“Of course it is.” I adjust myself and let her lead me down the stairs.
We eat plates full of tacos. Champagne is handed out. Speeches are made. Lil can hardly make it through hers without crying. Mom sits and talks to no one, then disappears into the house and doesn’t come back. We cut the gorgeous cake Ariana baked and decorated, anddo notsmash it in each other’s faces. She threatened me with a week’s worth of blue balls if I even thought about doing that.
Jimmy, the DJ, introduces us, and we open the dancing. I hold Ariana in my arms, and we sway to the music. It’s too easy to get lost in her eyes, her smile, and the feel of her body pressed against mine. Everything around us melts away. When the song ends, others join us on the dance floor. Marco appears at my elbow, claiming Ari’s hand for a father/daughter dance. I dance with Mia while Lil dances with my dad. As that song changes into the next, Lil yells, “Change places!” with a laugh.
For hours, music plays, and people dance. Any time Marco and Mia dance, they look like Gomez and a blonde Morticia.
I dance with my wife every chance I get. She and Lil dance together almost as often, but I don’t mind one bit. Ford rolls his eyes when they each grab a hand and drag him out onto the floor.
“Come on, Windstar.”
“A fucking minivan, Airhead?”
“What, do you not like minivans? Shit, guess it’s back to the drawing board for your next birthday present. Hey Sully, youknow where I can offload a purple minivan?” she asks as he dances by with Becca.
Sully cocks his head to one side. “Can we take it out to the desert and blow it up?”
Ariana’s eyes light up. Well, fuck. We have to make it happen, or the girls will do it themselves, and that’s just asking for trouble.
Once Ford’s on the dance floor, he’s all about it. At one point, he and Sully spin each other around, and the two of them lead the entire group in “The Macarena.” Even Parker joins in for a few songs.
As the sky darkens, the dancing goes on. Fairy lights glow above the dance floor. Once again, I have my arms around Ariana. “Don’t get me wrong, because I’m enjoying everything about this night, but I can’t fucking wait for it to end so I can see what you have on under this dress,” I whisper in her ear.
She blushes under the fairy lights. “Shit, I guess I shouldn’t have worn granny panties then.” I throw my head back, laughing. Then I dip her and press my lips to hers. My fucking smart-assed brat.
There’s a lightness in my chest. I could burst into a million pieces and float— like the dandelion fluff on my wife’s hip. Forever with her is my only wish.
When the night air turns chilly, she wears my jacket over her dress. The thing is huge on her, but damn if she doesn’t look like mine. The photographer snaps a few pictures of her that way. I sneak one with my phone and instantly set it as my background. I’ll never forget this day, but I want to savor every moment that I can.
Chapter 74
Challenge accepted
Luca
We finally call it a night, and I carry her over the threshold of the backdoor as she giggles. Ariana starts up the stairs while I stop to grab a couple flutes of champagne so we can make our own toast.
I open our bedroom door and freeze. She’s still wearing her wedding dress. I specifically asked her to so I could strip her out of it. But she’s traded her dancing heels for the sexiest white stilettos I’ve ever seen.
“You’re leaving those on,” I tell her, closing the door behind me. Her smirk tells me that was her plan all along. I set the champagne glasses down and close the distance between us. My lips crash into hers as I dig my fingers into her hair. I’ve wanted my hands there all day long but didn’t want to fuck it up.
Now, I fully intend to fuck it up. Pins fly everywhere as locks of hair fall to frame her face. I turn her around and start working on the row of buttons down the back of her dress. There’s approximately seven thousand of them. I nip at her neck with my teeth, then kiss my way down her back as her skin is exposed. When Iget to the last button, I help her step out of the dress before tossing it over a chair.
I have to catch my breath when she turns back to face me in her white strapless bra, white lace thong, and those pumps.
She’s beautiful.
Not in spite of her scars.
And not because of her scars.
She simply is. It’s effortless. She glows with it, like the sun and moon and all the stars live inside her. And maybe they do. She’s my world, my sky, my entire universe.
And if I tell her that right now, she’ll probably make a Uranus joke, so I’ll wait.
“Fuck, Ariana,” I groan. Her hands go to the buttons on my shirt, but still when she pushes it off my shoulders, exposing the tattoo I got this morning over my heart, covered in clear plastic film. It’s the note she left me on the mirror, ‘I fucking love you,’ complete with the heart and her name in her handwriting.
She looks up at me, and I’m lost in the love shining in her eyes. I kiss her again and walk her backward until her calves hit the edge of the bed, then I gently push her down onto it. Standing between her knees, I lean over to kiss her and unhook her bra before she lies back. Pressing my lips against her skin, I kiss my way down her body, stopping to give extra attention to her peaked nipples before continuing on, reaching her panties as I kneel at her feet. The lace is soaked. Her scent fills my lungs. I bask in the evidence of her arousal. The gasps and moans she makes as I lick her through the lace have me groaning in response. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”
