But tonight, it’s just going to be Maximoff and me.
46
FARROW HALE
I display the keycard between two fingers, a strap to an overnight duffel on my shoulder. “How about you—”
Maximoff tries to steal the keycard.
I hoist it higher, smiling. “Turns out, nine hours of marriage hasn’t made you more patient.”
His chest pushes up against mine, our eyes consume one another and Maximoff swipes the card out of my hand too easily. “Turns out, marriage hasn’t made you any taller.”
Red-hot desire throbs my cock. My eyes drip down his toned swimmer’s build, still dressed in what he wore at the ceremony: black slacks and a white button-down. I look back up at him. He must catch my amusement.
“Don’t say it.”
Now I definitely am. I lift my brows. “I’m still an inch taller than you.”
“Didn’t notice.” Maximoff goes to open the luxury suite, but I put a hand over the door scanner. Security is guarding the perimeter of the cliffside hotel tonight, but out of instinct, I scan the hall in my peripheral. No movement, no other people.
I return to what I was about to mention, but I rephrase it a little bit.
“Before you open the door,” I tell my husband, “you’re going to have to get in my arms.”
He blinks.
“I made him come already,” I tease.
Maximoff blinks harder into a glare. “Not even close.” He gestures to his head. “I’m just trying to process why you think you’re the one carrying me through the threshold. In every scenario I can think of, I’m always carrying you.”
“Every scenario?” I tilt my head. “You must not be thinking hard enough, wolf scout.” I bend down and lift him under the legs.
He barely lets me hook my arms underneath his thighs before he slips out of the hold and tries to go for my legs. His effort leaves the keycard vulnerable in his grip, and I steal it back.
“Fuck,” Maximoff curses, smiling.
In one swift movement, I unlock the suite and kick the door open. I turn to lift him, and he tries to hoist me up at the thighs—we stumble and fall into the suite together.
The heavy door bangs shut behind us, and Maximoff lands on top of me.
Shit. I have a fistful of his shirt while his hands plant on either side of my shoulders. We breathe hard, and I feel his chest rise and fall against me.
Maximoff lifts a hand, a red rose petal stuck to his palm. “What…?” He intakes a staggered breath. His forest-greens melt over the roses sprinkled across the marbled floor and handfuls of lit candles flickering all around the suite.
Around us.
“Surprise,” I say with a rising smile. His firsts are special to me, and this is a first we’re both sharing together. First night as a married couple.
He looks from me to the flowers and candles, like he’s still in a fucking dream. And I’m the dreamlike thing that has awoken and given him an unbelievable reality.
Chock-full of romantic clichés. Typical, ordinary shit that he’s missed until me. His first boyfriend, first love, first and only husband.
I’ve ached to give Maximoff Hale everything he’s ever missed, and I love that I can and will give him these cliché days and nights and minutes for the rest of our lives. This isn’t even the first time I’ve surprised him with roses. Our first Valentine’s Day was during the FanCon tour, and I had flowers sent to our room at a hotel pit stop.
His reaction is just as powerful now as it was then, and that knocks me over. And fuck, I’m already on the floor.
“Look at the bed, Farrow,” Maximoff breathes.
I frown and prop myself on my elbows for a better view. Craning my neck, I see something on the king-sized bed that I didn’t request from the hotel concierge.
A card rests on the taupe-hued comforter, along with a bronze tray of chocolate-covered strawberries. He had this sent to the suite. My eyes burn. “You weren’t afraid that I’d tease you for doing a really fucking cheesy thing?”
“No, I knew you’d tease the fuck out of me for eternity, but I wanted to anyway.”
I cup his jaw and kiss him lightly. “So what’s in the card? Did you profess your undying devotion to me? Doodle us making love and add little glitter hearts?”
He grimaces, his neck reddened. “And now I’m rethinking that cheesy goddamn thing.”
“That’s too bad because I really want to read that cheesy goddamn thing.” I push him off me, before he decides to flush the card down the toilet. We rise to our feet, slipping off straps of our duffels.
I glide my hand down his muscular back as I walk around him to the bed.
“It’s not that serious or that long,” Maximoff warns me.
I smile. “Are you trying to throw me a life jacket before I read your card?”