strummed.
“It’s marvelous here,” she said, gently breaking away. She retreated to the curtains, projecting a fascination with the embossed ivy and fleur-de-lis pattern. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go someplace else, though? This must be costing a fortune.”
“Well,” he drew out. “It does help that I secretly rob banks for a living. Including my father’s.”
She kept her eyes on the fabric and felt him getting closer. “Really, Lane, I didn’t expect all this extravagance.”
Right behind her again, he stroked the back of her hair. Each strand tingled as he offered a level explanation. “When I was in high school, my father put some funds in the bank for me, a nice start for after college. Of course, you and I will have to find a modest home at first. But that’ll change, once my internship turns into more. Or I’ll find an even better opportunity near Juilliard.”
It suddenly hit her that she hadn’t considered any details past their nuptials—where or how they would live, before and after his graduation. Everything had happened with the force and urgency of a tornado. Besides thoughts of her father, the sole concern crouching in the back of her consciousness had been her brother.
As far as TJ knew, she was traveling with Jo to visit the Allisters’ cousins in Sacramento for the weekend. To cover her bases, she’d told Jo she would be away for a performance. This time, more than any other, she’d despised fibbing. She just couldn’t jeopardize complicating her decision with others’ opinions. Better to ease them into the news once all was solidified.
Lane turned her around with care. “All of that,” he said, “we can talk about later. This is our wedding night, and I don’t want you to worry about anything.” He pressed her hand to his chest. “Just know, I’m going to take care of you, Maddie. So long as we’re together, the rest will work out.”
The assertion cradled her, as solid and real as the throbbing of his heart. With every beat, the trust he had nurtured expanded, pressing down her defenses.
She linked her hands behind his neck and brought him to her. Lane trailed kisses across her cheek, into the curve of her neck. A soft moan escaped her. No longer would they hide in the darkness of a drive-in, shadowed by worries of who might see. From the freedom they’d been granted—in the eyes of God and the law—she yearned to be closer than ever before.
Sensibility, nonetheless, reminded her to do this right. She forced herself to pull away from the magnetism of his hold. “I’d better freshen up,” she rasped.
He paused before yielding a nod, his breathing heavy.
Regaining her composure, she slipped into the bathroom fit for a palace. Steam crawled up the mirrors as water filled the porcelain tub. She unboxed a bar of honey-milk soap and, when the bath was ready, twisted off the faucets. In the vaporous space dripping with gold and marble, she removed her clothes, then remembered. She’d left her nightgown in her suitcase.
Drat.
A problem, yes, but easily remedied. She threw on a plush hotel robe from the door hook. To fetch her garment, she would sprint both to and from her luggage. That was the plan, anyhow, until she stepped into the room, its fabric-lined walls aglow with candles on the nightstand.
“Thirsty?” Lane’s voice came gently from the side, inches from her ear. The smell of champagne sweetened his breath. Candlelight flickered over his bare chest and down the muscles of his stomach. At the sight of his pajama pants, relief battled disappointment, her curiosity swelling.
She ignored the flute of champagne in his hand and ran her fingers along the contours of his shoulders. For years, while he and TJ played basketball at the park, she had witnessed a younger, leaner version of this very chest, these same arms. She’d pumped away on the swings, on a pendulum in her own universe. That girl had no inkling that one day the touch of his skin would
“It’s marvelous here,” she said, gently breaking away. She retreated to the curtains, projecting a fascination with the embossed ivy and fleur-de-lis pattern. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go someplace else, though? This must be costing a fortune.”
“Well,” he drew out. “It does help that I secretly rob banks for a living. Including my father’s.”
She kept her eyes on the fabric and felt him getting closer. “Really, Lane, I didn’t expect all this extravagance.”
Right behind her again, he stroked the back of her hair. Each strand tingled as he offered a level explanation. “When I was in high school, my father put some funds in the bank for me, a nice start for after college. Of course, you and I will have to find a modest home at first. But that’ll change, once my internship turns into more. Or I’ll find an even better opportunity near Juilliard.”
It suddenly hit her that she hadn’t considered any details past their nuptials—where or how they would live, before and after his graduation. Everything had happened with the force and urgency of a tornado. Besides thoughts of her father, the sole concern crouching in the back of her consciousness had been her brother.
As far as TJ knew, she was traveling with Jo to visit the Allisters’ cousins in Sacramento for the weekend. To cover her bases, she’d told Jo she would be away for a performance. This time, more than any other, she’d despised fibbing. She just couldn’t jeopardize complicating her decision with others’ opinions. Better to ease them into the news once all was solidified.
Lane turned her around with care. “All of that,” he said, “we can talk about later. This is our wedding night, and I don’t want you to worry about anything.” He pressed her hand to his chest. “Just know, I’m going to take care of you, Maddie. So long as we’re together, the rest will work out.”
The assertion cradled her, as solid and real as the throbbing of his heart. With every beat, the trust he had nurtured expanded, pressing down her defenses.
She linked her hands behind his neck and brought him to her. Lane trailed kisses across her cheek, into the curve of her neck. A soft moan escaped her. No longer would they hide in the darkness of a drive-in, shadowed by worries of who might see. From the freedom they’d been granted—in the eyes of God and the law—she yearned to be closer than ever before.
Sensibility, nonetheless, reminded her to do this right. She forced herself to pull away from the magnetism of his hold. “I’d better freshen up,” she rasped.
He paused before yielding a nod, his breathing heavy.
Regaining her composure, she slipped into the bathroom fit for a palace. Steam crawled up the mirrors as water filled the porcelain tub. She unboxed a bar of honey-milk soap and, when the bath was ready, twisted off the faucets. In the vaporous space dripping with gold and marble, she removed her clothes, then remembered. She’d left her nightgown in her suitcase.
Drat.
A problem, yes, but easily remedied. She threw on a plush hotel robe from the door hook. To fetch her garment, she would sprint both to and from her luggage. That was the plan, anyhow, until she stepped into the room, its fabric-lined walls aglow with candles on the nightstand.
“Thirsty?” Lane’s voice came gently from the side, inches from her ear. The smell of champagne sweetened his breath. Candlelight flickered over his bare chest and down the muscles of his stomach. At the sight of his pajama pants, relief battled disappointment, her curiosity swelling.
She ignored the flute of champagne in his hand and ran her fingers along the contours of his shoulders. For years, while he and TJ played basketball at the park, she had witnessed a younger, leaner version of this very chest, these same arms. She’d pumped away on the swings, on a pendulum in her own universe. That girl had no inkling that one day the touch of his skin would
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