Catherine’s neck snaps in his direction. “What? We’re on a tight schedule, Bobby. You’ll see your soon-to-be bride tonightat the rehearsal dinner.”
“I want to see her now.”
That bold statement sends swoony butterflies fluttering in my stomach because I knew I loved Bobby before, but after last night, it’s like it’s triple-timed in measure.
I’m not sure how a man could become more attractive than he already was in my eyes, both physically and mentally; however, it’s happened to me.
Call it a post-marriage glow or the exciting future I have pictured in my head, but I could live in this kind of bliss for the rest of my life.
Is it reality?
Not sure.
But I’m really looking to find out where Bobby and I are at in five, ten, or fifteen years.
“Bobby,” Catherine coos gently, just as Vicki comes out with two plates of dark chocolate, whatever kind of cake it was. “We’re wrapping up here, and then we have Meirna’s final dress fitting at two. Then make-up at three?—”
“Are you telling me that my prestigious mother, who has organized more than three hundred events, can’t spare my wife for three minutes?”
Catherine bristles at the direct callout when Vicki stays out of it because she quickly retreats the moment the plates hit the table. “Make it quick.”
I don’t wait for Bobby or Catherine to say another word, pushing my seat back and joining him near the front of the bakery.
He steps out first, holds the door open for me, then lets it close with an annoyed thud.
Yep, Alan.
Turning around to face him, Bobby is right there. The coat to his suit is wrapped tightly around my shoulders, already heated from his warmth, when his hands encase my hips underneath it.
“Daydream.”
God, I love that new nickname.
With Bobby, it’s always been babe or baby—which is fine—but daydream makes me feel magical and unearthly.
Like a goddess, Bobby is going to worship for the rest of his life.
“Husband,” I return softly. “What happened?”
“Why are you doing this cake shit with my mother?”
I frown. “I told you this morning…she called me eighty times and sent several text messages about all the things we had to do today. We’ve had this planned before.” Bobby’s green eyes flick over my head, and he glowers. “You didn’t say you didn’t want me to come?—”
“You wanted an intimate wedding.” He drops his focus back on me, still giving nothing away to what he’s so upset about. “I have a surprise for you.”
I relax a little and narrow my eyes suspiciously. “Are we finally doing the cookie thing? Because if you’re going to suggest it, it’s too late. There is no way I’m baking over four hundred cookies in less than twenty-four hours.”
I wanted a cookie and milk bar instead of a ginormous wedding cake, but I’ll let you guess who shot that idea down quicker than a star.
Bobby’s hand glides dangerously close to gripping my ass before I prompt warningly, “Careful. I know your mother is watching us through the window.”
“And I would give a fuck because?”
I smile but furrow my brows because heknowswhy. PDA isnotacceptable in the eyes of his mother, and furthermore, so is interrupting her perfectly scheduled plans.
Not that she’d ridehimabout it, but she’d comment a few times about how I allowed it to happen.
“Bobby, your mother will strangle me with her pearls if she has to wait in there without me another minute. I’d like to still be breathing when I leave with her in the next twenty or so minutes.”
