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She was breathing hard by the time they finished, and she was waiting. Waiting. Because it was going to come.
“You may kiss the bride,” the pastor said.
And she waited to see what he would do. But the wait wasn’t very long. Because he didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her up against him. He was so hard. Like a mountainside. Like a whole mountain range.
And then he brought his head down, and kissed her.
His lips were hot and firm, and even though it wasn’t a deep kiss, wasn’t an intense one, there was a certainty to it that wasn’t like anything she’d ever experienced before.
Not that she had a vast array of kissing experience.
He was only the second guy she’d ever kissed.
Guy.
Angus McCloud wasn’t...aguy.
He was aman.
Not a rock. Or a mountain.
Aman.
Solid and unyielding and warm.
And then it was just over.
And she was...she was not happy. She was confused. How could she have this little tiny sliver of what he was, of whatkissinghim was? It left her with so many questions. Why hadn’t he at least...why hadn’t he let it go on longer?
She wanted to explore it. The texture and taste and feel of him.
“Alaina,” he said. “Pay attention.”
“Oh,” she said.
They were being presented. And everyone was cheering. And then the music and the food was going, and the wedding was...over. Well, the wedding proper anyway.
They were married. The pastor pulled her and Gus aside, and they signed the license. “I’ll file it tomorrow. Thanks for having me out for the wedding.”
“Yeah,” she said.
Well, okay, now they were married. Totally married. All signed and everything.
And she was...
She suddenly felt light-headed.
“Alaina?”
She swayed, and Gus picked her up, and parted the crowd of people, setting her down in the chair. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she said faintly.
He got down on his knee, and held her hand in his. “Mite,” he said. “You don’t look so good.”
“I’m so overwhelmed,” she whispered.
“It’s all right,” he said. “We’re the same as we were before.”
