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“Gem. Are you almost ready?”
“Almost!” Her voice carries from our bedroom.
I know ‘almost’ means she’s not even close to being done. She’s been running around all day, making sure everything is ready for tonight. Said she didn’t want to leave it in the hands of a wedding planner.
Grabbing my beer, I head into our room. Gemma is standing in front of the mirror in only her robe. She hasn’t noticed me yet, finishing up her makeup. Not that she needs any.
Fuck, she is just as gorgeous as the day I met her.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow I’ll be her husband.
I’m the luckiest man in the world that she crashed into me, wheelbarrow full of horseshit and all.
“Why are you staring at me?” She turns to face me.
“You are not almost ready,” I laugh.
She tries to look angry but can’t. “I can’t help it. I want to look perfect for tonight.”
Closing the distance between the two of us, I pull her into my arms. She relaxes immediately.
“No one is going to look better than you. You’re the bride.”
“You have to say that.”
I spin her in my arms, dropping my forehead to hers. “There is no one more beautiful in the world than you, cowgirl. I can’t believe you said yes to me and we’re getting married tomorrow.”
Gemma drapes her arms over my shoulders, a soft smile on her red-painted lips. “About damn time.” She gives me a quick peck before pushing me back. “Now I need to finish getting ready, so we’re not late.”
“We can’t be late. We’re the couple of the hour, Gem.”
I don’t let go of her, my fingers digging into her waist. That tease of a kiss won’t do.
With all the lead up to the wedding, it’s been too long since I’ve been with Gemma. With one or both of us running around getting everything ready, we fall right to sleep every night.
But now that I have more than a minute with her? I want more.
A sly grin spreads across my face as I untie her robe. “If we’re going to be late, why don’t we make it worth it?”
“Blake…”
“It seems, my bride, that you need to relax a little.”
Dropping to my knees, I press a kiss onto the soft skin of her stomach.
“We really don’t have time for this.” Her voice is breathy as I trail my kisses lower.
I nip at the tender skin of her hip. “You don’t seem to be stopping me.”
In fact, her fingers find my hair, tightening to keep me in place.
“I guess I could do with a little relaxing.”
“These are new.”
