Page 84 of Wedding or Not

Our pictures are plastered everywhere else, so neither one of us had a problem with the resort’s request.

It has put a few demands on us through the week but nothing unreasonable for what we’re getting. And the rest of the time we’ve been able to lie on the beach, explore jungles and unique Caribbean towns, snorkel, and have a lot of sex.

Every day has been perfect, and there’s a weight in my gut that’s expecting all the new, special intimacy between us to change—to go away—when we get home.

Which is today.

Our flight leaves in a few hours, and we’ll be home in Blossom Park this evening.

Wes groans, holding on to a handful of my hair. “At least we’ll have the weekend before we really have to get to work again.”

My reluctance to return has nothing to do with work, so his words cause a small stab in my chest.

That happens sometimes. My insecurities didn’t all disappear because he’s been so warm and passionate this week.

Maybe this is a vacation thing.

Maybe he’ll go back to what he used to be when we next set foot in Blossom Park.

But maybe not.

I’m trying to do better and not manufacture sources of anxiety. I smile and press a few kisses against his chest before I pull away. “I guess I’ll take a shower.”

“Okay. That means I have until you’re done before I get out of bed.” He sounds deliciously lazy.

But I guess that means he’s not going to shower with me the way he’s done sometimes this week.

It doesn’t matter.

Today is a travel day. It’s not the end of everything.

And maybe the real life that comes next will be every bit as good as the honeymoon.

CHAPTER 28

My hopes start declining as we pull through the gates of Blossom Park and something obvious occurs to me that really should have crossed my mind before.

“What…?”

Wes glances over. “What, what?”

“We never talked about our living situation.”

“What are you talking about?”

He appears so confused it immediately rattles me, like maybe even the question is stupid. “We’re married now. We never talked about… I mean, are we going to try to live together?”

“Ah.” He’s not looking at me now. He’s staring ahead at the car in front of us who’s inching down the drive that winds to the parking lot. Probably going slow to admire the lush foliage in bloom along the route.

He doesn’t say any more, and neither do I. A full minute passes, and we still haven’t gotten to the turnoff to the parking lot.

“Why don’t we just stick to our own places?” Wes says at last, still not meeting my eyes. “That’ll be easier and less disorienting.”

Disorienting.

What a word to use.

“Okay.” My voice wobbles slightly, so it’s obvious I’m upset. “Won’t that look strange? I mean, if we’re married.”