offers, “There’s pizza, wine, and beer in the kitchen.”
“Thanks.”
Megan goes over the list of what needs to be done while Wils calls both our parents to give them good news and their tasks of the seating charts and signage.
Guys: cancel flights and make new arrangements.
Girls: shop for flowers for the rehearsal and bouquets.
Wils: handle the flowers for the wedding day, figure out catering, and find a new wedding coordinator.
I survey the circle of friends that are taking ten days from their busy lives to make our dreams come true, and my eyes water. Wils notices and puts his arm around the back of my chair, fiddling with my hair as he whispers into my ear, “We’re lucky.”
“We are.” I nod my head while wiping away an errant tear.
