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“Our what?” I ask, still laughing, but then he starts to fumble with his jeans button. Images of him trying to tap said instrument against mine force me to slap his hand, laughing even harder. Turning to me and smiling, he finally places his hands on the steering wheel and asks, “Ready?”
“Yes.”
“You have the most beautiful smile.”
“Can we just go already?” I giggle, eager to get to my surprise.
“Fine, but you’re paying,” he jests and somehow manoeuvres the car onto the busy road.
I sigh dramatically. “I kind of maybe left my purse at home.”
“Clever.” His hand goes to my thigh and squeezes. “You’ll just have to pay me in other ways.”
“Now? While you’re driving?” I reach over and start to pull on the zipper of his jeans. “Well okay then.”
“Gwen!” His tone is panicked yet happy as he grips my hand in his to stop my assault. “Behave.”
“Boring.”
My thigh stings when he slaps it. I try not to react, knowing how much he loves it when I squeal. “Nob.”
“Language.”
“Language,” I mimic in a whiny, annoying tone.
“Don’t start that again.”
“Don’t start that again.”
“I’m serious.”
“I’m…” His hand covers my mouth, which only makes me laugh harder. I’d lick his palm to get him off but he’s wearing his leather gloves so I’ll settle for nipping at it with my teeth instead.
“You’re such a child,” he smirks, finally releasing my mouth.
“Yet you love me.”
“I do. Without you my life would certainly be missing a lot.”
I melt over the console and nuzzle his shoulder and neck. “You’re the best.”
A solemn wave seems to pour from him into the space between us and his eyes cast a sad glow onto the road ahead. What I said has clearly upset him and my heart flutters painfully with the need to know what.
For now, I’ll continue to live in a state of blissful ignorance because I know that whatever it is, he’ll talk to me about it later, as promised. Please, whatever it is, don’t let it be so bad that I can’t deal. Whatever powers are out there in the universe, give me the strength to handle this alongside my future husband. Don’t let me fail.
The drive is fairly long and I’m totally unsure of where we are. I wasn’t following road signs; I was too busy annoying the love of my life by poking him repeatedly whilst asking, “Are we nearly there yet?”
Also I was texting Sasha about the kids. She’s unresponsive and part of me wonders if they’ve killed her. It wouldn’t surprise me; my kids are vicious.
I miss them.
“Almost there,” he grins, breaking the short break of silence between us.
“How close is almost?” I ask, pressing my face up against the glass of the door window. The weather is lovely, the sun shining over vast amounts of countryside. Are we going for a picnic? Or a stroll? This is so frustratingly exciting!
Nathan switches off the air con and rolls down the windows with a flick of a button. The scent of fresh fields in full bloom assaults my nose in the best way. Regardless of the fact I’m sneezing, I’m still enjoying every second.
“That breeze is the best,” I sigh wistfully and relax back into my seat. “Right?”
“Most definitely,” Nathan grins, looking as relaxed as I feel.
We finally slow on the long road and I see a large white house in the distance. Horses canter and play around a field across from it.
They are beautiful. There’s a particular horse with a large white patch across its rear that calls to me the most.
Nathan pulls into the wide driveway by the even larger country house, mindful of the two cars already parked.
My heart begins to quicken, my palms tingling with excitement.
“What’s going on?” I ask when the front door of the home opens and an older man steps out, beaming from ear to ear.
Nathan, still grinning, opens his door and climbs out to greet the man. I don’t wait for him to assist me in exiting the vehicle; I’m too excited to find out what on earth is going on.
“Mr Weston.” The man takes my fiancé’s gloved hand for a brief moment before turning to me. I can tell he’s a grafter simply by the coarseness of the skin of his hand that envelops my own. “Soon to be Mrs Weston, am I correct?”
“Well if you were wrong you’d have made my mistress very uncomfortable,” Nathan deadpans. I roll my eyes and slap his arm before telling the man, “Just Gwen is fine.”
“I’m George; this here is my farm and those are my horses…”
I want to scream for him to get to the point but that would be rude.
“The stable help are ready for you both.” He leads us around the house to a large area hidden by tall trees.
Stable help? Now I’m even more excited.
