Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“So? How was the wedding night?” She sank down on the bed and wiggled her eyebrows at me.
The guys were downstairs, way out of earshot, but I still went over and shut my bedroom door. “It was good.”
“Elaborate please. Were there shenanigans?”
I opened one box and began to put socks, bras, and underwear into drawers. “There may have been a shenanigan or two.”
Behind me, Blair squealed. “I knew it!”
I spun around to see her on her back, kicking her feet in the air. “What do you mean?”
She sat up again. “After seeing you guys together at the reception, I bet Griffin fifty bucks you guys wouldn’t be able to stay in the same hotel room without messing around.”
“Seriously?” I laughed.
“Yes, except it was so obviously true that Griff wouldn’t even take the bet.”
“How was it obvious?”
“It just was. There’s something between you guys that just, like, sizzles.”
Leaning back against the dresser, I shook my head. “I’m not even sure how it happened. One minute we were arguing, as usual, and the next I was taking off my pants.”
She giggled. “Sounds about right. So was it good?”
“It was amazing,” I admitted. “The man knows what he’s doing. And he’s not selfish at all, like I thought he would be. He’s patient and generous and highly, highly skilled.”
“Wow. So was it kind of like hate sex?”
I thought about it. “No. We laughed a lot. It was really fun. Then after the first time, we both said how mad we were that it had been so good.”
“Why would that make you mad?”
“Because we weren’t allowed to do it again. But we did.” I felt heat in my cheeks. “Three more times.”
Her jaw dropped. “Even Griffin and I only managed to do it once on our wedding night.”
“That’s different. You guys had done it before, and you knew you’d have all your lives to do it again—as many times as you want to. Enzo and I just had the one night.”
She looked confused. “I don’t understand. You’re married. Why would you only have the one night?”
“Because sex isn’t part of our arrangement.” I turned around and started filling drawers with clothes again. “We agreed on that. We just sort of gave ourselves a wedding-night free-for-all. Now it’s back to the rules.”
She let that sink in. “So are you saying you’d turn him away if he knocked on your door tonight?”
“He’s not going to knock on my door.” But at the thought of it, my entire body warmed.
“But if he did,” she pushed. “What would you do?”
“Hmmm. Is he wearing clothes?”
“Let’s say he’s shirtless.”
“Damn. Is his hair doing that thing in the front?”
“Definitely. And he smells good. Like, really good.”
“Ugh, that’s so annoying.” I sighed. “Ideally, I like to think I’d be strong enough to be the first female in his life to resist him.” Turning around, I faced her. “Realistically, though, I’d probably think about it for two seconds, then jump his bones.”
She cackled with glee. “I knew it.”
Blair and Griffin stayed for dinner, and I cooked my first meal in Enzo’s kitchen—Italian wedding soup and bruschetta on toasted sourdough. Enzo volunteered to go to the grocery store for ingredients, so after checking his pantry and fridge, I sent him on his way with a list. Griffin tagged along, and Blair helped me unpack the rest of my things and then reorganize Enzo’s kitchen. He probably wouldn’t be able to find anything easily for a while, but my system made a lot more sense for a cook. He actually had a beautiful kitchen, with high-end appliances, gorgeous finishes, and pricey copper cookware. I loved cooking in it.
After Griffin and Blair left for home, Enzo and I finished the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. When the sink was empty and the counters gleamed, I felt like a cup of tea. My nerves were a little frayed, and I didn’t think more alcohol was a good idea. The closer we got to bedtime, the more anxious I became. Was Blair right? Would he knock on my door?
I took a plain white mug down from the cupboard and found a box of herbal tea I’d brought from my condo in the pantry. “Want some?” I asked Enzo, who stood at the island looking at his phone.
He glanced up. “No thanks.” Then he returned his attention to the screen and frowned.
“What’s wrong?” I used the insta hot to fill the cup.
“My mother wants us to come for Sunday dinner tomorrow after church.”
“Okay.” I paused. “Is that a problem?”
He met my eyes. “Father Mike is coming. I think she’s going to push us again about having the marriage blessed.”
“Oh.” I bobbed the teabag in the hot water. “I still feel weird about that. Since this isn’t a real marriage.”
“Same.” He set his phone aside and rubbed his face with both hands. He hadn’t shaved today, and his stubble was dark and thicker than usual. “I’ll think of some way to put her off. Want to watch a movie or something?”