“You nervous?” Corbin smirks.
“Terrified,” I say, deadpan. That’s not the truth, but not a complete lie either. I’m cautious. That’s a better way to describe it.
“Yo, Lara, you ready?” Corbin calls out.
“Colby, you have to walk her down the aisle,” Laramie calls back.
“I thought this was a reenactment. That didn’t happen.” I know, because even though I was nine years old, that’s one of my most vivid memories of my childhood. That day I kissed McKenna Dawson on the lips is the day I realized she wasn’t just my little sister's best friend.
“Ready,” Laramie calls out.
I’m staring off into the darkness of the night, trying to keep my shit together, when I feel an elbow in my side. “Dude, you’re supposed to only have eyes for your wife,” Corbin tells me. His eyes are glassy, but he’s not too far gone to not know what he’s doing. With a roll of my eyes for him, I turn toward the fire and watch as Colby walks McKenna around the flames, stopping just before she gets to me. My hands tremble to touch her.
McKenna is all smiles as she links her arm with mine and glances up at me. “You ready, handsome?” she asks in a Southern drawl that’s not her own.
“Shh,” Corbin scolds before I can reply. He clears his throat and begins. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join Rip Callahan and McKenna Dawson in holy matrimony.” He yammers on with random words that I’m not entirely sure are involved in a wedding. I’ve been to a few, but usually, I check out after the first line until the “you may kiss the bride” portion of the event. That’s usually my cue that it’s time for drinks. Even if I wanted to pay attention, I wouldn’t be able to, though. Not with her on my arm like she is.
“Rip, do you take McKenna to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
I’m looking down at her, and she’s looking up at me. The glow of the fire dances in her brown eyes. She takes my breath away, and I’m finding it hard to breathe.
“Rip, buddy. You’re supposed to say, ‘I do,’” Corbin whispers, but we can all hear him.
I swallow hard. My eyes never leaving hers. “I do.”
“McKenna, do you take Rip to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Corbin repeats the question. My hair that’s now hanging just below my ears blows into my eyes. McKenna raises her hand and tucks it behind my ear. Once she’s finished, her palm rests against my cheek. “I do,” she whispers.
This feels real.
Intimate.
“By the power vested in me, by the bonfire gods and the state of Texas—” Corbin laughs at himself “—I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
I don’t hesitate to bend my head and press my lips to hers briefly. Way too briefly before I’m pulling away. I need to maintain control. I can’t devour her as I want. I watch as her eyes flutter open and lock on mine.
“Boo!” Corbin says loudly. “You call that a kiss. You’re fired. Both of you.”
“Encore,” my sister begins to chant, and it only takes a couple of seconds for Corbin and Colby to start cheering right along with her.
“What do you think, Kenna?” I ask, placing my hands on her hips and pulling her close.
“I think we better give them what they want.” That’s what she says, but the way her eyes are hooded and her body leans into mine, I think it’s what she wants too.
I want it. I want her. I have for such a long fucking time that my tightly spun control snaps. With one hand around her waist, I slide the other under her hair to grip the back of her neck. Then, I kiss her. Not for the fake wedding, not for the show our friends are demanding.
No. I kiss the hell out of her for me, and I finally got the answer to a question that’s always plagued me. Her lips are indeed as soft as they look.
My tongue glides past her lips, and we begin a battle, both giving as much as we’re taking. I don’t hear our friends. I don’t hear the crackling of the fire. The only sound I can make out is the moan that rises from somewhere deep in her chest, leading me to release one of my own.
She’s fucking incredible.
Chapter 2
McKenna
My knees wobble, but that’s okay because Rip has his big, strong arms wrapped around me, holding me tight. His mouth is pressed against mine, and I meet his tongue stroke for stroke.
I’m kissing Rip!
This man, he’s nothing like the boy who stole my first kiss all those years ago, but then again, he is. He’s still my best friend’s older brother. He’s still in control, and I’m still falling for his charms. His hair is longer, falling just shy of his shoulders, and his body is more defined, and I know he’s put on some muscle. I can feel the difference beneath the palm of my hands that rest on his chest. The day I left for college, he gave me a big hug telling me to be safe and to chase my dreams. Rip five years ago was buff. Rip today is a work of sculpted perfection.