***Alec***
The man across the street, walking his dog, was staring. Two cars had stopped, and the curtains in the front windows of several of her neighbors’ homes were pulled back to show curious faces. Adriane didn’t seem to notice, as though she’d gotten lost in my kiss.
I laughed and took her hand to run with her down the street toward the car. I couldn’t stop smiling. It felt odd on my face.
Quickly, I helped her into the car. Then I drove. I wanted to get home, to take her home. That was where the ring was. I wanted to give it to her, to see it on her hand. I wondered if she would remember it.
I pulled up to a stoplight. She leaned closer, and then we were kissing again. I let go of the wheel and held her.
A horn blew from behind us.
I refocused on driving, on remembering how to shift. She laughed.
***Adriane***
Ben was waiting for Hanna and me by the French doors. Outside was growing darker, except for the twinkle lights in the trees. It looked like millions of fireflies had assembled as guests.
Hanna walked out first. She’d fought me on being the maid of honor, insisting she was too old, but in the end she complied. She was my only female friend, the only one I wanted for the job.
The nerves hit me upon stepping onto the patio, upon seeing all the people watching me. It was only Vincent and the others, Mr. Bishop, and of course, the minister, but I hated being the center of attention. I focused on taking the steps with grace, on the feel of my arm in Ben’s. Everything was calm now. Dean had been convicted and sent to prison a few days before. All of it was over. Alec and I could concentrate on being together.
Alec was just a shadow with the sun setting directly behind him. As we approached, the details began to clarify, and I saw only him.
Ben placed my hand in his.
I barely registered the minister. I heard his words, clearly understood, but my gaze stayed on Alec. The promise was in more than just our words, the same that so many before us had repeated. It was in the sincerity in our eyes, in our voices, in the feel of our hands holding on to each other. It was honest, no reservations, no nerves. There were no secrets anymore. We meant our promises and trusted that the other felt just as strongly.
The minister said his final words, and Alec took a step closer.
His voice was soft, just loud enough for me to hear, no one else. “I promise to love you forever.” Then his lips were soft on mine.
Applause.
I was pulled into a hug—Hanna, of course. There were congratulations for Alec and hug after hug for me. The minister spoke quickly to Hanna and left. The congratulations continued. I tried shifting my way back to Alec. I didn’t want to let go of him. He was mine now. I wanted to be in his arms, to see the ring on his finger.
The crowd started to thin as Hanna returned from inside with a covered platter that smelled like the main course of lamb. Ben followed her back inside to help. We’d decided not to have the caterer serve. I didn’t want strangers around. I wanted it to feel like a family event, not a stiff and formal occasion. Everyone now remaining, except Mr. Bishop and the woman he’d brought, were here every day, shared their meals together. They were our family.
I finally reached Alec. He held me to his chest, and we didn’t let go. It felt impossible. We were married. I never had to leave him, or worry about not being able to keep him.
Then he stiffened.
A second later the others began moving toward the trees, toward the path that led from the other side of the house by the garage. It was too dark for me to see, though Alec obviously saw something.
“Vincent,” Alec ordered under his breath. Vincent was there immediately.
Alec turned to me. “It’s fine. I promise.” Then he stepped away. I managed to let go.
Vincent stood in front of me and a little to the side, as if trying to appear casual, enough that I was able to see a figure moving out of the darkness. Whoever he was, he was big, as tall as Alec and as thick as James. The only real sources of light came from inside the house and the lanterns on the low wall of the patio. Neither was strong enough to reach the man’s face. Anthony, Charlie, and James moved out of Alec’s way, just enough for him to be able to face the man squarely. Peripherally, I noticed Mr. Bishop step back to disappear into the shadows.
“How may I help you?” Alec said not too politely—and in German. I remembered only the basics from high school.
The man didn’t respond. Alec’s frame tightened, as if something in the man’s expression angered him. He shifted, directly into my line of sight, concealing me from view.
The man spoke. “Wir kamen gerade zurich inder Stadt an”—I understood the last part—“just came to say hello.” His tone was politely sneering.
Vincent took my hand to hold me in place. I hadn’t consciously taken the step.
“As you can see,” Alec said, “dassich im Augenblick Ziemlich beschaftigt bin.” It was driving me crazy that I remembered so little.
“Ich wollte Sie aufmerksam machen meiner Anwesenheit.” Just came to say hello.
I heard the slight waver in Alec’s tone—he was irate. “Ich lasse nicht Sachen die Weise, die my father tat. I have no notwendigkeit Ihrer bekanntschaft.”
The man nodded stiffly then turned to go. Anthony, Charlie, and James escorted him away while Alec watched after them. Alec looked like a pillar of cement.
Mr. Bishop appeared. “Go,” he said to Vincent.
Vincent went to Alec, who didn’t move except to speak, as if any kind of movement would launch him into attack. They spoke quietly. I was standing close and all the other sounds had been so thoroughly muted that I heard their conversation.
“Who’s at the gate?” Alec said.
“The new guy, Thomas, and Rick. They don’t know who he is. I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
“You couldn’t have possibly anticipated,” Alec said. “Nevertheless, I want them both gone. Stuff them in some store or an apartment complex as security.”
“They shouldn’t have let anyone through.”
Alec nodded. “I want Manuel here. Tell him there’s a bonus in it if he makes it here in fifteen minutes.”
“We can take the shift.”
Alec finally moved. He looked at Vincent. “No. Only until you can get it covered. Adriane wants all of you here.”
“Yes, sir.” Vincent pulled his phone from his breast pocket as he walked through the house.
Alec turned to me. I made sure I didn’t look scared or nervous, maybe just curious.
He smiled a little, the forced kind.
I held my hand out to him, and his smile was more natural as he came back to me.
“That’s it,” I said. “You’re at your limit.”
He tilted his head curiously.
“That’s the most I’m allowing you to be away from me for the next two weeks.”
“I can live with that.”
Mr. Bishop drifted away from my side.
“Do you want to tell me?” I asked.
“How much did you understand?”
“He came to say hello, and something about your father.”
“He’s just an old associate of my father’s. Just wanted to make his presence in the city known—his temporary presence.”
I was sure there was a lot more to it, but I let it go. How bad could it be? Alec was legitimate, and of no concern to one of his father’s old connections.
“You must be hungry,” he said. “I doubt you ate lunch.”
“That’s right. You need your strength.”
He grinned wickedly, and led me to the tables set up on the patio.
The meal was slow, the kind where people’s food grows cold because they’re talking too much, sharing stories, telling jokes. Alec and I mostly just listened. His hand was on my thigh during most of the meal.
We did the traditional wedding musts. Alec led me through the first dance. We cut the cake—and both kept our promise of not smashing it into each other’s face. We danced a little more, and I handled the awkwardness of dancing with other men. Even Charlie danced with me. He seemed to have gotten over his concerns. I decided I liked him, in spite of, or maybe because of, his swagger. He was funny, sometimes unintentionally.
Alec finally reclaimed me. “Hello again, Mrs. Kaden.”
My smile overtook my face.
As we danced, we drifted to the side, away from the others, closer to the doors.
He murmured in my ear. “I think we can sneak away now.”
I held on to his hand, and we slipped into the house and up the stairs.
Our bedroom door clicked shut, and he pressed me against it. He held my face gently in both hands. The kiss intensified, slowly, as if we were trying to memorize every second.
It felt more real, so much more than all of our playing and making out. There was no tension, no secrets to hide. There was no stopping tonight.
His mouth trailed down my shoulder.
“It’s going to be better than your dreams,” I murmured. I was determined. His dreams had continued, and so had the pain; I saw it no matter how much he tried to hide. I was going to take that away.
He smiled against my skin.
He slid my dress strap to drape against my arm. I pulled at his jacket, and he let go of me just long enough to allow it to slip off. I started on his buttons. His shirt pushed to the sides, I ran my hands across his chest and down his stomach, moving lower. My descent paused with a knock on the door—the quiet yet hugely disruptive, annoying knock.
His lips stayed at my neck as he reached. I heard the bolt turn. Finally, a reason to use the bolt.
I started to laugh, but the taste of him moved my thoughts back on track. He lifted me, arms around my waist and mine at his neck. I couldn’t fathom how he could walk while kissing me like that.
My feet found the floor by the bed, and his hands found the zipper at the back of my dress. The slight sound went on forever. His hands followed it back up to move the other strap, and my dress fell to the floor. His lips brushed my shoulder. “Je t’aimerai toujours.”
My legs threatened to give out. I had to hold on to him to stay on my feet.
“You like that,” he murmured, “when I speak French.”
I pulled his lips to mine.
My hand drifted lower to find the front of his pants. I managed not to be too distracted by what I felt there, and unbuttoned and unzipped one-handed.
“Very impressive,” he said. Then he was silent as I slid my hand inside. His skin was so soft, like the most perfect vellum covering steel.
I completed the removal of his pants, but he lay me in bed before I was able to pull off his shirt. Not allowing him to be more than an inch away, I kept his hand to bring him with me.
He hovered over me and touched my face. “My wife,” he murmured.
I held his hand to my warm skin. “Yours.”
He was kissing me again.
The rest of my undergarments were lost in the sheets, and he pressed himself to me while I hugged him with my legs. I could feel him rubbing against me. It was almost unbearably pleasant. I was ready for him. The sensation was almost uncomfortable—like that night, the night we stopped.
He paused, resting on his elbow, as his hand drifted from my face to lightly trail across the rigid peak of my breast. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked.
“I want you, Alec.”
That made him find my lips.
His kiss was deep, and he pressed against me. But still he paused. I didn’t know why he hesitated—to make sure I was ready or to drive me crazy. He was succeeding in both.
I slid my legs along his hips, pulling him closer. His hand trailed down my side to my thigh, holding it to him. He adjusted himself just right and whispered in my ear, “I love you,” as he slowly slid into me.
He stopped at the soft intake of my breath.
His lips were at my ear. “Are you all right?” He sounded like he thought he’d hurt me.
“Yes,” I forced out through my breathing. I wanted to beg him not to stop.
He continued to move, careful and…perfect.
The connection, it was powerful. I hadn’t thought I could feel closer to him. It felt like we were the same person. We moved together. We breathed at the same heavy pace. We were melting into one.
“Alec,” I sighed, my hands at his back feeling his muscles flex as he pressed. His breath warmed my already hot skin, and I changed to panting as I tried to find oxygen. I could barely remember how to expand my lungs. My entire being was focused on a different part of my body.
I’d never felt this. It wasn’t anything like I’d thought. I knew it would be feel nice, but it wasn’t just a mere tingling of pleasure. It was as if the chemical makeup of my lower half was morphing into something liquid, molten. My head rolled back, body arching, and he lifted just enough to watch as I moaned his name. My lava insides expanded like an eruption and were extinguished almost immediately as he grunted softly, his body stiffening, pelvis arching.
He slowed and then stopped to rest his forehead on my shoulder. We silently absorbed the perfect contentment.
“You were right,” he said. “It was better than my dreams.”
“You doubted?”
“Never again.”
I lifted his chin. “I have more to prove.” Once was definitely not enough. We rolled over to begin again.