A Wedding in Maine Page 2

  Slowly, I balanced myself on an elbow and held my left hand out. My pulse was racing. He slid the ring on my finger reverently, and I held my breath as I stared down at it, wiggling my finger experimentally. It fit me perfectly. Of course.

  Jeremy would have made sure of that.

  My boyfriend—fiancé—was nothing if not a perfectionist.

  I didn’t say anything, mostly because I was filled with so much emotion I could barely breathe. It was a weird mixture of excitement and hope, with a healthy dash of reality. The idea that my father could have loved my mother enough to give her a ring like this was unsettling. He never talked about her much while I was growing up. What had happened to make them fall apart? And, more importantly…would something like that happen to me and Jeremy?

  There wasn’t much that scared me. Give me bullets flying at my head or a murderous drug cartel, and I did what I had to do to survive. I fought back until I won. But the idea of loving and losing Jeremy? Yeah. That scared me more than anything.

  “Hey.” He caught my chin. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly, curling my hand into a fist and resting it back on the carpet. “Nothing’s wrong at all.”

  He hesitated, before lowering himself back onto me, propping himself up on his forearms to keep his weight off me. He cupped my cheek, resting his thumb on the bottom of my chin. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. Not anymore, Chels. If you’re not ready, we can just take it off and go back to—”

  “I’m ready,” I interrupted, resting a hand on his heart. It sped up under my touch, like it always did. I loved that. Loved how he held nothing back from me.

  “If you’re sure.”

  I trailed my hand down his chest, over his abs, and teased his impressive bulge, straining against his jeans to be set free. I was the perfect girl for the job. “I’m very sure.”

  Eyes darkening with desire, he slid his hand under my butt, pulling me against his erection possessively, his grip unyielding yet gentle. “Now. Where were we…?”

  I closed my fingers over his hard length, squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure. I wanted to make him as crazy as he made me. “Right. Here.”

  He growled and slammed his mouth down on mine, taking my breath away in the most delicious way possible. From the second he kissed me, everything he did was calculated to drive me closer to the edge. He was a mad scientist, and I was his willing test subject. A fingernail dragged across my nipple as he took off my shirt and bra. A squeeze on my butt as he removed my pants. A brush of his fingertips across my clit as he peeled my panties down my legs. Every few seconds, a torturous stoke of his fingers on my overheated skin.

  By the time he had me naked, I was a trembling, tangled ball of impatient need, and there was only one cure for that. Jeremy fricking Holland.

  When I gripped his shirt, he allowed me to end the kiss long enough to tear it over his head, and then we were kissing again as I undid his jeans. The second I had them pulled down, he lifted himself up and kicked out of them. Then he was blessedly naked.

  I grinned against his mouth. “I see it’s a no underwear day.”

  He chuckled. It was the sexiest sound I ever heard. He occasionally went without boxers, because it was a way “to keep me guessing all day long.” And it worked. Many quickies had started so I could satisfy my curiosity. I lifted my chin, seeking another kiss, but instead Jeremy lowered himself down my body, leaving a trail of love bites as he made his way to my belly. When he nipped the skin directly over the small patch of curls between my legs, I closed my eyes.

  “Chelsea…” He caught my hand, the one with the ring, and entwined his fingers with mine. “I love you so damn much.”

  Before I could say I love you, too, his mouth was on me, and two fingers of his free hand thrust inside me. I was beyond words or thoughts, and wasn’t capable of anything more than a strangled groan. I closed my thighs on either side of his head, lifting my hips and moving against him with a frantic need I didn’t bother to hide.

  There were no secrets between us.

  Every nerve in my body pulled taut until I came with crystal clear clarity. Pleasure rolled over my body, making my limbs weak. I was breathing heavily as he lifted my leg fluidly, resting my ankle against his shoulder, and thrust deep inside me. It felt so good that I legit screamed his name. Just like he’d wanted.

  Smirking, he lowered his hand to my mouth, and covered it with a questioning brow. I nodded, because there was no way I was going to be quiet tonight, and we had guests. Grunting, he moved, driving me insane with so much pleasure I was sure I was going to die. I lost track of how many times he made me come, but when he pressed a finger against my clitoris as he drove inside me a final time, I came in tandem with him, crying out against his hand as he collapsed on top of me with a long, dragged-out groan.

  In this moment, life was the best it had been in…well, ever.

  Being in love might be corny and cliché, but it was also pretty fricking awesome. Every dark moment, every shitty experience, every bleeding cut life had given me, had all been worth it because it brought me here, to Jeremy and the bright future ahead of us. Right now, life couldn’t get any better—

  But then there was a crash outside the door, and we both froze.

  Chapter 4

  Jeremy was instantly up on his feet, tossing a blanket over my naked body, and had stepped into his pants before I could even blink. There were those ninja DEA moves I’d almost forgotten about. He started for the door. After glancing at me to make sure I was covered, he opened the door to the kitchen. “Hello? Mr. Walters?”

  As soon as he closed the door, I yanked my shirt over my head and pulled my pants on. By the time the door opened again, I was dragging my hands through my hair, trying to mold it into the “messy beach waves” style rather than the “wild bedroom sex” look I was currently rocking. I failed miserably.

  Jeremy shut the door and leaned against it, dragging a hand down his face as he let out a small laugh. “False alarm. No one was out there.”

  I walked over to him, my bare feet silent on the carpet. “I swear I heard something.”

  “I did, too, but I found a box of cereal on the floor in front of the fridge. Maybe it fell?” He shrugged, reaching out one arm to put a hand on my hip and tug me closer.

  “Maybe…” I could have sworn the sound was louder than cardboard hitting tile. You know what they say: you’re not paranoid if they really are out to get you. In my experience, someone was always out to get me. Why should that be any different, simply because I was happy now? “The kitchen door was still locked?”

  “Yep. And you know you checked the front door. You always do.” Jeremy pulled me into his arms reassuringly, my hands sliding along the bare skin of his back. “We’re alone, Chels.”

  Logically, I knew he was right, but a tendril of a memory from my past kept sneaking its way into my mind, rousing my worry. “Did you check the windows, too?”

  “Yep. All secured.” Jeremy walked me backward, guiding me to our bedroom, but I was unable to shake the uneasiness creeping up my spine. “There’s no one back here but you and me, and that’s the way I like it.”

  “Do you now?” I knew he was trying to reignite the celebratory mood, so I did my best to let my unsettled emotions go. Raising my arms to drape them around his neck, I sidled closer.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, his voice dropping sexily low as he slid his hands over my butt, caressing it seductively.

  In the next moment, we were making out again. We headed back to the bedroom and by the time we came back up for air, I was completely spent and satisfied. We curled up in bed together, my head on his shoulder, and my left hand on his heart. With a sigh, he played with my hair like he always did before he fell asleep. I stared at the motionless blades of the ceiling fan as I tried to stay in the moment.

  He stopped playing with my hair so he could trace the cut of the diamond in my ring, and my heart warmed at the soft, almost
reverent, way he looked at it. My eyelids lowered, and I yawned, shifting around until I found the perfect spot, curled up against his body. The steady thump of his heartbeat coaxed me into a state of relaxation.

  “What do you think about a winter wedding?” he asked, his voice rumbly and low, disrupting the haze of near-sleep that had settled over me like a warm blanket.

  “Huh?” I was normally a night person, but my stomach was growling so hard I couldn’t think. It had been a long day, filled with excitement and lots of sex.

  I got up and headed to the living room, where our Chinese food was still ready for us.

  Jeremy followed me in and kept the conversation going. “Like, February,” he said slowly. “Maybe…February 11th?”

  I popped a piece of chicken in my mouth and turned so I could see his face. “Of next year, you mean?”

  “No. Like…in two months.” Jeremy smiled as his fingertips brushed my bare shoulder, lost in a dream world where weddings were magically pulled together in a few weeks. “I want to marry you, Chels. What’s the point in planning some huge, elaborate wedding when between the two of us, we have one family member to invite?”

  I choked on a laugh, because, God, he was right. His parents were dead and he didn’t have any siblings or extended family. I only had my brother and my incarcerated father—who wouldn’t have been invited no matter what his current legal status was. “Wow. We’re pathetic,” I said. “We’re only going to have one person at our wedding.”

  He laughed, touching the tip of my nose playfully. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, frowning, pushing his finger away.

  “There’s your father. I suppose we could wait for him to get released, so he can walk you down the aisle.” He studied me. “If you want him to.”

  My father and I…we had a difficult relationship, to put it lightly.

  Johnny O’Kane believed you looked out for your family, and took advantage of everyone else. When he bothered to be around at all, he’d raised Paul and me to follow in his footsteps. With me, it didn’t take, and I became an assistant DA in Miami instead. I didn’t want to follow his criminal career path. So the idea of him walking me down the aisle, like a normal dad, didn’t exactly fill me with the warm and fuzzies. In fact, it made me queasy. “No. No way.”

  “Okay,” he said, smiling at me. “Then we don’t wait. We do it our way at the courthouse with the two of us and Paul.”

  And that’s when I realized there was a part of me—a small, long-denied part of me—that did stupidly want the fairy-tale wedding. I wanted to walk down the aisle toward Jeremy. I wanted to see him waiting for me with a big, sappy grin. And maybe, just maybe, I’d make him cry with the sheer force of my beauty. That small part of me was loud, but I tried my best to ignore it as it wept into its imaginary bouquet, all alone at the back of the imaginary aisle I’d never walk.

  That version of me was annoying, unrealistic, and soft.

  A courthouse wedding was easy, cheap, and practical. Surely it was the best way to go. Right?

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  After we finished eating, we laid back down, and I rested my head on his shoulder again. I’d been quiet ever since he suggested the courthouse wedding, and I could tell he was curious as to why, but he kept silent, letting me work through it. My engagement ring caught the light of the bedside lamp, and I closed my eyes. As I drifted off to sleep in my fiancé’s arms, an idea…a fricking crazy idea…popped inside my mind. Knowing he was almost asleep, I whispered, “On second thought, I might want a different wedding. Maybe something involving the inn. Wanna talk about it tomorrow morning?”

  “Of course. It’s you and me, Chels, you and me.”

  As sleep beckoned, visions of poufy white dresses, delicate pink flowers, and Jeremy’s proud smile at the altar danced in my head. Okay, yes, it was all sappy and corny, but I’d just gotten engaged. If there was ever a time to dream of a fairy tale and a happy ending, it was today. The strains of the “Wedding March” was my lullaby as I sank into slumber.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning, I cracked open the window in the kitchen to let in the smell of the brisk ocean breeze. I liked cold, liked the way it opened up your lungs and froze the tip of your nose until you couldn’t feel it anymore. I held a full mug of steaming caramel coffee, inhaled its fresh aroma, and let my eyes close in relaxation. This was my favorite time of day, early in the morning when no one else was awake, before I had to worry about cooking breakfast for the guests.

  My habit of waking early in the morning had started back when I was a kid. It wasn’t an enjoyable choice, not back then, but if I wanted to eat a healthy breakfast and pack school lunches for me and Paul, I had to do it myself. My father, if he was around, would still be asleep and his “business associates” would all be gone. The house would be quiet. Peaceful.

  I learned to treasure those moments of peace.

  There was a faint clink as I readjusted my grip on the mug and I glanced down. My engagement ring. Excited butterflies took off in my stomach, because the crazy ideas I’d had last night before falling asleep had hatched into a fully developed plan overnight. The corner of my mouth tipped up into an involuntary smile. I still couldn’t believe Jeremy proposed…or that I’d said yes so readily. If I was dreaming, don’t pinch me. I never wanted to wake up again.

  I preferred this happy oblivion to cold hard reality, anyway.

  Jeremy came into the kitchen, yawning and running his hands through his mussed hair. “Morning, sunshine.”

  “Good morning.”

  “The Walters got an early start. They decided to go hiking, and watch the sun rise over the ocean. Won’t be back until dinnertime.” He headed over to the coffee machine. “They left a note on the check-in desk. I saw it when I got the paper.”

  “Oh. Good.” I pressed a hand to my fluttering stomach. “That gives us time to talk about the wedding.”

  “Yup.” He took a sip of his coffee, cursing under his breath because it was too hot—duh—and then mumbled, “I should probably make this an Irish coffee.”

  My fiancé, folks, the comedian innkeeper. “Do whatever you want, but then get your butt over here. We have to talk.”

  “Last time you had that look in your eye, I ended up on the roof, early in the morning, ripping off shingles.” He topped off his coffee, avoiding the whiskey, and settled across from me. He rested his foot on the bottom rungs of my chair, in between mine, like he did every morning. “What’s up?”

  “I was thinking.…We fell in love here. Rediscovered each other here. True, we slept together that one time when we were younger, but when we first made love again, it was right here in this inn.”

  Jeremy cocked his head toward the front of the house, where the stairs led up to my old bedroom. “I know. I was there. It was one of my finest efforts.”

  I rolled my eyes at his cheesy humor. “This is our home. Our life. Our everything.” I took a deep breath and held it in, trying to calm my racing heart.

  He stared at me. “I’m getting nervous. Why are you saying all this? If you changed your mind…”

  “I want a real wedding. A fancy one. And a gorgeous wedding dress, all lacy and fluffy, with a long veil.” I blurted out. “And flowers. Lots of flowers.”

  He blinked at me in surprise. I think he would have looked less shocked if I told him I thought high heels were the greatest human invention. “What?”

  “I’m saying…I want the wedding. And we should have it here, in the inn. A huge, lavish, affair. And we should invite the entire town to see it all.”

  “Funny,” he said, chuckling.

  I said nothing. He’d realize I was serious eventually.

  He made a sudden choking sound, before lowering his mug with a frown. He checked out the room, as if he thought I had a hidden camera pointed at him or something. “Wait. You’re being serious?”

  “Yes.” I reached across the table and caught his
hand. “I know it’s silly, but I want a real wedding ceremony and reception.”

  “It’s not silly at all,” he said quickly. “Anything you want, it’s yours. You know that. I just didn’t think you’d want to do all that elaborate stuff.”

  “It’s going to be time-consuming,” I admitted. “It’s completely out of our comfort zone, having the wedding here, but that’s how we roll. We do crazy stuff and hope it works out, and so far it has. We already have honeymooners staying with us. Why not do a big, elaborate wedding to show the locals how amazing the inn would be as a venue?”

  He cocked his head. “Wait. You want to push the inn as a wedding venue?”

  “Weddings. Bar mitzvahs. Formal events.”

  His eyes lit up with understanding. “So this is basically a marketing pitch.”

  I looked away before grabbing hold of my courage with both hands. “Look, I know I’m not normally one for the girly stuff, but when I was a little girl, I imagined getting married. Every girl wants that one special day where you get to leave your ordinary life behind and become a princess. I used to go through my parents’ wedding album, dreaming over all the photos, until my father caught me one day and, well…”

  The table suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the room and Jeremy reached over to take my hand, his thumb brushing my engagement ring. My mother’s ring.

  “That’s how I recognized the ring. And the fact that you actually found it, it’s like a sign. The beginning of a fairy tale, you know? Getting to showcase the inn, it’s an added bonus.” My heart sped up with excitement. “We’ll invite the town here. Show them what we can do. Blow them away. Cement ourselves as a premier party location. Book a bunch of weddings. Easy peasy.”

  He frowned. “But neither of us has any experience party-planning, and two months is hardly enough time to pull off the wedding you’re suggesting. I get your thought process, and I want to make this happen for you, but we don’t need to kill ourselves for a winter wedding. I mentioned that before you told me all this. If we’re going to do this, and do it right, then we need to take our time and make it perfect.”