Beth gave a small, quick nod—her head bobbing up and down with more emotion than confidence. But it was enough.
Bryce’s fingers moved to the two delicate buttons at the nape of her neck, undoing them slowly, carefully. Once the halter came loose, he pressed a kiss the newly bared skin at the base of her neck.
Then, Bryce began to lower the zipper, pressing soft kisses down the slope of her neck as the fabric gave way. Goosebumps chased his touch. He traced a single finger lightly along her spineand smiled when more appeared.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?” he whispered, his voice husky, his breath warm against her ear.
“No…?” Beth’s voice wavered—more question than answer.
Bryce chuckled and gently turned her to face him. “In that case,” he said with a grin, “let me tell you.”
He leaned in, murmuring something meant only for her.
Her blush bloomed instantly. She reared back slightly, eyes wide—a flicker of hesitation chased by something bolder.
Then, pointing a finger at him, she narrowed her eyes. “If this is one of your double entendre things… you are so sleeping on the floor.”
Bryce threw his head back in laughter—deep, full, and unfiltered. When he finally caught his breath, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, peppering kisses across her cheeks, forehead, and jaw.
Beth giggled, breathless, caught between flustered and completely undone by him.
“Bryce!”
He slowed, one kiss landing softly at the corner of her mouth, then stilled with his forehead resting against hers as he gradually loosened his hold.
They both drew in a breath.
And then—Beth felt it. The soft rustle of fabric. The whisper of silk against skin.
The room went quiet.
Her eyes widened as the dress slipped from her frame, sliding effortlessly down to pool at her feet.
She didn’t move.
Neither did he.
After a beat, he lifted a hand and gently traced the edge of her cheek with his thumb, his expression soft—steady, reverent—as if daring to look anywhere else might shatter the moment.
For a heartbeat, they simply stood there. Silent. Still. Caught between their past and the desire threading through every breath they shared.
Then Bryce spoke, his voice low and sure. “You’re beautiful.”
Beth looked up at him with wide, hope-filled eyes.
“No teasing,” he whispered. “No double entendres. Just promises.”
“Promises?” she asked, voice barely a breath.
Bryce pulled her fully against him, his tone quiet but certain.
“Yes. I promised you a wedding night you’d never forget—and I plan to keep that promise.”
And he did.
Beth knew nothing on earth was perfect—but when she and Bryce talked about their honeymoon, that’s the word they keptusing. Perfect. Bryce had rented a private yacht, they’d swam, eaten too much, laughed, and discovered beauty in the Caribbean—and in each other.
The morning after they returned, Bryce left early for work. Kim showed up not long after, coffee in hand and a grin that said she wanted all the details.
