The Best Next Thing

“Really?” Hearing him tell her he loved her was one thing…but this right here. This was proof of that love.

“Yes really, I missed you and listening to the book made it worse.”

She could feel herself beaming and knew her face must have lit up like a Christmas tree. His irritated words made her so damned happy.

“We’ll finish it tomorrow,” she promised, climbing on top of him to straddle his thighs.

“Yes,” he nodded eagerly, whether in response to her enthusiastic grinding against his cock or to her words, she couldn’t be certain. Until he added, “And then start the next part of the adventure. Together.”

The haunting strains of Wagner’s wedding march beautifully plucked from the strings of an elegantly curved pedal harp, swelled to a sobbing crescendo as the bride reached the end of the rose petal strewn red carpet. Her handsome groom, his face a study in reverence, adoration, and love, waited with tightly folded hands. As if he had to physically restrain himself from reaching for her.

“Who gives this woman to marry this man?” The minister intoned seriously, despite the grin on her face.

“I do,” the handsome man beside the beautiful bride replied, his voice brimming with pride and emotion. He lifted her veil and planted a sweet kiss on her cheek, before removing her hand from the crook of his elbow and transferring it to her waiting groom’s hand.

“You’d better take good care of her, George.” The words were thick with warning, and the guests tittered in amusement, even though Charity knew he wasn’t joking at all. He took his seat next to hers, his eyes shimmering with emotion he swiftly hid behind a pair of dark glasses.

“Big baby,” she whispered in his ear, and he turned his head to give her an impassive look. As if he could fool her with a pair of aviator sunglasses and a downturned mouth. He was a blubbering mess behind that disguise.

After nearly a year of courtship—well, “courtship” was probably too formal a word for canoodling that went on between the two of them—George was finally making an honest woman of his beloved Enid. The woman had pretty much moved to Riversend with Miles. But even though she ostensibly lived at her son’s house, she had never spent any significant time there. Instead, she had practically moved into George’s house.

Which had suited Miles and Charity just fine because Charity had moved in with Miles.

And she had never been happier. Business was thriving, she spoke with her family often, and kept up with her therapy sessions. She had made so many friends since returning to Riversend, and she was becoming a valued member of the community. She had even allowed Sam to coerce her into teaching a few self-defense classes.

Life was good, and at the center of it all was the man beside her. He had traveled more than he’d initially intended to, but always hurried home to her. They were ecstatic. And more and more in love every day.

Her hand crept into his. Because, despite his stoicism, she knew this was an emotional day for him. Her gorgeous, strong man was a little tearful because his mother was getting married.

Charity watched the couple exchange their I do’s. Vicki and Nina were bridesmaids, and Hugh the best man. And Miles, duty done, sat and watched as his mother married her beloved George.

“It was a lovely wedding,” Charity reflected that evening.

“It was nice,” Miles agreed, he had finished brushing his teeth and was watching her moisturize her face with a dreamy smile on his face.

“They were thrilled with their wedding gift. That was a lovely thing you did for them.”

“I couldn’t have them living in a one-bedroom house. She would drive George nuts, they’d fight, and then she’d wind up back on my doorstep.” He folded his arms over his naked chest and shook his head. “Nope, it’s better this way. A bigger house will allow them both space to preserve their sanity.”

“I didn’t think George would accept it.” There had been a moment when George had looked on the verge of giving back the title deed of the modest three-bedroom house in town that Miles had bought for them. But in the end, he had hugged Miles and thanked him emotionally.

“George is a wise man. He loves my mum and he knew a bigger house would make her happy. Mum’s a humble woman,” he said. “And she would have been content in George’s old place, but they needed more space. They both knew that.”

Charity massaged the excess moisturizer into the skin of her hands and forearms, never shifting her eyes from his somber face.

She got up from her dresser to gift him with a tender kiss.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I have an inkling, yes.” He curled his arms around her waist and squeezed her close. He whistled and the incongruous sound startled Charity into looking up.