Lacey & Daniel

 

“Flight 350 baggage arriving at carousel five…”

“That’s us!” Lacey charged determinedly through the crowd of leisurely tourists, not even pausing to check if Daniel was keeping pace.

She knew he would be. In the eighteen months they’d spent together, they had their travel routine down to an art: from Paris, to Mexico, with family holidays in Chicago in between, Daniel was the one who kept track of tickets and flight times and boarding schedules, and Lacey?

Well, Lacey made sure they had plenty of snacks and magazines, and didn’t reach the gate too late.

Most of the time.

They’d just gotten back from their latest adventure: a trip to the Caribbean to celebrate Daniel making junior partner at his law firm in New York, and Lacey landing a big festival client at her event planning company. Although this trip had proven to be more adventurous than she’d ever planned…

“Is that my suitcase?” Lacey elbowed her way to the front of the line, peering at a plain blue bag hurtling down the chute.

“No, yours has that pink ribbon on the handle, remember?” Daniel reminded her, standing by.

“The one you made me use, even though it looks ridiculous,” Lacey teased him.

Daniel smirked. “Only because you made it all the way to our hotel that time in Miami before realizing you’d swiped some poor dancer’s luggage.”

“I think the correct term is stripper,” Lacey grinned. “At least, I hope she was one. Otherwise there’s no justifying those nipple tassels!”

Daniel’s smile turned wolfish. “I don’t know. We justified those just fine.”

Lacey laughed at the memory. They didn’t leave the hotel once that trip—there were way hotter things to do out of the sun. “And to think, you were so uptight when we met.”

“Gee, thanks!” Daniel protested.

“I’m glad I got you out of your shell, babe.” Lacey bounced up on her tip-toes and dropped a kiss on his lips. “Now look at you: Mr. Impulsive, flying by the seat of his pants.”

“And yours.”

He tugged her closer and landed a light spank on her ass. Lacey’s eyes glittered with flirtation as she beamed up at him. “Promises, promises.”

“Just you wait…Mrs. Sullivan.” Daniel savored the words, but Lacey’s face flashed with panic.

“Shh!” She leapt back and hit him lightly on the arm. “We made a deal! No Mr.- and Mrs.-ing until after this wedding!”

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Daniel argued, looking down at his new wife. She looked happy and tanned, and sexy as hell—and he wanted the world to know that she belonged with him. “They’ll be happy for us.”

“Sure, they’ll say so,” Lacey shook her head. “But seriously, no bride wants someone else showing her up on her wedding day. What are we going to tell them: ‘Surprise, we eloped’?”

“It was your idea,” Daniel pointed out, still amused.

Lacey snorted. “Sure, and you just happened to know where to find an officiant, and rings, and a flock of white doves on a tropical island with two hours notice!”

Daniel grinned. Nothing got past Lacey. He’d planned it for weeks, just in case—he told himself. But that was his style, and as much as he loved Lacey’s spontaneity, it couldn’t change the fact he’d wanted to have everything lined up for that perfect moment on the sunset beach when he’d dropped to one knee and proposed they get hitched—that same night.

She’d said yes, of course, like he’d known she would. That was the thing he loved most about Lacey: that for all her crazy, last-minute schemes, he never doubted for one second that her heart was true, and belonged to him.

The perfect match.

“Ooh, there it is!” Lacey caught sight of the ridiculous pink ribbon on the luggage carousel. She stood back, and let Daniel hoist it to the ground. He hadn’t checked any baggage, he just had a couple of outfits thrown in his neat little roll-on suitcase.

Men.

“So did you book the rental car?” Daniel asked, heading towards the exit.

Lacey stopped dead. Panic gripped her as she looked at the line by the rental booth, snaking ten people deep. “What?” she cried. “You didn’t tell me I was supposed to! And now we’ll be late, and miss the start of the service, and—”

“Relax!” Daniel cut her off, laughing. “I’m just teasing. It’s all booked.”

Lacey exhaled in a whoosh. “Don’t do that!” She hit his arm. “I nearly just had a heart attack, and my wedding outfit doesn’t come with a defibrillator!”

Daniel caught her hand and pulled her against him. “I’m sorry.” He grinned down at her, more unpredictable than she’d ever dreamed. “I couldn’t resist.”

“You’re lucky I love you so much, Mr. James.” Lacey couldn’t even pretend to stay mad.

“I’m counting on it.” Daniel kissed her long and hard, until her head was spinning, and she didn’t know if she would ever come back down to earth.

And that was just fine with her.

“C’mon,” he said, taking her hand—and her heart. “We’ve got a wedding to get to.”

 

*