He lets out a sound of total happiness, and then he swoops me up into his arms, his lips crashing to mine. He kisses me so fiercely that I can practically feel his love for me pouring in through his kiss.
My palms are pressed up against this chest, and I can feel his heart racing beneath them.
He lowers me to my feet, but his lips seem reluctant to leave mine as he continues sweeping soft kisses over my mouth.
“I love you so much,” he murmurs, his fingers threading into my hair.
“I love you, too.” I run my fingers over his cheek. “So, we’re really doing this, huh?”
He presses his forehead to mine, our noses touching. “Yeah, we’re really doing this.”
“And how will we do this? I mean, how and when will we get married?”
A grin appears on those lips of his that I love so much. “How does tomorrow sound?”
“Tomorrow?” I gasp. “So soon?”
“What’s the point of waiting? I want to make you mine as soon as possible.”
“I’m already yours.”
“But I want to make you mine officially, so no one can ever take you away from me.”
“No one’s taking me away, Adam. The only way I’ll leave is if I want to. And there’s no way I’ll ever want to leave you.” I push his hair back from his face. “You really want to do this tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I do. I want you to be my wife sooner rather than later.”
His wife.
His words touch deep inside of me. “Well then, tomorrow it is.” I swallow. “But where in the hell can we get married on such short notice?”
A grin spreads across his face. “Vegas, babe.”
“Vegas?” A strangled laugh escapes me.
“Yeah. Have you ever been before?”
“No. I’ve never had a reason to go.”
“Well, now, you do.”
“But…Casey’s appointment is next week…”
“We’ll be back before that with time to spare. I only need a few days of your time, and with you being off work for the next three days, it’s perfect. Meant to be. So, what do you say?”
I let my emotions take me over, allowing myself to feel the happiness he’s offering me. I wrap my arms around his neck, levering up onto my tiptoes so that we’re almost face-to-face. “I say, take me to Vegas, Adam Gunner, and make me your wife!”
He laughs deeply, his smile so big that it almost breaks my heart.
His hands find my ass, and he lifts me off the ground. I wrap my legs around his waist.
“You’re my family now, Evie. This is it—you and me forever.”
I rest my nose against his, staring into his ocean eyes. “Forever,” I echo.
The intro starts to play, and I see Evie freeze in the passenger seat beside me.
It’s like the radio is playing a sick joke on me. I never listen to this song. Ever. I have successfully avoided hearing it in nearly ten years, and now that Evie’s sitting here beside me as we drive to the place where we met and fell in love, our wedding song starts to play on the fucking radio.
Well, fuck Bon Jovi and their fucking “Livin’ on a Prayer.”
I reach over and change the music station just as Jon Bon Jovi launches into a full warble. And what do I get? Bruno Mars wailing “When I Was Your Man.”
For fuck’s sake.
This is not good, but it’s definitely better than listening to the song we got married to. And it’s definitely better than sitting in complete silence for the rest of the journey.
We’ve hardly said a word to each other since I picked Evie up from outside her apartment building in Culver City forty-five minutes ago. She told me she’d wait outside for me. I guess she didn’t want her dad or Casey to know she was going away with me.
And yeah, I know how long we’ve been in the car. I’ve been watching the clock. There’s not much else to do when sitting in the car with your soon-to-be ex-wife, whom you’re still fucking, than look at the road ahead, listen to the radio, and continuously check the time.
I’m just thanking God that we’re only a few more minutes away from the beach house. Otherwise, I might have to shoot myself.
I guess I didn’t think how it would be, actually spending time with Evie since we started sleeping together. Not that we actually sleep. We just fuck. Then, after we’re done, I go and hide in the shower until she leaves because I don’t know how to deal. Afterward, I spend the rest of the night and the next day telling myself that it won’t happen again, that I’m done. Finito, she is out of my system.
Until I find myself standing outside the coffee shop, waiting for her to finish working. Yes, I know her work schedule.