Everything for Us (The Bad Boys 3)

I peel back the sheet, the only thing that’s covering her. The weather here in Fiji is balmy all the time, so we sleep in very little, which is perfectly fine with me. She stirs slightly and I press my lips to the center of her back and then drag my tongue down her spine and over to one butt cheek. I sink my teeth in and nip her lightly. She flinches and I hear her muffled gasp. I rub my lips back and forth over the spot, whispering as I do, “I love this ass.”

Marissa squirms beneath me, shifting just enough to flatten out and spread her legs a little more. Reaching down, I run my hand up the back of her thigh and then to the inside, sliding up toward the heat I can already feel coming from her. When I slip my finger inside her, she’s already wet and ready for me.

“What’s this? Were you dreaming about me again?”

Gently, I move my finger in and out, holding her down with the weight of my chest.

“Mmm,” is her only answer.

“It sure feels like you were,” I continue quietly. “Care to tell me the details? I’d be happy to try and make them feel real. Very, very real,” I say, driving another finger deep inside her.

“How ’bout I show you instead,” she says, wiggling her lower body to squirm out from under my chest.

I love it when she demonstrates things for me.

* * *

The sun is much higher in the sky by the time we make it ashore. Cash and Olivia are lounging by the hotel pool with Gavin and Ginger.

“What’s going on, lazy people?” I say when we’re within earshot. “I thought we had appointments to get all pampered and shit.”

Olivia scoots off her lounge chair, bends to give Cash a kiss, then grabs Ginger’s hand and drags her to her feet. “We’re off. You boys enjoy yourselves. We’re going to get beautiful.”

“Perfection can’t be improved upon,” I say, pulling Marissa in close for a kiss before Olivia can drag her off, too. She smiles up at me.

“Keep talking like that and you’ll get another dose of this morning’s medicine.”

“I’ve got plenty more where that came from,” I say, referring to my arsenal of compliments.

The grin she gives me is suggestive. “Oh, I know you do.”

I swat her on her delicious butt as she turns to follow Olivia and Ginger. I watch her until she’s out of sight, then move to sit on the end of the lounge chair Olivia just vacated.

“So, am I supposed to be talking you out of the wedding jitters or something like that?”

“I guess if I had any you could, but I think I’m looking forward to this more than she is.”

“Ha! I doubt that. She practically floated outta here. I don’t think her feet have touched the ground since we got here.”

Cash proposed to Olivia a couple months ago, not too long after the sentencing on the Bratva boys was handed down. They talked about a big wedding, but once Dad was released, it seemed like it was pretty easy for Ginger to talk Olivia into a destination wedding. It was even easier once Ginger told her that both her dad and mine had agreed.

Olivia’s mother was a nonissue. She refused to take part in any way with Olivia and Cash’s “farce of a wedding” as she called it.

What a colossal bitch!

It sealed the deal when Ginger told her that Marissa and I had agreed to ferry everyone over here on the yacht. After that, it was just a matter of picking the ideal spot and making all the arrangements.

They decided on Fiji. The ceremony is to be a blend of traditional Fijian and Christian. The wedding party is small, consisting of Marissa and Ginger as bridesmaids; me, Gavin, and Dad as best men; and Olivia’s father here to give her away. It starts at eight thirty p.m., Fiji time.

Cash’s smile seems permanent. I’d say mine looks the same way. Never in a thousand years would I have guessed that our lives could turn out this way, not after the way they’ve been progressing since Mom’s death. I guess it just shows what the love of a good woman can do for a man. It can fix all the broken pieces and heal all the old wounds. If she loves a man, scars and all, that is. And mine does. I think Cash’s does, too. We’re both lucky in that way.

“Well, if you’ve got nothing better to do, I need to talk to you.”

I take a deep breath. This is step one.

* * *

Standing on the beach opposite Marissa, the setting sun glowing on the waves, the warm air ruffling our hair and the torches lit all along the path, I have to admit that it’s a great place for a wedding. I should be watching for Olivia, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off Marissa.

She looks amazing in her Fijian wedding attire. The thin white skirt is long, but it’s slit to midthigh and shows off her legs to perfection. She got sunburned during her afternoon with the girls, so I don’t think she’s wearing a bra under the matching white top. Every now and then, when the breeze blows just right, I think I get a glimpse of her ni**les and it’s driving me crazy.

As though she can feel me watching her, she glances over at me and smiles. She takes my breath away.

Her cheeks are flushed with color, mostly from the sun today, and her hair is platinum after spending so much time at sea in the last few months. Her eyes are sparkling happily, and something tells me she’s gonna be ready for some really aggressive sex tonight. That’s my favorite mood of hers. At least sexually.

She tips her head toward the path as the drums start beating, and I make myself look at the bride. Some Fijian men dressed in humiliating outfits are carrying Olivia on some sort of bed . . . thing. They stop not far from her father and let her down. He takes her hand and tucks it in the bend of his arm, and they turn toward Cash.

I look back at him. He’s not smiling, but he doesn’t look mad or aggravated. He looks stunned. I bet he couldn’t speak a word right now if someone held a gun to his head. I see my father clap a hand on his shoulder. I’m sure it’s a very emotional time for him, too. In all likelihood, I’d say he never thought he’d see this day. Today, many of my family’s dreams are coming true.

I hope one of mine will, too.

I look back to Marissa. I watch her as the man presiding over the wedding begins to speak. I still watch her as Olivia and Cash speak their heartfelt vows to one another. Only a few bits and pieces penetrate my preoccupation.

“You breathed life into parts of me I didn’t even know were dead,” Cash says solemnly. He finishes and there’s a pause before Olivia begins hers.

“You’re everything I could ever want in a man, in a mate. You’re the father of my unborn children and the person I want to grow old with,” she says shakily.

As I listen with half an ear, I watch as Marissa delicately wipes happy tears from her cheeks; they’re streaming from her eyes.

Even the minister’s words can’t bring my attention fully away from Marissa. “You may kiss the bride.”

I watch Marissa’s eyes shift to mine. She holds my gaze rather than looking back to Cash and Olivia. I wonder what she’s thinking right now, gazing at me across a sandy path, in the middle of paradise, as our loved ones tie the knot. Is she wishing I’d pop the question so she can have a wedding of her own? Is she disappointed that I haven’t already? Would she be crushed if I never did? Or would she be relieved?

I don’t see any answers in her eyes, only love. I see her lips move and can easily discern what she’s saying, even though she isn’t making a sound.

“I love you.”

I smile and return her silent words. The moment is lost when Cash and Olivia walk between us, announced as Mr. and Mrs. Cash Davenport.

They both look like they couldn’t be happier. And I couldn’t be happier for them.

The celebration starts immediately. Rather than having the wedding inside the small chapel, they opted for the beach. And rather than having the reception at the resort, they opted to have the food and drink brought to tables outside. Not that we need much, anyway. We kind of bring our own party.

Much later, I’m getting antsy. I don’t have a watch on, but I know it has to be past midnight, yet the others show no signs of wearing down. I look at the edge of the trees and see the horse tied there.

Rising, I walk to Marissa where she’s talking with Ginger and I take her hand. Without a word, I tug her to her feet. She looks up at me questioningly, but she doesn’t protest. She just follows me across the sand, to the edge of the trees, to the horse that’s waiting for us.

I help her onto it, still neither of us speaking. I climb on behind her and guide the horse slowly along the path, the one I memorized today.

We make our way through the lush forest, uphill until we reach the clearing. A white blanket is laid out in the grass. The red rose petals strewn across it would be visible even if the moon weren’t bright and full. The dozen or so candles lit and set around the perimeter see to that.

They flicker in the light breeze as I dismount and help Marissa down. I tie the horse to a tree and take Marissa by the hand to lead her to the blanket. We stand facing each other for a long while before I turn her toward the ocean. I step up behind her, wrapping my arms around her and folding her body in close to mine, enjoying the view over her shoulder and the smell of her hair.

The moon is reflected on the water, laughter can be heard from the beach below, and, off in the distance, I can see our boat floating on the gentle waves of the calm water.

“This night is just about the perfect way to end the last few months.”

“It’s been wonderful.”

“No regrets?” I ask, resisting the urge to hold my breath until she answers.

“Are you crazy? I’ve never been happier.”

“You don’t miss your job or your friends or your family?”

“I have everything I need right here,” she says softly. She tilts her head to the side to glance at me. I kiss the tip of her nose.

I feel an intense relief already. She never talks about her previous life. And I never ask. Until now.

Step two, check.

“See that boat out there?” It’s the only one visible from where we are.

“You mean your boat?”

“No, I mean our boat.”

“Well, just because I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time in the captain’s bedroom doesn’t make it mine,” she teases.

“No, but the ownership papers do.” She leans away enough that she can turn to face me. “A few weeks ago, I had the title transferred into both our names. Well, sort of.”

“What do you mean, ‘sort of’?”

“Well, it’s titled to Mr. and Mrs. Nash Davenport.”

I hear Marissa’s hushed gasp. “And wh-why would you do that?” Her voice is breathy.

“Because I want my wife to know that she is a part of me, a part of my life, a part of everything I have and everything I am. All she has to do now is agree to marry me.”

Reaching inside my pocket, I pull out the ring that’s been burning a hole in my clothes for almost two months now while I’ve tried to find the perfect place to propose. Dropping to one knee, I take Marissa’s shaking left hand in mine.

Looking up at her, at the face I still dream about and the eyes that melt my heart, I feel the nerves disappear. I had wondered if there was any chance she’d say no. But looking at her now, the love she has for me bathing me as openly and completely as the huge moon above, I know she’s already mine. And I’m already hers. I have been since the first time I kissed her on a balcony in New Orleans, and I will be until the day someone puts my body into the ground.

“Please say you’ll be my wife. I want you tied to me in every way a man can be tied to the woman he loves. I can’t live without you and I never want to try. Share the boat with me. Share your life with me. If you will, I promise to keep you safe and happy every day for as long as I draw breath.”

She doesn’t say yes, but I’m assuming she means it when she pushes her finger into the engagement ring I’m holding. About two seconds after that, she bursts into tears and drops to her knees, throwing her arms around my neck.

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

“Yes,” she cries.

There are fireworks. Not on the horizon or ones that can be seen with the na**d eye, but they’re there nonetheless. In all the places that matter, all the places that I can feel. “Welcome to our future, Mrs. Davenport.”

“I love you,” she mumbles into my neck.

“I love you, too, baby.”

And I do. More than anything.

The End