A Very Dirty Wedding(107)

"Fine. But just because I'm distracted by this bacon doesn't mean I'm not stressing out inside," I tell him, as I put a piece into my mouth and immediately regret it. "Hot. Hot. Hot bacon."

I suck air into my mouth to cool it.

"You saw me literally just take that out of the pan," Caulter says.

"I'm pregnant," I tell him. "You wave bacon in front of me and expect me to think rationally about it's temperature? Okay, Ella is texting me about the schedule. She says the wedding planner could organize a wedding in the middle of a combat zone, and not to worry."

"Did she say anything about the Santa Claus incident?"

"Oh God, why did you have to remind me of that over breakfast?" I ask. But I don't push away the plate of bacon, because, let's face it, nothing, not even the traumatic memory of naughty elf and Santa will keep me away from a full pound of bacon.

"At least they're pretending it never happened," Caulter says.

"Which is exactly what I would like to do," I say. "So it would be awesome if we could just stop talking about the incident."

"I'll say nothing else about the incident."

"That would be advisable, if you ever want to have sex again."

"We should definitely have sex before the wedding," Caulter says.

"I don't think we're supposed to do that," I say, checking my messages. Bailey and Libby are texting me, pinging me one right after the other. "Bailey and Libby will be here in an hour for hair and makeup. If they can get here. They suggested that guests arrive on dogsled. Do you think the wedding planner really got horse-drawn sleighs?"

"I hope that's the only thing she got," Caulter mutters.

"What?" I ask. "Wait. What does that mean? What aren't you telling me?"

"You know how Ella can get a little bit…enthusiastic," Caulter says.

"What do you mean by enthusiastic?" I ask, my voice dark. "If this wedding becomes a three ring circus…"

"Well, she wasn't trying to get a bear as the ring-bearer, at least," he says, half under his breath.

"I heard that," I squeak. "She's not getting a bear. That is not happening."

"She didn't get a bear," Caulter says. "I absolutely promise."

I narrow my eyes, looking at him. "What. Did. She. Get."

"She was talking about a tiger cub," Caulter says. "I told her you would hate the idea."

"A freaking tiger?" I squeal, my voice going up an octave. "Why would she get a tiger to carry the rings down the aisle? Your mother's sister's kids are doing it!"

"She couldn't get the tiger," Caulter says. "Remember, she's just trying to help. It's how Ella shows she cares. And I'm sure she wanted the wedding to photograph well."

Now I'm going to hyperventilate. "Photograph well?" I ask. "She did not call in outside photographers. Did she? If there are paparazzi at the wedding…"

"No paparazzi will even be able to get through the snow," Caulter says. He stands behind me and slides his hands over my shoulders. "You're tense. You should let me relax you."

"Damn right I'm tense," I say. "There's like three feet of snow in front of our door; the wedding planner thinks she's going to cart the guests over here in horse-drawn sleighs and snowmobiles; and you just told me there might be a bear or tiger at the wedding."

Caulter spins me around on the stool I'm sitting on, so that I face him, and he takes my face in his hands. "This is our wedding day," he says. "And it's going to be completely perfect, no matter what happens. I love you, and I'm marrying you today, come hell or high water. Or ten feet of snow. Now, I think right now what you need to do is come with me into the shower and…come with me."

He slides his hand up the inside of my thigh underneath my nightshirt, the tops of his fingertips reaching the crease of my bikini line. And despite the fact that I think I may well have an aneurysm thinking about the very real possibility that my wedding day will be a complete catastrophe, a tingle races through me at his touch.

"You're such a poet," I say, as his fingers find their way up farther, stroking my clit.

"Wait until you hear my wedding vows," Caulter says.

"Oh God," I say, as he finds my entrance with his finger, slipping easily inside. "Don't say anything inappropriate."

"I'm Caulter Sterling," he says, covering my mouth with his. When he pulls back, he looks at me with mischief in his eyes. "Would I ever say anything inappropriate?"

I sigh audibly, and not just because of what Caulter is doing with his fingers between my legs. "That's exactly what I'm worried about."