"I don't want a big wedding," Courtney interrupted. "I couldn't stand not having my father there to walk me down the aisle."
Fuck, he was such a dumbshit. Why had he even brought the subject of a wedding up? How could he not have thought of that? All he'd considered was the delay he hadn't wanted. He'd done it again. She was right. He was inconsiderate and he needed to learn how to do better. Starting now. He leaned in again and kissed her forehead once more. "Okay, then. It's a secret until it's done, but then everyone knows, right?"
She broke out into a breathless, radiant smile. "Right," she agreed.
Thank God.
****
Later that night, Courtney experienced the gentlest lovemaking she'd known in her admittedly short love life. Nick had been unbelievable, stroking every inch of her skin slowly, as if he were entranced.
As she lay awake in the aftermath, listening to his deep breathing, her brain cells were rioting. My God, he really loved her.
All it had taken was one small talk, two minutes of telling him what she needed from him, a few very real tears, and he'd listened to every word. He'd listened to her and tonight, he'd worshipped her body, his every touch gentle, his every stroke filled with love and a profound need for her.
She closed her eyes in delight. They were going to be so happy together. They loved each other so much, trusted each other, needed each other; they fit together like a glove.
Life was so good. Finally, life was good.
Nothing could go wrong.
****
A married woman now, the drive back across the Mississippi River was different than the drive over had been an hour earlier. Courtney couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was, but Nick held her hand just a tad more tightly than before. He controlled the steering wheel with his left hand, and his right hand held hers over the console as he twirled both the engagement ring and the wedding band around and around on her finger. She glanced at his hand on the steering wheel and saw once again, the wedding band on his ring finger that matched hers.
A shiver of delight danced down her spine.
This man was hers. Hers, by God.
He glanced at her briefly before looking back to the road. "Let's run by the house and get some more of your things. We'll tell mom the news and she can spread the word. Later this weekend, we can pick up the rest of your stuff and you can move in completely. That sound all right?"
"Mm-hmm," she agreed. She'd agree to just about anything right now. Her brain was floating around somewhere in a state of blissful happiness and anticipation.
"You sound happy," he said with a growl of satisfaction.
She smiled and tightened her fingers on his. "That's because I am happy."
"Garrett's going to be pissed when you stop travelling," Nick announced with determination in his voice.
Courtney rolled her eyes. She'd travel if she damn well felt like it but she'd cross that bridge later. Nothing was going to interrupt the euphoria running through her bloodstream right now.
When she didn't comment but only kept smiling, he smiled in return, obviously letting his challenge go, and then he changed the subject. "When do you want to start working on a baby? I'm ready whenever you are," he teased. "What do you think?"
Courtney's stomach dropped as she felt the color drain from her face. Nothing could interrupt the euphoria running through her bloodstream . . . except that. "Wh-what?" she asked in a stutter.
Nick braked as the car rolled up to a red light, and looked at her with a question in his eyes. "I'm just kidding, babe. I'm not sharing you for a long, long time." He speared his hand through her hair as he smiled. "Unless an accident happens, and then I'll have no choice," he teased.
Thankfully, the light turned green and Courtney was spared from answering. The happiness had just gone out of her day, deflated like a viciously popped balloon. Shit. The happiness had just gone out of her life. Why. In. The. Hell. Hadn't. She. Thought. About. This?
As they drove through the city, Courtney knew they couldn't tell Justine about the marriage, not yet. Not until they'd talked. Just as he was about to board the freeway toward his mother's house, she stopped him. "Nick," she managed, with ill-concealed dread.
At the tone of her voice, he glanced over. "Yeah?"
"Let's go to the penthouse first, okay?"
"We just decided we'd tell mom and pick up some of your things," he answered in a stilted manner.
"Yeah, I know, but I've changed my mind. I don't feel so hot. Can you take me back to the penthouse? Please?"
His features hardened but he turned in the appropriate direction. The five minutes it took to arrive in the underground parking were some of the longest of her life. Dread sat like a dead weight in her belly.