Our Love Unhinged (Reluctant Hearts Book 4) (7 page)

And that’s the thing . . . if he already shows me that, if I already feel his love, what will it take to finally get through to me and put these fears to rest once and for all?

I’m not any closer to an answer when he walks through the door much later. He’s been gone for almost three hours, but it might as well have been three minutes for all the good the time alone has done me.

“Hey, baby,” he says as he steps through the door, locking it behind him. He comes over to where I’m perched at the foot of the bed and leans down to give me a kiss, pressing his lips to mine. “I hope you’re hungry. I got enough Thai to feed an army.”

I relax slightly, though I’m not sure why I thought he’d walk through the door and demand I start talking immediately. He’s not like that—has never been like that. He’ll let me do this on my time, if that’s what makes me comfortable. I follow him to the small dining table in the corner to help him unload. He’s already pulling boxes out of the bag, working quickly as he gets everything laid out for us.

As he places a carton close to me, writing on his left hand catches my eye. I don’t think as I reach out and grasp his hand in mine, tugging it to me for a closer look. For a split second, I think it’s marker. It has to be. Because even though that’d be a little weird—that he randomly scrawled my name on his finger—it’s easier to process than the alternative. But then I notice the slight sheen on the base of his finger—exactly what Cade’s skin looks like after he’s gotten a fresh tattoo—and I realize the single word on his left ring finger isn’t in his handwriting . . . It’s in mine.

Winter
.

Right there, for all the world to see, a week before our wedding is even supposed to take place, he’s branded himself with my name. Thoughts come rushing back to me of the night years ago, when Cade followed me onto the bus after he was a no-show at our unspoken date the previous two evenings. How he sat across from me, begging me for a date. How disappointed I was when I saw Haley’s name on his arm, assuming it was his girlfriend, and wondering what it’d be like to be loved by someone so much they’d want to mark themselves forever with your name.

I don’t have to wonder anymore.

“Cade. Oh my God.
Cade.
” My heart’s beating too fast, and I don’t know whether to puke or scream. “Holy shit. Holy
fuck
. You can’t—what if you . . .” I stumble through my thoughts, until suddenly they rush out of me like a tsunami. “God, what if you figure out I’m not enough? That I don’t have anything to offer you! I had one measly person to invite to the wedding. I don’t have anyone else! And then—
shit
—I was stressing about being an aunt to one kid and now I have to take on
two
. And what if
we
have kids? Oh my God. If I’m freaking out about kids who aren’t even mine,
what then
? You can’t just leave the tattoo behind like you can me! Why would you do that? Why would you
do
that?”

He ducks to try and catch my eye, but I can’t take mine off his newly marked skin. “This is all because you’re worried about not having anyone at the wedding?” he asks, his voice somehow calm while my throat is raw from yelling. “Baby, I don’t care if we go to the Justice of the Peace right now and get married with people they had to pull in as witnesses. If it ends with you as my wife, I’m happy. That’s all I care about.”

I scoff, pulling away as I pace the room, digging the heels of my hands against my eyes. My skin’s getting too tight, invisible fingers creeping up my neck and closing around my throat, and I can’t breathe. “It’s more than not having anyone to invite to the wedding, Cade! It’s about not being able to give you the family you deserve.”

“Baby,” he says, stopping my pacing and pulling me into his lap. He brushes the hair back from my face. “Breathe. Winter, you need to breathe.”

It’s only then that I realize I’m damn close to hyperventilating, my body covered in a light sheen of sweat. And suddenly I can’t hold back the tears. It’s all too much. Everything I’ve been feeling since I woke up with his ring on my finger comes pouring out of me. All I manage to get out is one word, over and over again.

Why. Why?
Why
?

Cade holds me to him, his left hand trapped between us as I clutch it to my chest. He presses kisses anywhere he can reach while his right hand rubs circles against my back, and he answers every one of my
why
s with, “Because I love you.”

When my throat is sore and my eyes are puffy and itchy, I’m finally cried out. He sits silently for a few minutes, his calm comforting in the face of my panic. Eventually, he shifts enough to pull something from his pocket, then slides it into my hand. Through swollen eyes, I glance down at the multi-folded postcard.

“Open it,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple.

Not wanting to release my hold on his hand, I fumble with the paper one-handed. To anyone else, it’d look like a generic postcard—just a picture of the Seattle Space Needle. But not to me. I recognize this postcard, and even before I flip it over, I know the exact words that will be written there.

No matter where I am, you’re my home.

And then I signed my name, never guessing that a year later, he’d use the same six letters to brand himself forever.

“I remember the day I got that in the mail,” he says against my temple. “You’d already left Seattle and were headed to New Mexico by the time it showed up in Chicago. I missed you so fucking much while you were gone, but I wanted you to do what you needed to. And I wanted you to do it without having my issues weighing you down, but I was scared, baby. I was so fucking scared you wouldn’t come back to me.” He hugs me closer to him, burying his nose into my neck and breathing me in. After a moment, he says, “And then I got this in the mail, and it was like everything clicked. I wasn’t scared anymore, because I knew it was the same for you as it was for me. I’ve carried it around in my wallet ever since to remind me.”

He pulls back far enough to meet my eyes, wrapping his fingers around the back of my neck as his thumb caresses my jaw. “I’m going to say this to you, and I want you to listen to me, okay?” He waits for my nod, then says, “
You
are the family I deserve. I don’t know what I did to make you think this thing between us was optional for me. That I didn’t need you to fucking
breathe
.” He brings my left hand to his lips, kissing my engagement ring. “You think even without this tattoo on my finger, you haven’t marked me forever? Whether it’s your literal name on me or not, I’m
yours
, Winter. I always have been, and this is me trying to show you that’s not going to change. You don’t have to be worried I’m going to bail or get fed up or tired of you. I’m in this with you, baby. For the rest of our lives.”

Somehow, though I thought I cried myself out, a few tears manage to slip down my cheeks again at his words. Cade leans forward and kisses them all away, whispering all the while how much he loves me. How much he needs me. How he can’t live without me.

It’s everything I’ve waited my whole life to hear. Everything I’ve spent most of my years years secretly dreaming of, even though I lied to myself about it and did whatever I could to avoid it.

Maybe it’s that it’s happening
now
, at this exact moment in time, or maybe it’s because he took these specific steps to show me how much I mean to him. Or maybe it’s because he shared an insecurity he felt. I don’t know what it is, but instead of hearing him through the filter I erected long ago, picking and choosing what words got through, I let every single one of them seep in. Let them settle into my bones until I feel them so deep inside me, I’m not sure where they end and I begin.

I don’t know how I got lucky enough to call this man mine, but I did. Somehow, despite my childhood and all the baggage that comes along with it, I did. And I’m done questioning it. I’m done living my life perched on the cliff of a bunch of
what if
s. I’m ready to start the rest of our lives together, right now. No fear. No questioning. No uncertainty.

Just love.

I
thought
I’d be a panicked mess. Assumed I’d be breathing into a paper bag or chewing my nails to the quick, but I’m not. I can’t believe that’s how this day is playing out, but I don’t feel even an ounce of nerves. Instead, I’m . . . excited. And anxious. Not in a bad way, but in a let’s-hurry-up-and-get-to-the-good-stuff way. I can’t wait to see Cade, can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees me in my dress, can’t wait for him to become my husband.

Unfortunately, the nerves that aren’t present in me have completely taken over Tessa. She flits about, making sure everyone’s hairstyles are staying exactly how she wants them, even though I’m pretty sure the fourteen cans of hairspray she used will do the trick. Hair was something I let her have free rein over, obviously. I wasn’t going to tell the hair stylist thanks but no thanks.

And actually, I let her have free rein over most things, because those items just weren’t important to me. The hairstyles (mine down and loosely curled—just how Cade likes it, she said), bridesmaid dresses (short, strapless, and navy blue), and flowers (sunflowers, white roses, and daisies), were all her suggestions, and I just went along with it.

Turns out the only thing I really care about is exactly what Cade told me last weekend. As long as the day ends with me being his wife, I’m happy.

“Holy shit, we’ve only got five minutes,” Tessa says, fussing with another piece of my hair. “Paige!”

“I’m right here, Captain Crazypants,” Paige says from the couch, flipping through a magazine. “Honestly, this isn’t Kate and Prince William’s wedding. You can chill the fudge sticks out.”

“What’s that mean, Auntie Paige?” Haley asks from her spot next to Paige, mimicking her as she turns the pages in her own magazine.

“It means your mom is going cuckoo,” she says, making a silly face at Haley, who dissolves in a fit of giggles.

Tessa shoots Paige a glare, then turns back to me, adjusting my hair once more and smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles in my dress. “I just want everything to be perfect for you,” she says to me.

“Is Cade standing out there?” I ask.

She freezes in what she’s doing and meets my eyes, then steps off to the side and looks out the window into her childhood backyard. I haven’t even seen how they set it up—more of Tessa’s doing—and while I’m excited to see it, as long as Cade is standing at the end of the aisle, I’ll be happy.

When she turns back to me, she nods, smiling, but her eyes are shiny with tears.

“Seriously? Are you
crying
because your brother—
the groom
—is standing exactly where he’s supposed to be standing?” Paige asks.

“Shut up,” Tessa says, dabbing at her eyes. “I can’t wait to see what you’re like when you’re walking around with all these crazy hormones.” She waves a hand in the general vicinity of her nearly unnoticeable baby bump, hidden under the flowing fabric of her dress.

“Gonna have to wait a while for that.” Paige stands and tosses her magazine onto the couch, then plucks Haley’s from her hand before picking up her bouquet. “Showtime, Haley girl. Grab your basket. Let’s get this show on the road.”

* * *

T
he guests are all sitting
, their eyes focused on Tessa and Jason, then Paige and Adam walking down the aisle, followed immediately by Haley as she tosses flower petals down. As I step out from the side of the house, I can make out enough of the back yard to see Tessa did an amazing job decorating for our small wedding, keeping it low key and simple while making it absolutely breathtaking.

The music changes, the notes signaling my entrance, and I take a deep breath. Two dozen guests move to stand in front of white wood folding chairs, set up on either side of a flower petal-strewn aisle. Strings of lights are hung above them, anchored on either side by the massive trees in our backyard, and dozens of small glass bottles filled with sunflowers and daisies hang from the branches.

The walk to the aisle from the side of the house is the longest seventeen steps of my life. And then I’m there and Cade’s waiting for me at the end and I can’t take my eyes off him. The gray suit fits him impeccably, his broad shoulders filling out the jacket to a distracting degree. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen him dressed up, and while I definitely prefer his casual clothes for every day, I can’t deny how hot he looks like this, with just the barest hints of his tattoos peeking out of the collar and cuffs of his tailored dress shirt. His lips part as he looks his fill of me, his gaze sliding down the length of my body encased in white silk before he meets my eyes, and then his lips lift in a smile. It’s a smile that takes my breath away—one that says I’m his whole world. I can’t break away from his gaze for a second, even to look at the guests who showed up for our special day.

He’s all I see.

Instead of waiting for me at the end of the aisle like he’s supposed to, he steps toward me until suddenly he’s right in front of me, and then his hands are cupping my face, his eyes staring down at me.

“You are beautiful,” he says just before he presses his lips against mine. The kiss is soft and sweet, the hoots, laughter, and clapping of our guests fading into the background as Cade cradles my face like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him and kisses me over and over again.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Paige says. “The quicker you guys get up here and let this nice man perform the ceremony, the faster you can sneak off and do more of that.”

Another wave of laughter echoes around us as Cade and I break apart with a smile, then he links my arm through his and walks me the rest of the way down the aisle.

With his eyes never straying from mine, he tells the officiant, “Get this done as fast as humanly possible, please. I’m ready for her to be my wife.”

Funny thing . . . I’m finally ready for that, too.

* * *

T
hose were
the longest hours of my life, being able to touch Winter but not being nearly close enough. It’s well after midnight by the time we’re finally alone, and I’m seconds away from being inside her.

Or I would be if I could figure out how to get my wife out of this damn dress.

My wife.

Jesus, I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that, but if the past several hours are any indication, I’m going to say and think it as much as possible just to test the theory.

“How many fucking buttons are on this thing?” I ask as I fumble with her dress.

“I told Tessa you’d hate the dress,” Winter says, laughter in her eyes as she looks at me over her shoulder.

“I don’t hate it. I
love
it.” And I do. Whenever I pictured Winter walking down the aisle toward me, I never had a clear idea of what kind of dress she’d be in, but the one she picked—the one that shows off all her curves, that hugs her body and makes her look like a fucking goddess—is perfection.

Moving her hair out of my way, I kiss down her back until I’m on my knees behind her, trying to get my overgrown fingers to work with these toddler-sized buttons. She’s no doubt exhausted after the day she’s had—hell, I am, too. That’s one thing people don’t mention when talking about the wedding night. Honestly, I’d be happy just to have her fall asleep in my arms and wake up with her next to me. But if I can do all that after being inside my wife, all the better.

“You want me to help you?” she asks.

“No.” I press a kiss to the indentation of her spine, just above the small of her back. “I’ll get it.”

She shudders, goosebumps covering the skin I can see. Reaching back, she tugs me closer to her and says, “Well, hurry up. I’m impatient to fuck my husband.”

Jesus Christ.

Apparently all I needed was a little incentive, because I get the buttons undone and the dress off in four minutes flat. And then she’s standing there in front of me in the tiniest pieces of white lace lingerie I’ve ever seen. I think my cock might actually find a way to escape the confines of my dress pants without any help.

Especially when she steps toward me, her breasts directly at eye level. Her nipples are hard, already straining under the sheer lace. Leaning forward, I suck one into my mouth through the material as I try to get out of this suit as quickly as possible. Winter’s moans only spur me on faster, especially when she brings one hand to the back of my head and holds me to her while the other delves into the front of her panties. I’ve managed to rid myself of everything but my pants and boxers, but I can’t wait anymore.

I grip her under her ass as I stand, carrying her toward the bed. “You did that on purpose,” I say as I toss her onto the bed, then cage her in under me.

“Did what on purpose?” she asks, looking at me with a glint in her eyes.

And, Christ, I never thought I’d be so happy to see a teasing expression on her face, but the relief is palpable. All day, throughout the ceremony and then the reception, I watched her. Looking for signs of nerves. Of uncertainty or regret. And all I saw was happiness radiating out of her.

Lowering my head, I nip at her bottom lip. “You know exactly what you did, Mrs. Maxwell.” I suck her lip into my mouth, then let it go with a pop. “Your husband wants to be the one who gets this pussy worked up, so stop playing with it.”

She breathes out a laugh as I make my way down her body, until my shoulders are parting her thighs and I’m hovering right over exactly where I want to be. Her laugh turns into a breathless moan as I lick her through the lace of her panties, pulsing my tongue right against her clit.

“Cade,” she says, all breathless and wanting, and the sound manages to harden my cock even further.

Normally, I’d work her up—tongue her pussy until she comes against my mouth, until she’s begging me to fuck her—but the honest truth is I can’t wait tonight. I can’t wait another minute to find out what it feels like to be inside my wife.

After shoving the pants and boxers from my legs, I strip her until she’s bare under me, and then I’m rocking into her, sliding into all that perfection.

“
Jesus
.” I grasp her hip with one hand and slip my other underneath her back to grip her neck, balancing my weight on my forearm. Rolling my hips, soft and slow, I stare down at her. Her breath is coming out in pants as she digs her fingers into the flesh of my shoulders, my arms, my ass.

“Cade,” she breathes. “Faster, please.”

I’d normally respond to that request on her lips by snapping my hips forward. But not tonight. Tonight, I want slow. Tonight, I want to take in every tiny detail so I can remember it forever. How her lips part as she pants my name. The feel of her breath against my face. The look in her eyes as she stares up at me. How her declaration of love gets cut off as her climax slams into her. The utter perfection of how she feels pulsing around me.

“
Fuck
, you feel so good.” I brush the hair back from her face, kiss her slow and deep as I continue the unhurried rocking into her. “Think you’ve got more in you?”

She breathes out a laugh, then wraps her hand around my neck and tugs me down. “I think you’ll probably make sure I do.”