But I only have this little sliver of time with my bestie, and I want to take every moment I can get before we fly out tomorrow.
“Get your head out of the gutter, Stella.”
Lucas chimes in, his twang thick. “I like her head in the gutter.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Darcy
Ilove you.
I love you.
I am so freaking in love with you, Hayden.
Sweat trickles down my back, my legs, my unmentionables… It’s almost enough to persuade me to trade my suit and tie in for shorts and a tank top.
Though I doubt anyone would want to see my pasty skin on full display like that. I’d outshine the Fourth of July fireworks display happening in a few hours here in D.C. On top of that, it’s not socially acceptable to wear shorts and a tank top to a charity ball.
And I’d like to look nice when I tell my wife I’m enamored with her soul tonight.
“If you ever work up the courage,” I mutter to myself. Because telling her I love her means telling hereverything.Over the past two weeks, I’ve thought long and hard about fully committing to our marriage, and,well, I’m ready.
I want her to be mine in every single sense of the word. I could lose this campaign and my business could go under, but I wouldn’t bat an eye as long as I have Hayden to shower sunshine on my dreariest days.
Every date, every lingering kiss, every shared little secret…
The woman carries her ghosts like weightless tethered beings whereas I carry mine like a bag of bricks. I want to take hers and cut the bond just as she’s been unloading my bag one brick at a time.
“There you are.” Hayden slides her arm around my waist, a gesture that simultaneously brings about feelings of peace and turmoil. Peace because she feels like home and turmoil because I was already burning alive, and her presence seems to raise the temperature a few more degrees.
I glance down at my beautiful wife and smile. She’s wearing a long, fitted, red gown with a slit on one side that reaches just above her knee. Her long leg sticks out of the dress and her calf is accentuated by a strappy and sparkling silver stiletto heel.
“Eyes up here, Killjoy.”
My eyes roam back up from her feet, her legs. I can’tnotnotice the way the dress hugs her hips. It’s sleeveless but completely covers her front and ties around her neck. Very classy.
Very sexy.
“I am unbelievably glad you are my wife,” I say when I lock eyes with Hayden. Her smile is breathtaking.
“But we are only technically dating at this point.” She winks. “So no handsy stuff or looking at me like you want to do married people stuff—and no, not the cuddling type. Too tempting.”
I groan and clutch my chest, acting on dramatic tendencies that seem to come out when I’m with Hayden. “But wearelegally married. And you look like, well, a divine princess tonight.”
“You don’t look too bad yourself.” She slips her fingers through mine.
I roll my eyes. “What a compliment.”
She chuckles and begins pulling me toward the entrance to the Fourth of July charity ball. The only reasons I agreed to make an appearance at this ball were because the donations will go to group homes, it will raise awareness for foster care reform, and many people are using my networking app, COFFEE, and I’d like to see how it plays out. I haven’t gotten to interact with my app as much these days due to running for president, but it’s doing as good as ever.
So here I am. Typically, I run far away from anything involving dancing.
And if I know Hayden, which I think I do by now, she will force me to dance.
It’s not that I can’t dance; it’s that I don’t like to dance.
But the gleam in her eyes as she turns to face me after we enter the ballroom says I’m not getting out of here tonight without at least one dance.
