I know I shouldn't but I have to kiss her. Hard. On those perfectly made-up lips. I have to clutch her little body against mine and use this kiss to give her a taste of what's coming later. I have to make her feel not just my erection pressed against her — which certainly cannot be ignored at the moment — but how deeply I care about her. Respect her. Worship her. She grips my shoulders and deepens the kiss, releasing a little moan into my mouth. She's driving me crazy.
So crazy, I forget how long we've been kissing like that. Long enough that we're eventually interrupted by a very shaken looking bride.
"Uhm, guys?"
Chapter Sixteen
Ally
This was by far the biggest fuck up of my career.
Sam had told me and the ushers we needed to be on the lookout for any of Wren's family who might try to crash the wedding, especially her mother. And what did we do? Start making out on the porch.
It all turned out OK. Wren wasn't angry, and we arranged for her mother to attend the wedding with her brother, but her mother's boyfriend had to leave or stay in the car.
Between me feeling so apologetic that I'm thinking of returning the money Sam paid me for this event and eating all the costs of the supplies, and Smitty getting read the riot act by Sam, I'm wondering if Smitty and I should have pressed pause on our feelings from the beginning.
Although I'm extremely happy for Wren and Sam, I stand through the ceremony with a numb feeling in my gut. I feel Smitty's eyes on me throughout, but whenever I look his way, I feel a fresh wave of guilt.
After the cake is cut and the music is queued up, I feel like I should go quietly. I start to walk to my car. My assistant will get my binder and headset. The crew will tear down the tables and chairs. There's nothing left for me to do here, and it's probably best if I don't cast a pall on the rest of the day for everyone.
"Where are you going?"
I pause in my tracks. "Home."
"Let's dance. I need to talk to you."
"I should go. I don't want to do any more damage to this lovely event than I already have. I'll call you later to talk, OK?" I start to walk away again.
Smitty blocks my way and I have to stop. The field is filled with cars, heaving me nowhere to run. "Listen," he says. "You're going back to that wedding, and you're going to dance with me. And we are going to talk."
I gather up my intestinal fortitude and go with him. Smitty doesn't play the alpha card often, I can tell that about him. So when he's so insistent, I feel the need to listen.
It's almost too much to take. Even though Sam and Wren are completely over my mistake, I feel so bad about it and I know what Smitty is going to say. Before he can begin, I feel I should help him out. "Look, I know I've done something to damage your relationship with Sam, so I understand if you want to… if you want to… take a break from me."
His arms wrapped around me ignite a warm feeling of being protected and wanted, despite my good wedding planner judgment that tells me to go, and not to linger a reminder to everyone of the debacle I caused.
"Ally, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I don't want a break from you. Sam will get over it. He is over it. He's happy. Wren has already forgiven you."
"I fucked up so bad," I say.
"Hey," he says. "Stop beating yourself up. Nobody beats up on the woman I love."
I finally look up at him, thunderstruck. "What did you say?"
He laughs that funny laugh of his. "Did I shock you? Did I shock you with my love?"
I shake my head. "Smitty."
"I. Love. You. OK? Now get your ass in my truck."
As we're sneaking off in the farm truck, a voice behind us says, "You better marry that girl, or it ain't proper."
I whirl around and I see Sam and Wren.
"Knock it off, Sam," Wren says, elbowing her groom before turning to me. "I saw you leaving and I just wanted to say thank you. I would never have put a wedding together myself and this was better than anything I could have thought up."
She hugs me, Sam hugs me, and they insist that we drop any memory of mistakes that were made today.
"I'll check back in the morning to make sure the caterers and other vendors have left nothing behind, and I reminded my assistant that you all get to keep the centerpieces if you want, and…"
Sam and Wren but cut me off simultaneously, waving me off to continue sneaking off with Smitty. They shout, "Go!" as I wave goodbye and Smitty helps me into the truck.
I'm not sure what Smitty has planned but when we park down by the creek, away from the prying eyes of the wedding guests, but he's got blankets and pillows, a cooler, and a duffel bag in the bed of his truck.
"I thought we could sleep under the stars, if you're up for it," he says. "I grabbed your overnight bag from your car so you can change into something more comfortable for sleeping in. And I brought wedding cake and grabbed some beers from the open bar."
I'm not much in the mood for beer, though. And the wedding cake can wait until after I've said what I have to say.
"I love you so much, Smitty."
One swift move, and he lifts me into the bed of his truck, kissing me hungrily.
"Marry me."
It's a statement, not a question.
"Are you sure? I'm kind of a handful," I say.
Unexpectedly, he is not in the mood for banter. He puts about one inch of distance between us, just enough to lift the hem of my dress and slide his hand under my slip. "You're not a handful, Ally. This," he says, cupping my heat, "this is the only handful from what I can tell."
I gasp and feel the heat rise in my belly and spread across my skin, even through my industrial-strength wedding undergarments. "Oh."
He rubs me up and down. "Marry me, Ally."
"You don't think it's kind of fast?" I say, a smirk teasing the corner of my mouth. I can't help but tease him. I am loving the keyed up Smitty. He's normally so laid back, but when he's done with banter, he's done.
"Fuck that, lady," he rumbles. He pulls at my body-shaping garment under my dress and grunts. "Guess I can't rip these like I want to."
I bite his bottom lip playfully then say, "Let me help you out." When two people love each other, it's not so uncomfortable shimmying out of one's reinforced underthings. I discard the godawful thing over the side of the pickup bed with a flourish. "There you go—oh!" I barely have the words out before Smitty has my lacy panties ripped off and stuffed into his pocket. I yelp in delight and surprise.
"I need you now. And I need you to tell me the truth. Do you want to marry me?"
The truth is, of course I want to marry this man. And I need to get the words out as soon as possible. His caresses are so gorgeous and have me feeling so dreamily foggy, though, that that I've nearly forgotten what words are.
"Y…yes," I exhale. Taffeta rustles all around, my legs writhing to climb him, begging to get my whole body closer to him.
He lays me down on the blankets in the bed of the truck and nests himself between my legs, pressing into me with his hips.