Also, it felt like she hadn’t seen Josh for days. Just a few stolen kisses. She missed him in a confusing, heavy hurt in the middle of her chest kind of way, even though he was close by. She found herself gazing at his profile and losing herself in thoughts of what else he could do with those straining biceps, and then tearing herself away from watching him do his job in the pit, lest anyone else find out their secret.
So now that the race was over, and half the team had left to go back to California, she could finally cut loose—with her boyfriend.
That’s how she’d started thinking about him in her head. It was girlish and simplistic. Idealistic, he would say, if she confessed. But then he would kiss her and whisper that she was his secret girlfriend, and it would feel so good it couldn’t possibly be bad.
She rented a room at a nice hotel on the strip, something more expensive than anyone who worked with Josh might stay at, and she texted him the room number.
Josh
Do I need a room card to get up there?
Monica
Left your name with the concierge. They’ll give you a key.
Her heart was in her throat as she waited for the sound of the lock whirring open. Then she ran to the door just in time for it to swing open, for him to brace his hand at the top of the doorframe and hold himself there. He absorbed the impact of her body as he used his free hand to catch the back of her head and make her be still.
So he could kiss her.
And kiss her.
He only let up when she was vibrating against him, and only long enough to get inside the door,. Then he picked her up and his mouth was on her again.
Endless kisses.
“Fucking missed you,” he growled as he laid her out on the bed. He’d showered, really well. Not a trace of grease left anywhere on his body, not that she’d mind. She had a lot of fantasies where his arms were streaked with a bit of something from the garage.
But tonight he smelled like soap and skin, all warm and fresh and very lickable.
“I have a bottle of champagne,” she panted between kisses.
That would be a theme of the next twelve hours. So much champagne. Kisses and bubbly in the room. Bubbly kisses in the shower, after the first, private celebration. Then a late night dinner, more bubbles free flowing, as Josh’s eyes got bright and his grin slid into a new gear. Cocky and shiny, from the kisses and the champagne and—okay, they might be drunk—the sexy as fuck way he kept licking his lower lip that made Monica want to drag him into a dark corner.
They celebrated her getting a gruff acknowledgment from her father that she’d made a difference on the social media team. They celebrated Josh getting a nice bonus, and two weeks of paid time off.
They celebrated her three-in-the-morning confession that she’d called him her boyfriend in her head all weekend. Josh told her he loved her, like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to say, and time stood still.
And then the celebration sped up in a dizzying kind of way.
At some point they celebrated it all—their love, their success, the best night ever—by getting a marriage license, trying desperately to keep straight faces.
And then they got married, the most epic celebration of all, giggling the whole time. As if they were now seventy percent effervescent bubbles of joy.
She chartered a private jet as a wedding gift. “Only the best for my husband,” she said as she twirled in front of the plane. “Let me take you to paradise for our honeymoon.”
When they were offered champagne on the plane, they declined.
“I want to be sober for every second of this part,” Josh said, tugging her into his lap.
His whole body was tense. Like maybe he was second guessing this plan as he sobered up.
She burrowed into his warmth, pressing her face into his neck. Breathed in that fresh, clean scent of his and absorbed the feeling of his pulse against her lips. “I’m going to be a very good wife,” she promised.
He laughed. “I’m not worried about that, princess. It’s only explaining this to your father that I’m worried about. And that’s on me, and being a good enough husband to you.”
Her husband.
It gave her a thrill beyond anything she’d ever imagined. “We’ll worry about that when we get back,” she said confidently, licking at a tender spot at the base of his neck.
