My parents aren't happy about my move and the choices I've been making, but they're being as supportive as I would expect. I haven't asked them for a dime, and every time I talk to my mother it feels like she's waiting for me to either beg her for help or beg her to let me come home.
I haven't and won't do either of those things.
I'm a different person completely, changed by the power of one person and his ability to show me the value of my own happiness. Mark is my savior. He's given me so much more than the city ever could with so much less.
The ceremony ends and we all make our way to the reception in the hall of the only hotel in this town. I love how close knit this community is. Yes, there's drama. Yes, there are rumors about the locals, but you'll always get that wherever you go, it doesn't matter where. But the closeness is irreplaceable.
Mark isn't as dressed up as he was at Jenna's wedding. He's in a button-up shirt and a pair of khakis. And he's wearing it just as powerfully as the suit. He could be wearing a paper bag and it would still look sexy as hell.
Smiling, I eye him as he brings me a glass of wine. He can see the look on my face, and he knows exactly what I'm thinking, but he asks me anyway. “What?”
“Nothing, you just look so handsome.”
“Well, I know that,” he responds playfully. “So you're saying when we get home you want to rip my clothes off and bang my brains out?”
“Yeah, that's exactly what's going through my head.”
“I knew it.” He looks to the head table, his eyes settling on the bride and groom. “They look so happy.”
“They should, it's their wedding day. I'd hate to see a wedding where the bride and groom are fighting.” Chuckling, I take a moment to admire them. “Melody looks amazing.”
“You look amazing,” he answers. Mark leans over, planting a kiss on my cheek. “You want to dance?” he asks, pointing at the small crowd that's gathering on the dance floor.
“One second,” I say, tipping back my glass, and downing the entire thing. “Now, I'm ready.”
“So we're playing like that. All right.” Mark swallows down the rest of his wine. Holding out his empty glass, he exhales a pleased breath of air. “There, now we're even. That's what. . .” Pausing, he looks at the glasses in front of us. “Three apiece?”
“I haven't been counting.”
Mark takes my hand, pulling me to my feet. “Come on, it's time for you to really see my moves.”
“So at Jenna and Ryder's wedding those weren't your best moves?”
“Nah, that was me playing it cool. I didn't want to embarrass you or anything.” Holding my hand, he pulls me around in front of him, giving me a spin at the same time. “Now I'm not going to be as courteous.”
“Good, I don't want you to hold back for me.”
He throws his arm around my waist and moves me toward the dance floor. With my hand in his, and his arm keeping me close, he presses his cheek against mine.
“I love these heels, you're almost eye to eye with me—almost.”
Sweeping me around the floor, he leads us in this not so smooth, but very fun dance. I love it. I love how he treats me as if everything about who I am is special and amazing.
“It's funny how things come around full circle like this isn't it?”
“How so?” I ask.
Braiding our fingers together, he pulls me off the dance floor and into the small room in the lobby with the ice and snack machines.
When he turns to face me, he grabs me by the hips and pulls me in. “I mean, we started at a wedding. A wedding that brought two very unlikely people together, and now another wedding is taking us in a different direction. We're ending at a wedding. . .”
My heart slows inside my chest as my stomach twists up like a pretzel as he takes a long pause. What is he talking about? Is he breaking up with me? What is he doing?
Dropping to one knee, his eyes stay steady on mine as he pulls a small white box from his pocket. “Will you marry me?” he asks.
My hands fly up to my face and cover my mouth. “Are you serious?” Mark nods. “You're really serious?”
“Yes, Sia, I'm serious,” he says with a smile and laugh. “I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. I found you, and I never want to let you go.” He takes the ring out of the box and lifts my hand, holding it to the tip of my ring finger. “So, will you marry me?”
Tears stream down my face as my lips thin into a teary smile. “Yes, yes I'll marry you. I love you.” My hand is shaking as he slides the ring in place. “Oh my God, I can't believe this. It's beautiful, Mark.”
The white gold band with a princess cut diamond fits my finger perfectly. The stone sparkles under the light, glittering like a star in the night sky.
Placing his hands around my face, Mark wipes the tears away with his thumbs. Then he leans in to kiss me, but I pull back quickly.
“I think we should probably keep this between us for now,” I say.
“Why?” he asks as his face fills with confusion.
“Because today is Melody's day. We can tell everyone another time, but every bride deserves her day.”
“Yeah, you're right. I don't want to take anything from her.”
I slide my hands up over his shoulders and clasp them behind his neck. “Now, where were we?” Pressing up on my toes, I push my lips against his.
Mark's soft and controlled kiss is now hungry and savage. His tongue forces my lips open, swirling around mine. His hands glide down my ribs and over my hips, coming to a stop on my ass.
I moan into our kiss, my back arched and my head tilted to one side. All I want to do is take him right here. I don't want to wait. I need him right now.
“Let's get out of here,” I say between kisses. “They won't miss us.”
“Done.” Mark quickly pulls away, digging his keys out of his pocket and dragging me along as he heads for the front doors.
We climb into the truck and Mark starts the engine before I even have my seat belt on. Peeling out of the parking lot, his eyes are on the road, but he still can't keep hands off me. His hand is on my thigh, slinking up under my dress.
I spread my thighs for him, and his fingers stroke my pussy. I'm not wearing any panties, and the second he feels the wet arousal of my freshly shaved pussy, I hear him growl with desire.
With the tip of his finger, he massages my clit, causing my legs to widen more and my head to fall back against the seat. He's playing with me. Touching my clit, then pulling away. Slipping his fingers between my folds, moving down to my entrance, only to stop right before entering.
Holding his wrist, I try to rock my hips up and force him inside, but he doesn't take the bait. “Uh uh,” he tsks as he pulls his hand away. “It's not time for that yet.”
“You're so mean,” I say, my hips rolling without me even trying. I'm touching myself, pinching my nipples and cupping my mound.
“But we're home,” he says as he turns the wheel and drives up to the house.
“Stop the truck,” I demand.
“Why?” he asks, bringing the truck to a full stop.