swirled around his already
overflowing heart.
“All right,” she answered. “I promise.” Tossing a sweet,
private smile over her shoulder, she added, “You should try being on this side
of all those buttons.”
A tangle of emotions sprang up inside Brett. Not the least of
these was desperation, for he was desperate to be inside her—had been since he
was about sixteen and had come to understand the glory that would be. There was
love, too, inside him, and overwhelming tenderness for this infinitely precious
woman who was now finally, truly and forever his wife.
The last button finally gave way, and he spun her slowly,
affectionately, so he could gaze into those flower-blue eyes and bask in the
devotion they showered over him.
“I love you, Ester. I know I’ve said that a hundred times over,
but it’s true, always has been. There hasn’t been a moment, not one, when I
haven’t felt that way.” In awe, as he was, his voice sounded raspy, like a wheel
needing grease. The music from below filtered in, and he shook his head. She was
giving up so much, while he wasn’t. “We don’t have to leave here. I’ll—”
Her smile grew as she placed four fingers against his lips. “I
love you, Brett,” she said, sternly, boldly, as those blue eyes captured his. “I
have for years and years. And yet, in all those years, I never took into
consideration all the concessions you made for me.” Her hand slid across his
cheek. “I want to go to Montana. With all my heart.”
She could never know how beautiful she looked right then. Her
eyes had always told him exactly what she was feeling, thinking. Five years ago
they’d held a fear he couldn’t fathom, but right now, besides love and devotion,
they held truth, and his own smile grew as he recognized excitement. For the
future. For Montana.
He picked her up and spun her around the room until they were
both dizzy and laughing loudly enough the people below most likely heard. As he
set her down, she cupped his jaw. “I’ve wanted you to do that since the moment
you arrived home.”
“Well, why didn’t you tell me that, Mrs. Richards?” He picked
up and spun her again, kissing her this time.
She was the one to break the kiss. “I’ve wanted to be called
that for so many years,” she said as he set her down and her fingers started
unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ve even practiced writing it. Over and over
again.”
He caught her chin, dazzled by the smile on her lips. “You
wanted to be twirled around, and called Mrs. Richards. What else have you
wanted?”
Her grin turned into that tempting smirk as she took a step
back and dropped her shoulders, one at a time, to let the dress fall away. As
the material, yards and yards of it, pooled around her feet, she asked, “What do
you think?”
Brett became speechless, a touch dumbfounded. He’d unbuttoned
the dress, kissed bare skin, but hadn’t realized… “You haven’t been wearing
anything beneath—”
“Nope.” Stepping out of the folds, she reached down and pulled
the white slippers off her feet. “Not even socks.”
“Aw, woman,” he replied, resting his hands on the perfect
slopes of her slender shoulders. “You certainly are something.” His hands slid
down her arms and then back up the satin skin of her sides until his palms
cupped the sides of her breasts and the pads of his thumbs found the nipples.
“And the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her beauty did amaze him, and he hoped she’d never guess how
nervous he was. Not at taking her, but at being all she deserved.
She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and then reaching for
his pants, said, “I’m not going to be the only one naked this time.”
Within an instant, he was as bare as she, and they fell upon
the bed, kissing and touching and loving. Loving like they both had dreamed of
for years. He knew that about her, knew years ago he could have taken her, had
her, but only because she loved him and he her. Years of
overflowing heart.
“All right,” she answered. “I promise.” Tossing a sweet,
private smile over her shoulder, she added, “You should try being on this side
of all those buttons.”
A tangle of emotions sprang up inside Brett. Not the least of
these was desperation, for he was desperate to be inside her—had been since he
was about sixteen and had come to understand the glory that would be. There was
love, too, inside him, and overwhelming tenderness for this infinitely precious
woman who was now finally, truly and forever his wife.
The last button finally gave way, and he spun her slowly,
affectionately, so he could gaze into those flower-blue eyes and bask in the
devotion they showered over him.
“I love you, Ester. I know I’ve said that a hundred times over,
but it’s true, always has been. There hasn’t been a moment, not one, when I
haven’t felt that way.” In awe, as he was, his voice sounded raspy, like a wheel
needing grease. The music from below filtered in, and he shook his head. She was
giving up so much, while he wasn’t. “We don’t have to leave here. I’ll—”
Her smile grew as she placed four fingers against his lips. “I
love you, Brett,” she said, sternly, boldly, as those blue eyes captured his. “I
have for years and years. And yet, in all those years, I never took into
consideration all the concessions you made for me.” Her hand slid across his
cheek. “I want to go to Montana. With all my heart.”
She could never know how beautiful she looked right then. Her
eyes had always told him exactly what she was feeling, thinking. Five years ago
they’d held a fear he couldn’t fathom, but right now, besides love and devotion,
they held truth, and his own smile grew as he recognized excitement. For the
future. For Montana.
He picked her up and spun her around the room until they were
both dizzy and laughing loudly enough the people below most likely heard. As he
set her down, she cupped his jaw. “I’ve wanted you to do that since the moment
you arrived home.”
“Well, why didn’t you tell me that, Mrs. Richards?” He picked
up and spun her again, kissing her this time.
She was the one to break the kiss. “I’ve wanted to be called
that for so many years,” she said as he set her down and her fingers started
unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ve even practiced writing it. Over and over
again.”
He caught her chin, dazzled by the smile on her lips. “You
wanted to be twirled around, and called Mrs. Richards. What else have you
wanted?”
Her grin turned into that tempting smirk as she took a step
back and dropped her shoulders, one at a time, to let the dress fall away. As
the material, yards and yards of it, pooled around her feet, she asked, “What do
you think?”
Brett became speechless, a touch dumbfounded. He’d unbuttoned
the dress, kissed bare skin, but hadn’t realized… “You haven’t been wearing
anything beneath—”
“Nope.” Stepping out of the folds, she reached down and pulled
the white slippers off her feet. “Not even socks.”
“Aw, woman,” he replied, resting his hands on the perfect
slopes of her slender shoulders. “You certainly are something.” His hands slid
down her arms and then back up the satin skin of her sides until his palms
cupped the sides of her breasts and the pads of his thumbs found the nipples.
“And the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her beauty did amaze him, and he hoped she’d never guess how
nervous he was. Not at taking her, but at being all she deserved.
She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and then reaching for
his pants, said, “I’m not going to be the only one naked this time.”
Within an instant, he was as bare as she, and they fell upon
the bed, kissing and touching and loving. Loving like they both had dreamed of
for years. He knew that about her, knew years ago he could have taken her, had
her, but only because she loved him and he her. Years of
Similar Books
