1
The Honeymoon
THE BAND PLAYED a slow tune, the wedding singer’s voice hung on the words, slow, and deep, and mellow. Matt McKinney tightened his arms around his bride, dipped his head lower and drew in her scent.
They’d danced like this at the beach, when he’d only known her a handful of days. He’d loved her then, no doubt. But what he felt now went beyond words.
“The doctor gave me the all clear,” Abby whispered in his ear. “Did I tell you that?”
Matt groaned right there on the dance floor, in front of family and friends and a circus of children. Then he nuzzled his nose into her hair and pressed a kiss just behind her ear. “That was cruel.” When he pulled back, Abby was smiling up at him wickedly.
“You in this tux is cruel,” she said and ran her hand slowly up the front of his shirt and over his shoulder. “I hope you don’t have to return this because there’s a good chance there will be some lost buttons from this shirt.”
Her hand slid back down to his chest, lingered over his heart, then both hands slid up and around his the back of his neck. “I’m a lucky woman.”
“And I was just thinking I was a lucky man.”
With her head tipped back, her face raised to his, she smiled. The glow of happiness ran all the way to her bright green eyes. “That’s handy.”
“It is.” And what the hell, he thought. It was their wedding. And hadn’t he just kissed her in a church in front of God and everyone? Keeping it PG for the guests, Matt pressed his lips to hers.
Knowing he couldn’t keep it light for long he pulled back and tucked Abby’s head against his chest. He felt her smile against him, thought he heard her light laugh.
He liked weddings well enough, especially appreciated what this one had accomplished, but he was ready to leave. Needed to leave with his wife. My wife. What beautiful words, the two of them together . . . my wife. Nothing sounded better than that.
It had taken a while to get here, but none of that mattered now. They had the rest of their lives. And right now, he was especially focused on the next few hours.
He needed to get her behind closed doors. He’d come damn close to tossing her over his shoulder more than once in the past three hours. He’d had to dig deep not to at least pull her outside for a minute alone. But with the kids and the baby and the knowledge that they were about to have five full days alone, he’d held himself together.
Though he wasn’t above whispering in her ear a few of the things he was going to do to her. Abby lifted her face and he watched the color rise in her cheeks, her eyes flare with desire. Then the song ended and the band moved into a fast paced dance tune.
They were immediately assaulted by short people hanging on their waists and legs. Gracie was already jumping for him so he lifted her up and into his arms. His parents must have been just barely holding them back for the past three minutes. Abby held hands with Annie and Jack, Jack swinging his mother’s hand wildly.
Charlie was there too, and Matt stopped to scoop him up. Only baby Mary was missing, as she slept in a stroller next to his grandmother.
“Watch this!” Jack shouted then boogied down to the floor until he sat on his bottom only to rocket back up again.
Annie’s dancing was more subdued but Gracie wasn’t about to be outdone. She let go of her hold on Matt and as he set her down noticed her feet.
“Where are your shoes, Bug?”
“They hurted me!”
She lifted one socked foot toward his face.
“And I need to dance!” She twirled round and round, one hand in the air above her head like she was roping cattle.
For the next twenty minutes the five of them danced, jumped, and twisted through YMCA, the Hokey Pokey, and the chicken dance. Cousins of all ages joined them and by the time they finished it looked like he and Abby were running a multi aged gym class
An hour later, in a flurry of red rose petals and well wishes, glittering sparklers and a few tears from the kids—more from being overly tired than the prospect of five days with doting grandparents— Matt ushered his bride into the back of the waiting limo. The best day of his life, next to the day he’d met her and the day his daughter, Mary, was born.
And it wasn’t over yet.
As soon as the door closed and the black stretch limo pulled away from the curb, he took Abby’s face in his hands. His wife. His heart. “You’re glowing.”
She covered his hands with her own. “I’m happy,” she said, smiling. “And I had champagne.”
“You’re so beautiful.” He kissed her, angling her head to go deeper, tasting the champagne and everything uniquely Abby. “And you’re about to be happier.”
“Really?” With a devilish grin, she shifted, straddled his lap. “Are you sure that’s possible?”
“Oh, I’m absolutely sure.” He slid his hand around her back, bringing her into his chest. “And you can have more champagne.” He started at her neck, scraping his teeth down the length of her throat.
Abby sighed, dropped her head back. He paved a line of hot, open mouthed kisses across her chest. He drew in her scent and her taste as his mouth moved over her shoulder, her upper back. “God, I love you.”
Shifting he lowered her onto the leather seat and came over her, taking her mouth. He took great care, and it wasn’t easy, but he managed to find the hem and get a hand under the silk. “This is a tempting fabric. What’s going on under here?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said, as her fingers got busy with the buttons of his tuxedo shirt.
“Oh, I would. And I’m about to.” He sat back and gathered the bunched silk, sliding it up until he found bare skin. First her ankles, then her calves.
“I need those shoes off.”
“That’s not the first thing you need off.”
“Ha,” she said, sitting up, then she took him by surprise, planting her palms on his chest and shoving him back. Her fingers went back to the buttons of his shirt with mischief in her eyes. “Maybe we could make some sort of deal.”
“Mmm.” There was nothing he wouldn’t agree to, he thought. Then watched as Abby reached up, tugged something from her hair that let it one side fall in a dark curtain around her face. And he lost his breath. Not the first time that had happened today. And he knew it wouldn’t be the last.
He slipped his fingers into her hair as she opened the third button of his shirt. She leaned in, pressed her lips to his throat and inhaled. “God, I’ve been needing to do that for so long. Hours.”
“You want to know what I’ve been wanting to do for hours?”
“I can think of a few things.” She lifted her face and her smile grew. “It was perfect, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” It had all been perfect—from the vows to the promises made and any wrinkles from the past two weeks smoothed out and forgotten. He lifted her left hand to his lips and kissed her ring finger. “You’re my wife. I’d call that a successful wedding.” She ran her other hand through his hair, her nails scraping lightly along his neck and he stifled a moan.
“Your mom is going to have a time getting the kids to sleep.”