Read Online 1512298433 (R) by Marquita Valentine - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marquita Valentine
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was just that—a moment of weakness that she vowed would never happen again.
“So are you.” He kissed her again, a chaste kiss to her forehead that left her wanting more. But they had a crowd.
He opened the passenger-side door and lifted her easily inside, helping tuck the skirt of her wedding dress inside with her. His gaze fell to her shoes, and a grin kicked up the corners of his mouth.
“Those are unexpectedly hot,” he said.
Unnerved by his pronouncement, she tried to take back control of the situation. “As in freakishly hot? Not what a proper southern belle like—”
“As in, I dig the shoes, Haven, because they’re you. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He closed the door and jogged around to the other side, dodging more birdseed from his brothers. Every miss that hit the truck instead of him sounded reminded her of the rain sticks they used to make in social studies while studying Native American cultures.
“Ready to go to the beach?” he asked as he slammed the door shut.
“We could drive around for a couple of hours, then I can go home and do the B&B thing while you go home and play with your balls,” she said sweetly.
“Rather you play with them.” He accompanied the words with a look so hot that she was shocked her panties didn’t melt. “But people are expecting us to leave Holland Springs.”
She sighed. He had a point. “So leave.”
He cranked up the truck, the vibrations from the muffler making her seat move. She gasped, and he laughed.
“Like that, huh?” He revved the engine, and the vibrations grew stronger.
This Heath, she could handle. The one who told stupid jokes and got into mock fights with his brothers at his own wedding was familiar territory to her. It fit his dumb jock image, an image she didn’t find intimidating in the least.
However, the man he’d been giving her glimpses of was an entirely different creature—one she wasn’t sure what to do with.
Grabbing the oh-crap handle by the door, she glared at him. “You are so juvenile.”
“I know how to have fun.” He shifted into drive, and the vibrations slowly faded away. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you back before Sunday. Mrs. Ambrose.”
“Ms. Crawford,” she reminded him, unwilling to play along.
His dark blue eyes bore into hers. “For the next four days, you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs. Ambrose. Now tell everyone goodbye.”
Tipping up her chin, she pasted on a smile and waved at everyone. “You are so not the boss of me.”
“Pretty sure the preacher said I was.”
Almost growling, she turned to him, ready to chew him up one side and then down the other, but his mouth twitched.
“Didn’t you pay attention to our vows, sweetheart?”
She tapped the side of her face and looked to one side, pretending to think about their vows. “Now that you mention it, I do remember that—and the part about how I get to kick you in the nuts every Tuesday.”
Heath didn’t take her threat as a threat, or a hint to shut up. Oh no. That irritatingly sexy man threw his head back and laughed. “Good thing it’s Wednesday.”
*
Once they were less than twenty minutes away from his family’s beach house, Heath finally asked about what had been on his mind. “Did the will specify how long we have to be married?”
Her expression went from annoyingly gleeful to completely stunned, as if she hadn’t considered the possibility or that he was the one to think of it. Either way, it wasn’t a compliment to him. Then again, she’d never thought well of him. Always wrinkled her nose at him like he smelled like dog shit or something.
Except when he kissed her. Maybe he should kiss her more often.
“I don’t think so, but I don’t remember.” She twirled a long, thick strand of cotton candy-colored hair around two fingers, then let it unwind. It bounced against the tops of her breasts.
Heath swallowed hard, fighting his reaction. If she were any other woman, he would have thought she was
“So are you.” He kissed her again, a chaste kiss to her forehead that left her wanting more. But they had a crowd.
He opened the passenger-side door and lifted her easily inside, helping tuck the skirt of her wedding dress inside with her. His gaze fell to her shoes, and a grin kicked up the corners of his mouth.
“Those are unexpectedly hot,” he said.
Unnerved by his pronouncement, she tried to take back control of the situation. “As in freakishly hot? Not what a proper southern belle like—”
“As in, I dig the shoes, Haven, because they’re you. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He closed the door and jogged around to the other side, dodging more birdseed from his brothers. Every miss that hit the truck instead of him sounded reminded her of the rain sticks they used to make in social studies while studying Native American cultures.
“Ready to go to the beach?” he asked as he slammed the door shut.
“We could drive around for a couple of hours, then I can go home and do the B&B thing while you go home and play with your balls,” she said sweetly.
“Rather you play with them.” He accompanied the words with a look so hot that she was shocked her panties didn’t melt. “But people are expecting us to leave Holland Springs.”
She sighed. He had a point. “So leave.”
He cranked up the truck, the vibrations from the muffler making her seat move. She gasped, and he laughed.
“Like that, huh?” He revved the engine, and the vibrations grew stronger.
This Heath, she could handle. The one who told stupid jokes and got into mock fights with his brothers at his own wedding was familiar territory to her. It fit his dumb jock image, an image she didn’t find intimidating in the least.
However, the man he’d been giving her glimpses of was an entirely different creature—one she wasn’t sure what to do with.
Grabbing the oh-crap handle by the door, she glared at him. “You are so juvenile.”
“I know how to have fun.” He shifted into drive, and the vibrations slowly faded away. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you back before Sunday. Mrs. Ambrose.”
“Ms. Crawford,” she reminded him, unwilling to play along.
His dark blue eyes bore into hers. “For the next four days, you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs. Ambrose. Now tell everyone goodbye.”
Tipping up her chin, she pasted on a smile and waved at everyone. “You are so not the boss of me.”
“Pretty sure the preacher said I was.”
Almost growling, she turned to him, ready to chew him up one side and then down the other, but his mouth twitched.
“Didn’t you pay attention to our vows, sweetheart?”
She tapped the side of her face and looked to one side, pretending to think about their vows. “Now that you mention it, I do remember that—and the part about how I get to kick you in the nuts every Tuesday.”
Heath didn’t take her threat as a threat, or a hint to shut up. Oh no. That irritatingly sexy man threw his head back and laughed. “Good thing it’s Wednesday.”
*
Once they were less than twenty minutes away from his family’s beach house, Heath finally asked about what had been on his mind. “Did the will specify how long we have to be married?”
Her expression went from annoyingly gleeful to completely stunned, as if she hadn’t considered the possibility or that he was the one to think of it. Either way, it wasn’t a compliment to him. Then again, she’d never thought well of him. Always wrinkled her nose at him like he smelled like dog shit or something.
Except when he kissed her. Maybe he should kiss her more often.
“I don’t think so, but I don’t remember.” She twirled a long, thick strand of cotton candy-colored hair around two fingers, then let it unwind. It bounced against the tops of her breasts.
Heath swallowed hard, fighting his reaction. If she were any other woman, he would have thought she was
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