The laughter around us died a bit as people went back to their conversations. My tailbone throbbed, but I managed to semi-smile and say, "It's okay."
His face looked as red as mine felt, and he scratched the back of his hat. "Uh, here, it's all yours," he said, handing the chair back. Not wanting to make things even more awkward, I took it and joined the large group, who let me know that I'd fit right in because I knew how to make an entrance.
I spent the whole class trying not to look over at gray-eyed hat guy, but my eyes wouldn't stop flicking in his direction. He totally had the Luke Bryan thing going for him, and he was always looking at me when I looked at him, then we'd both shoot our gaze somewhere else. To this day, I have no clue what we learned in that first class.
After the teacher dismissed us, I made sure not to trip over my heels as I made my way to the parking lot. But someone tapped my arm right outside the quad, and he fell in step with me.
"Would you like an opportunity to embarrass me? So we're even."
His voice was gruff and cool-like, and a burst of laughter flew from my mouth.
"You worked on that line for the last hour and a half, didn't you?"
"Did it work?"
I smiled. "Maybe."
He moved in front of me, walking backward. "I'm a terrible singer. We could go to a karaoke bar."
"Hmmm … no good. I'm eighteen and no fake ID."
"All right." He smiled, and I can still feel the leap my stomach took when he didn't care about how young I was. "Something else, then."
I stopped walking, tucking my hair behind my ear and clutching whatever book I had in my hand to my chest. "How about bowling?"
"Ah, see, that wouldn't work," he said with a tilt of his head. "The point is to embarrass me. Not embarrass you twice, Tumbles."
"Think you're that good, huh?"
"I know I am."
"Then embarrassing you will be more fun than I thought."
His grin did me in, and I felt like a melted pool of butterflies on the sidewalk when he asked, "You free tomorrow night?"
And because I had lost control over my tongue I said, "I'm free right now."
The second he called me "Tumbles," he had me. He didn't know it, but I sure as hell did.
I blink to the present, let out a content sigh, and click on BOOK NOW. Then I almost drop half our savings on the SAVE THE DATE, but I better make sure Landon's okay with me swiping the card.
The bedroom door opens down the hall, and I get a wave of Landon's cologne before he pops into the room. He pours two mugs of coffee, dumping four spoonfuls of sugar in mine and five in his, then sets the steaming hot deliciousness into my hands.
"Already planning?" he asks, gesturing to the screen. I blow across my mug and nod.
"Do you think five months is long enough?"
His brow crinkles. "Long enough to what?"
"Plan a wedding."
He lowers his mug, a smile on the edge of his lips. "You want to get married in five months."
"If that's okay."
"Whatever you want." He leans over to kiss my cheek. "I would've married you yesterday if you asked."
Warmth fills me up-though that could be the coffee-and I smile behind my mug wondering how the hell I got so lucky. Maybe if he's so agreeable, I don't have to worry about convincing him on the no-sex deal.
Hurdle number one … you're up. Maybe I should do stretches.
"Hey, so … I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Sure," Landon jams his phone in his back pocket and guzzles his coffee, eyes moving wildly over the counter in search of his keys or wallet. "But I'm running late, so make it fast."
I move the laptop to the coffee table and put on an excited grin. "I was thinking I wanted to make our wedding night really special."
He stops fumbling around for his keys, gaze flicking up to me. "Oh?" His grin gets wicked. "I most definitely will be up for that."
"Good, because here's what I'm thinking … " I say, and he goes back to digging around the counter. Here goes nothing.
"No sex till we're husband and wife."
Chapter 4
I feel like I've stepped into one of those movies where the main character presses pause, starts talking to the audience, and walks through all the frozen people around them. I purse my lips, holding back my laughter as Landon continues to stare, stare, stare at me like I've sprouted hair all over my chin.
"Um, babe?" I ask, waving my arm in front of me. "You still in there?"
He blinks. "I'm waiting for you to say 'Bazinga.' "
"I'm serious. I think it'll be fun." And get us out of our rut.
His eyebrow arches, and I wait for the inevitable "no," but it doesn't come. Instead, he unfreezes, swings his key ring around his finger, and says, "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yep." He pulls his jacket on and grabs his weathered Sweeney Todd baseball cap. He doesn't put it on just yet, walking over to me and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. "I'll call you on my break."
"Wait a second." I snatch his jacket pocket. "That was way too easy."
"You think it'll be fun. So let's do it." He grins. "Or not do it."
"You realize it's five months."
"Yeah."
"No sex at all."
"Okay."
"No form of sex."
"Yeah, I get it."
"And you're seriously just okay with no reason other than 'It'll be fun'?" I cross my arms. "I don't buy it."
He growls, sliding onto the couch next to me. "Okay … don't get mad … but you do this a lot."
My brows bunch in the middle of my forehead. "Do what?"
He runs a hand over his face, then around the back of his neck. "You get really excited about something, and then … well, the next day you just … aren't as excited."
Oh hell no. "You're lucky I stayed excited about you." I poke him in the chest, and he rubs the spot out with a laugh.
"You're right. I'm sorry."
Bull. He still thinks I'm going to flake out. He's dead wrong. If anything, he just sealed it airtight. Even if he wasn't going to go along with it, I've just shut my business down for … well, business.
"All right. Hands off until January." I smile big and determined. But a flash of confusion runs across his face.
"January … "
"That's five months, Landon."
"But January is Sundance."
Balls. Sundance is Landon's annual movie nerd orgy. He hasn't missed one since he was seventeen. Normally I'd be okay with it, and I'd suggest going with him, but the thought of all that snow has me shivering already.
"Can you skip one year?" I ask, knowing the answer before he even opens his mouth.
"It's Sundance, Lizzie."
"But it's our wedding now, too."
He pats his hat against his leg. "Does it absolutely need to be?"
His eyes swivel back and forth between mine, studying and begging and pulling all that manipulative puppy dog shit, but I just give him the same look back. I face the computer toward him.
"It's the only open date at the Boathouse for at least another year."
"And you don't want to wait till then."
"Do you want to wait a year with no sex?"
He smiles, but then stops with the look I give him.
"So … it has to be January?"
"It was our meet-cute."
A small laugh flits from his mouth. "What the hell is a meet-cute?"
"Well, in this case it was you dumping me on my ass and me wiping the bowling alley floor with you after." I grab his hand and squeeze twice. He squeezes back once. "Our meet-cute."
"That's why you want it in January … "
I nod, smiling as I see his wall cracking.
"So," he says, "honeymoon at Sundance?"
I wrinkle my nose. "Utah? Who the hell honeymoons in Utah?"
"Skiers," he offers. "And wives who really love and support their wannabe director husbands."
"Nice try." I pick up his cap and set it on my head. "I want somewhere tropical. A beach and sand and water. You in those red and black board shorts." I sigh, and he laughs at me. "Somewhere warm … please?"
"We can watch a movie about the beach … "
I growl, tossing my head back. "Landon!"
"Lizzie!" he mimics.
I kick him in the leg. "Can we fight about this later and get back to what we were talking about?"
"What? The no sex thing and how that somehow equals fun?"
"Yes, smart-ass. Sometimes delayed gratification gets my rocks off. You remember when you vacationed for a month?"
He grins a wicked grin and runs a hand up the inside of my shorts. "Mmhmm … "
"It'll be like that," I say as his fingers make a naughty trail across my underwear line, and I gulp so loud it echoes in my ears. "Only better because it'll be months and months."
"I told you," he whispers as he leans in. "I'm okay with it. I just don't think you'll last."