She smiles. “I can’t wait to see it.”
“Here you are, Mr. Arbuckle. Your room number is on theenvelope. You’ll take the main elevator to the thirty-first floor. We hope you enjoy your stay here at the Bellagio.” She slides an envelope to me.
“Thank you,” Brooke and I say together.
As we walk to the elevator, hand in hand, I look at her face. “You okay? We don’t have to do anything. We can just hang out or even go to sleep if you’re tired.”
She looks up at me with heat in her eyes. “I meant what I said earlier, husband.”
“I’m just making sure. And just to be clear on my end”—I lean down so people walking around us can’t hear me—“I can’t wait to get that little dress off and devour every perfect inch of your body.” I kiss her cheek.
She shivers.
I push the elevator call button, and we step in. I watch the buttons light up as we climb.
Within minutes, we’re on our floor. When the doors open, I place my hand on her lower back and lead her out first.
“What’s the room number?” she asks.
“It’s 3149.”
“49! That’s your jersey number! How funny!”
“Oh shit. I guess it’s meant to be, huh?” I wink at her.
“Here it is.” She points to the plaque on the wall next to the door.
I scoop her up into my arms, and she wraps her arms around my neck to hold on. I tap my key against the keypad, and when the lock beeps, I open the door, then push it closed with my foot once we’re inside.
The room is quiet compared to the busy street below. Lights glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“This is so pretty, Silas. Thank you for doing this.” She turns my face to hers and kisses me.
When she pulls away, I set her on her feet. “Anything for you.”
She studies me for a minute. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Hell yeah, I do.” I kiss the tip of her nose.
She smiles as she kicks off her shoes. “Ahh, that feels so good. I don’t understand how women can stand to wear heels. I mean, I know they look good, but my feet hate me right now.”
She turns to face me, and we stand there for a second, thewifeandhusbandsettling between us.
“Well, you said you wanted the title,” she says lightly. “Guess you could say this escalated quickly.” She holds up her hand and twists her ring.
I can’t help but laugh as I step closer, crowding her space until her back touches the window. “Maybe not the one I had in mind originally, but the meaning of it is all the same. I’m yours, Brooke.” I brush my knuckles down her cheek.
Her breath hitches when my hands find her waist. “To think it all started with a kiss cam.”
“Nah, for me, it started way before then,” I murmur, dipping my head to kiss her slower this time. Like I’m not in a rush. Because we have all night.
Her fingers slide into my hair as mine trace the curve of her back, following the smooth line of skin the silver dress doesn’t cover.
She breaks the kiss and exhales against my mouth. “Silas, we’re really married.”
I smile, my lips brushing hers. “We really are.”
“How …” she starts. “I mean, how long ago did it start for you?”
