“Who cares?” she shoots back. “It’s not like we’ve had a traditional wedding.”
“Good point,” I murmur, the meaning behind her words hanging in the air between us. It’s not like it was a real wedding.
And dammit, part of me really wishes it were.
Chapter Sixteen
Alexis
Despite my initial fears that our night in the Honeymoon Suite might turn awkward after our minor tiff over my diet, it doesn’t. And I’ll concede that Colt is right that I deserve a cheat day on my wedding day of all days. And it’s not like I’ve eaten much all day anyway, so I have enough calories banked that I’m not blowing my diet too badly with the cake he orders.
We settle into our usual routine of chatting while we eat the meal Delores ordered for us. The cake arrives just as we’re finishing, and I hold my stomach and groan. “I don’t know if I can eat any more.”
Colt scoops a bite of cake onto the fork and holds it out to me. “Just one bite. It’s traditional.”
I give him a dubious look. “I’m pretty sure the tradition is that we feed each other a bite of cake with our fingers.”
He sets the fork back on the plate. “I can do that. More frosting or less frosting?”
“No!” I protest, eyes wide. “Use the fork. The fork is fine.”
Laughing, he picks up the fork again and holds it in front of my mouth. With a smile on my face, I stare at him for a long moment, waiting for him to calm down enough that the fork isn’t jiggling anymore.
But the longer I stare at him, the more he laughs, so I eventually wrap my fingers around his wrist to hold his hand steady and take the bite of cake from the fork.
Rich, moist chocolate bursts on my tongue, and I let out an involuntary moan.
Colt’s laughter dies, and his face is deadly serious, his eyes intent on my lips.
But he clears his throat, breaking the spell of the moment and turns back to the cake. “That good, huh?”
“Yeah.” My voice comes out far too husky for trying not to add fuel to the sexual tension fire. I clear my throat and try again. “Yeah, it’s really good. Here. My turn.”
He holds up a hand and tries to wave me off. “Nah, that’s alright. You’re right. It’s silly.”
“Nope,” I interrupt. “You insisted. Come here.”
Standing, I pick up his fork from his dinner plate and get a big bite from the cake plate in his hand. “Here.” Once again my voice is too husky, too filled with … want.
His blue eyes seem to see inside me as he opens his mouth and closes his lips around the fork. It shouldn’t be as sexy as it is, but daaaaamn.
I’m about to combust, and he’s not even touching me.
He pulls his head back, and the tines slide out from between his lips as his eyes close. An appreciative sound comes from deep in his throat. “You’re right,” he rasps. “That’s good cake.”
“Right. Yeah. It is.”
The fork hits the table with a clatter, because watching him enjoy a bite of cake is the sexiest thing I’ve seen in way, way too long and I no longer have control of my motor functions.
Good lord, I need …
Well, I was about to say I need a man. But I have one, technically.
Only I’ve decided he’s off limits.
What the hell am I going to do with myself?
Clearing my throat I slide back into my seat. “I know I said I couldn’t eat anymore, but I’ll hate myself forever if I don’t have more of that cake.”
“Right,” Colt says, the word stilted, perfunctory. “Me too.” Only part of me suspects he’s not really talking about the cake.
Even so, he resumes his seat, and I clear a space for him to set the cake between us. We eat it in silence for several minutes before he broaches the other potentially uncomfortable topic of the evening.
“I can sleep on the couch if you want.”
My head jerks up, and I stare at him, but he’s keeping his gaze trained carefully on the cake. I look at the couch and then back at him, imagining him trying to fold himself up onto that. It’s bigger than my loveseat at home, but not by much, and while Colt’s not the tallest man I’ve ever encountered, he’s tall enough that he won’t fit comfortably.
“No,” I say, shaking my head and looking toward the bed. They call it a suite, but it’s really just one room, with the bed on one end, and two steps down, the sitting area with the table, TV, couch, coffee table, and a small upholstered armchair.
In contrast with the narrow couch, the bed looks plush and inviting, piled high with pillows and a fluffy white duvet. “We’re adults. We can share a bed.”
He nods, never looking up. “Okay. Thanks.”
I brush aside his thanks. “It’s nothing. We’ll be living together soon, right? Won’t we be sharing a bed anyway? Or are you planning on sleeping on my loveseat?”
That finally has him looking up at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he chuckles. “I guess I hadn’t really thought about that. This has all happened so fast that I’ve just been focusing on getting to today. I hadn’t really thought about what happens after. But yeah, I guess I’ll be … moving in with you.”
The way the color drains from his face has me reaching out and gripping his free hand. “Colt? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
He blinks rapidly and sucks in a breath like a drowning man gasping for air. He clears his throat and swallows convulsively a few times before answering. “Yeah, fine. I’m fine. It’s just … oh god.” He covers his mouth with his other hand.
“Colt.” I squeeze his hand hard enough that my nails are starting to dig into him, and he flinches. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
He shakes his head and clears his throat again. “Nothing. It’s—I just … I never told my parents about this. I mean, they know I’m seeing someone—you, I mean. They know I’m seeing you. But I didn’t tell them about this, because then they’d want to come. And that wasn’t the deal. And it all seemed fine when it was hypothetical and not really real, but now we’re married, and it’s real, and oh my god my mom is going to kill me.”
His panic over his mother’s reaction is almost comical, except that same icy panic is wrapping its fingers around my own heart. “I know. I haven’t told my parents either. But it’ll be okay. We’ll tell them together.”
He clutches my hand in his, meeting my eyes and shaking his head. “No, you don’t get it. Delores is leaking the pictures right now. We might already be hitting the entertainment news sites. If not yet, then certainly by morning.”
“But …” Confusion wrinkles my brows. “It takes time for photographers to get pictures ready. Even if he rushes, he wouldn’t get through them before tomorrow at the earliest. That guy was taking pictures of everything. He must have hundreds of files to sort through.”
Colt shakes his head again. “Didn’t you see her? Delores was taking pictures with her phone. Those are the ones she’ll be leaking. The others are to sell the official photos later. I don’t know about your parents, but my mom’ll find out before I have the chance to tell her unless I call her right now.”