Chapter 19

Claire

I couldn't sleep.

My heart was pounding out of my chest, and even though the air vents in the room were blasting heavily, I was sweating. I couldn’t stop thinking—smiling, about what lay ahead in the morning, about how my life would change when I became Mrs. Statham.

Nervous, I slipped out of bed and headed into the bathroom. I held a towel under cold water and pressed it against my face, being careful not to touch the strange white patches Bobbie Jo and Kim had placed over my eyebrows.

The spa treatments they’d put me through earlier were more extensive than the ones in Costa Rica, and they hadn’t allowed me to say a single word about any of them. They didn’t even let me see Jonathan when he showed up to my suite with flowers, claiming that seeing the groom the night before the wedding was bad luck.

I looked at myself in the mirror and exhaled. Sleeping without Jonathan by my side was never comfortable.

I decided to take a few swigs of wine to get through the night, but I heard a soft tapping at my door. I slipped into my robe and looked through the peephole.

Jonathan?

I cracked the door open, whispering, “What are you doing?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Are you calling the wedding off?”

“No.”

“Then you shouldn’t be here. Go away.”

He smiled. “Come go for a ride with me.”

I hesitated. “You’re not supposed to see me until the wedding.”

He pulled a pair of shades and a folded baseball cap out of his pocket. “Then I won’t see you. We need to talk...”

I slid the glasses over my eyes and pulled the cap over my head before stepping out of the room.

He took my hand in his and led me down the hall and onto the elevator, keeping his gaze straight ahead. When we made it to the lobby, the valet pulled his car around and held the doors open.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To our wedding venue.”

“Why?”

“Because we need to see everything together before tomorrow.” He waited for me to buckle my seatbelt before speeding off into the night.

Half an hour later, he pulled his car into the cobblestoned turnaround and helped me out. Slipping an arm around my waist, he walked me inside to where Miss Corwin and her staff were busy decorating away—making last minute adjustments.

She raised her eyebrow as we stepped in front of her. “Shouldn’t you two be in bed?” She smiled. “Separately?”

Jonathan kissed my cheek. “We wanted to take one final tour together, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.” She nodded and directed us down the hall, where her other staff was fiddling with ten foot tall flower arrangements. “The ceremony lawn is right through those doors, remember? And the reception room is down two halls and to the right. Actually...” She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket. “This is a scaled down blueprint of everything. Knock yourselves out, but I’m going to have to force you to leave in forty five minutes. I don’t want the photographers to have to edit baggy eyes from your pictures.”

We laughed and made our way down the hall.

I tried to steer us toward the reception room, to get a glimpse of the changes he’d asked her to make, but he held me close. “You’ll see it tomorrow.”

As we stepped outside and into the darkness, I could see hundreds of stark white chairs with ivory sashes, blush and pastel aisle markers, and a beautiful white gazebo that stood near the edge of the newly sodded grass.

“Come here.” Jonathan tugged me down the aisle and under the gazebo. He motioned for me to sit down on a bench. “I want you to look at this before I give it to you tomorrow—because after tomorrow, I don’t want you to ever take it off.”

He pulled out a ring box and held it out to me.

Shaking my head, I pushed it back. “It’s bad luck...Look at yours first.” I dug into my robe’s pocket and pulled out a box—placing it on his thigh.

He stared at it awhile, then he popped it open and—stopped. He pulled me close and held the ring under the light, sucking in a breath as he read the inscription aloud. “My last. My soul. My everything.”

He smiled and rolled the ring around in his hands; it was a platinum band with two thin strips of crushed diamonds, with “C” and “J” etched and entwined against a centered sea hook.

“This is beautiful, Claire...” His voice was hoarse. “I’m so sorry that I ever thought you didn’t design it...” He gently placed the ring back into the box. “Open yours.”

I flipped the box open and gasped at the stones that glittered against the night. Slowly prying it from its box, I ran my fingers along the white and blue diamonds that were shaped in a design of waves. The words “Mr. & Mrs. Statham” floated in between them, and on the inside of the band he’d etched, “Forever Yours, Always Mine.”

I felt tears falling down my face, and he slid a finger under my sunglasses to wipe them away.

“I want to read my vows to you.” He pressed a kiss against my wet cheek.

“I thought we agreed that we weren’t writing vows...”

“These are only for you to hear. They’re not appropriate to say in public...Why are you crying?”

“I’m not.”

“You’ll always be a terrible liar.” He wiped another stream of my tears away and leaned forward like he was going to kiss me, but he held back. “Claire Gracen...The first time I fucked you—”

“Seriously?”

“Of course not. I’m just making sure that you’re listening.” He smiled. “The first time I met you and you turned me down, I honestly thought you were out of your mind, that there was no way you didn’t want to go out with me. I thought you were just playing hard to get, but then you turned me down again at work....When I finally got a chance to take you out—on a short run, no less, and we barely talked...I knew that there was something special about you.”

“And the more time I spent with you—outside of the amazing sex we had, I couldn’t help but fall for you...I know you didn’t believe in having a second chance at love and that our age gap bothered you, but I want you to know that I never thought about our age gap for a single second, and I never will...If something tragic happens between now and our wedding tomorrow, please believe me when I say that I didn’t know what love was before you, and you are—without a doubt, the love of my life.”

My bottom lip was quivering and I’d given up on trying to hold back the tears.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and I can’t wait until you’re officially mine—forever...” He trailed his finger against my lips. “I’ll never hurt you, betray you, or allow anyone else to.”

“Jonathan...” I was crying now. He was too much.

“I’m going to continue to send you flowers every day because you deserve them, because there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you...And I promise to love, cherish, and fuck the shit out of you for the rest of our lives.”

I sniffled and let out a laugh. “Those vows were beautiful... Especially that last line...”

“That was the hardest one to write.” He kissed my forehead. “I love you, Claire.”

“I love you, too.” I leaned in to kiss him, but he held my shoulders still and whispered. “Tomorrow.”

I sighed. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going for our honeymoon?”

He shook his head and stood up, reaching for my hand. Then he slipped his other arm around my waist and walked me around the rose gardens he’d had imported from the South.

We didn’t say a word to one another. We simply slipped into that familiar quiet that easily enveloped us so often. 

We stared at the sky together, wishing on separate stars, and after he planted a kiss on my forehead he walked me through the venue again and drove me back to the hotel.

When we boarded the elevator, he smiled at me and peered beneath my sunglasses. The second the doors opened, he ushered me back to my suite.

“I’ll see you tomorrow...” I stood on my toes and brought his head down to mine. I was dying for him to kiss my lips. Just once.

“Tomorrow, future wife,” he said softly and kissed my hand. “You should probably get inside your room before I drag you into mine and forget all about the wedding.”

I laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodnight, future husband.”

**

I woke up to loud knocking at my door.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” I threw a robe on over my pajamas and opened the door.

It was Helen and Sandra.

“You’re late for your makeup.” Sandra clucked her teeth. “Bobbie Jo and Kim have been calling your phone for the past two hours. Did you stay up late?”

“No...”

“Are you having second thoughts?” Helen raised her eyebrow.

“What? Of course not.”

“Good.” She dragged me over to a chair and pushed me down. “Since you’re late, I’ll just have the girls meet us here to do everything. Sandra, could you call room service and have them bring Claire some breakfast? We don’t want her getting sick on her big day.”

Sandra nodded and disappeared into the bedroom.

The next few hours were a dizzying blur: Bobbie Jo and Kim did my hair and make-up to perfection; my eyes were layered in a soft glittering eye shadow and my hair was pulled into a beautiful chignon with loose ringlets that grazed my shoulder.

Hayley came and presented me with the garter she’d personally designed, my mother and daughters fiddled with my dress until they thought it was perfect, and a huge white bouquet of flowers was brought into the room.

I was reaching for the silver card that was attached to their stems, but Sandra snatched it away from me.

“Let’s see what Mr. Billionaire has to say to his fiancée on her wedding day.” She flipped the card open and cleared her throat as if she was going to read it aloud, but she burst into tears.

“Ugh.” Helen rolled her eyes. “Give me that...To my future wife: Today is the first day of the rest of our lives. With the exception of the first day that I met you—the day you came into my life, no other day will ever mean as much to me as today. You are the reason behind my happiness and you hold the keys to my soul. I love you, Claire...Hurry up and get here :-)”

Everyone in the room let out a collective “Awww” and wiped tears away from their eyes—even Helen. As they were passing around Kleenex, I slipped away to answer the knocking at the door.

Jonathan’s mother.

“Hi...” I eyed the dark red wine she held in her hand, hoping that she wouldn’t do what I thought she was here to do.

She noticed me staring at the glass and quickly tossed it back. “I’m sorry...It’s juice, not wine—and I would never...” She paused. “Do you have something borrowed?”

My eyes widened and I panicked. “No...No, I don’t. Oh my god—that’s really bad luck...I can’t believe I don’t have it.” I clutched my chest.

“Here.” She pulled a gorgeous pearl and ivory pin from her hair. “My mother wore it at her wedding and I wore it at mine. I thought I would...I thought I would give it to you, so you could...You know...” Her eyes were sincere but she looked as if she were bracing for me to turn her away.

“Thank you, Mrs. Statham.” I reached out to take the pin from her, but she slowly drew it back.

“Allow me,” she said and motioned for me to stoop down. “You make my son really happy, Claire...After all he’s been through, he deserves to be happy and I’m glad you brought that out of him.”

I felt the pin sliding into my hair, and when I was sure she was done, I stood up again. I looked at her a long time, fully aware that all my friends were staring at us—ready and waiting to pounce on her should she attempt to do something crazy.

Instead of dismissing her, I smiled and wrapped my arms around her—hugging her tightly. “Thank you for the something borrowed. I look forward to us starting over in the future.”

She sniffled as she hugged me back. “Me too, Claire. I mean, Mrs. Statham.”

“Are we ready?” Sandra cleared her throat. “The limo is downstairs and the groomsmen are already at the venue according to the director. Let’s go!”

**

My heart was in my throat.

Everything about our venue was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the ten foot archways that were made entirely of white and yellow roses stood tall and elegant on the lawn. The bridesmaids’ dresses—long and airy champagne gowns, perfectly matched the sparkling chandeliers I’d seen hanging in the hallway.

As our mothers walked down the aisle, I felt my bouquet slipping through my hands. It nearly fell to the ground as I watched Sandra and Helen walk out. Then it was Ashley and Caroline’s turn.

Miss Corwin reached into her pocket and dabbed my eyes with a Kleenex. “Don’t cry yet, Miss Gracen....Take several deep breaths.” She waited for me to follow her instructions. “It’s almost time...”

A deep voice said, “Please stand for the bride...” and I heard the rustling of chairs.

The first few notes of Robin Thicke’s “Angels” began to play and my heart nearly tumbled out of my chest.

I took one step forward and froze.

Breathe, Claire....Breathe...

I was shaking. I was way too nervous.

The song reached the middle of the first verse and I still hadn’t taken another step.

“Miss Gracen?” Miss Corwin’s eyes widened. “Miss Gracen?”

“I can’t breathe...”

She said a few words into the mic that was tucked into her sleeve, and the music suddenly faded. She put her hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. “Miss Gracen, this is going to be the happiest day of your life.”

“I know that...”

“You’re marrying the man of your dreams...Actually, you’re marrying the man of every woman’s dreams.”

I let out a nervous laugh.

“You can do this...” She lowered her voice. “And you better do this because he told me he’s coming after you if you take longer than three minutes to come down the aisle.”

I burst into uncontrollable laughter and she spoke into her sleeve again. “We’re ready now.”

She pulled a tube of lip gloss out of her pocket and applied one last coat to my lips.

Robin Thicke’s “Angels” began to play once more and she gave me a light shove.

I swallowed and took several slow steps forward, trying to focus on the piano keys of the melody. As the song neared the chorus, I approached the final floral arch and saw the audience standing to their feet.

Taking one last deep breath, I made my way to the edge of the aisle runner—where hundreds of white, yellow, and pink petals were perfectly swirled in series of the letter “S.”

I caught fragments of whispers from the crowd: “Pretty...Stunning...Beautiful...” and looked straight ahead. I started counting my steps—one, two, three, four—but as soon as Jonathan’s eyes met mine, nothing else mattered; no one else was relevant.

He briefly took his eyes off mine and looked me up and down as I neared the middle of the aisle

I could’ve sworn I saw him mouth, “You’re so fucking beautiful...”

He stepped down from the gazebo, and it looked like he was going to come down the aisle for me, but Corey grabbed his shoulder and held him back.

Smiling, I locked my eyes on his again, and took my last few steps to the altar. As soon as I was within his grasp, he reached for my hands and helped me onto the platform.

For the next few seconds, everything around us disappeared and it felt like we were the only people in the world.

I wanted to whisper “I love you” and I could tell he wanted to say it too, but we simply stood still staring into each other’s eyes—letting the silence say it all.

“You may now be seated.” The pastor’s voice broke us out of the spell. He hesitated a couple minutes before speaking again. “Dearly beloved—”

Jonathan slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me close, kissing me senseless.

The pastor cleared his throat and tapped him on the shoulder. “Mr. Statham?” The audience was laughing. “We haven’t arrived at that part yet...”

He whispered, “I don’t care” against my mouth, and slowly pulled away, taking my hands in his again.

“Let’s try this again...” The pastor joked. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness...”

I wasn’t listening to a single word he was saying. I was too busy getting lost in Jonathan’s incredible blue eyes, trying my hardest to stand still and wait for the part when we would finally be allowed to kiss.

I felt Ashley giving me a slight nudge in my back and looked over my shoulder.

“The ring...” She handed it to me and I turned around.

The pastor instructed for us to exchange rings and then he asked Jonathan to repeat his every word.

“I, Jonathan Statham.” Jonathan held me captive with his gaze. “Take you, Claire Gracen, to have and to hold from this day forward...”

“For better or for worse,” the pastor said. “For richer or for poorer...”

“For better or for worse, for richer or for richer.”

The pastor rolled his eyes. “...To love and to cherish...” He wiped his brow. “Jonathan Carter Statham, do you take Claire Alicia Gracen to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

When it was Jonathan’s turn to listen to me repeat the words, I felt tears slipping down my cheeks.

He leaned forward and wiped them away as they fell, watching me intently as I followed the pastor’s lead.

“Claire Alicia Gracen, do you take Jonathan Carter Statham to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

I looked directly at Jonathan, noticing that he was looking as if he was nervous that I would say anything other than the right words.

“I do.”

The pastor smiled and shut his book. “By the power vested in me—”

Jonathan cupped my face in his hands and kissed me like he’d never kissed me before—tenderly tracing my tongue with his as if we were alone.

“Mr. and Mrs. Statham.” The pastor didn’t even try to interrupt us this time.

There was roaring applause and deafening cheering, but he didn’t let my lips go. He pulled me even closer and whispered, “I love you, Claire Statham. I always will.” He took my breath away with another swoon-worthy kiss and then he finally let me go.

Before I could tell him that I loved him too, he scooped me into his arms and carried me down the aisle. The photographers captured his every step, telling us to look their way, but we couldn’t take our eyes off one another.

We approached the building and Miss Corwin stepped in front of us.

“Time for pictures! Mr. Statham, put Mrs. Statham down please.”

He blinked.

“Mr. Statham...” She crossed her arms. “You both agreed to take pictures directly after the ceremony. You’ll want these to look back on. Trust me.”

He sighed and gently placed me on the ground.

For the next half hour, we took several staged photos with the wedding party—me amidst the champagne colored dresses, and him amidst the black tuxedos.

We were also forced to take a series of shots together, and Miss Corwin had to practically tear Jonathan away from me when it was time to take my solo frames.

“Okay, lovebirds...” Miss Corwin walked us into the custom Sweetheart Suite. “Take a quick breather before dinner. Cocktail hour is already underway...How long do you think you’ll need to get ready for the reception?”

Jonathan looked me up and down. “Two hours.”

“What? You can’t let people wait for—”

“Two. Hours.”

“Yes sir...I’ll um...I’ll figure something out...” She left the room and he immediately locked the door.

He walked over to me and backed me against the wall.

“Jonathan—”

“Shhhhh...” He looked deep into my eyes and tilted my chin up to reach his lips. “The things I’ve been wanting to do to you, Mrs. Statham...” He kissed me so thoroughly that my knees went weak, that every nerve in my body instantly came to life.

“I want to go to the reception, Jonathan...” I said breathlessly.

“After.” He reached behind me and unzipped the back of my dress. “I’ve waited way too long for this...”

I stood still as he slowly peeled me out of my dress, leaving it in a fluffy white puddle on the floor.

He ran his hands along my satin corset, slowly untying every string—unclasping every hook. When it fell to the floor, he bent down at my waist and took the bow of my panties between his teeth, tugging at it until it unraveled and joined my dress on the floor.

He stood up and looked into my eyes, silently telling me to undress him.

Compliant, I slid his jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoned his pants, seeing that he was beyond ready to make love to me. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and pushed it off his shoulders.

As soon as it hit the floor, he picked me up and carried me over to the leather chaise, gently laying me on my back. He covered my body with his, and even though he’d been waiting for this moment forever, he hesitated. Then he gently brushed his lips against mine and gazed into my eyes.

“Mine, Claire...” he whispered. “Tell me you’re mine...”

“I’m yours...”

He threaded his hands in mine and held them over my head as he slowly slid his cock into me, pushing every thick inch further and further until he was completely buried inside.

We lay like that for several seconds, simply staring at one another as our bodies molded together for the first time in weeks. I couldn’t believe how good he felt inside of me, how I’d ever gone so long without having him. 

I gasped as he started to thrust in and out of me, as he pressed warm kisses against my chest and made me squirm beneath him.

“Be still, Claire.”

“I can’t...” I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his back, scraping my nails across his skin as he sped up his thrusts.

“I’ve missed this so much...” His mouth connected with mine again and he rewarded each of my moans with a deeper kiss. “So much...”

He rocked into me over and over again, caressing my face with his hands—never breaking eye contact with me.

“I’m going to...I’m going to—” I shut my eyes and screamed out as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through my body. I shuddered and shook as he came inside of me and softly collapsed onto my chest.

He slipped his hands to my hips and rolled us over so I was laying on top of him.

As I struggled to catch my breath, he rubbed his palms against my bare back and sighed. “Was the wedding everything you wanted it to be?”

“Yes...” I murmured.

“Are you sure? We can do it all over again until it’s perfect if you like.”

“It was perfect...”

“You were so beautiful coming down the aisle...It took a lot out of me not to pull you down into the grass in front of everyone.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” I sat up.

He raised his eyebrow and I didn’t even know why I doubted him. He would’ve.

“Can we go to the reception now?”

“No.” he skimmed his hands against my stomach.

“Why not?”

“Because we haven’t had sex in weeks and we have another hour that we’re going to take full advantage of.” He pulled me back down.

**

When we finally made it into the reception room—after Jonathan had his way with me three more times, there were tears in my eyes.

I’d always envisioned our reception in all white with subtle pops of color, but he’d changed it—for the better: The tables were draped in light ivory, with pastel yellow and pink centerpieces that perfectly complemented the sparkling lights that hung from the ceiling. Our name—“Mr. & Mrs. Statham” was etched in large black cursive in the center of the glass dance floor, and the beautiful sweets bar I’d been so adamant about having, was larger than I’d envisioned. It was a series of huge spiral stepped-displays, and it took up an entire wall.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the newly wedded Mr. and Mrs. Statham!” The DJ bellowed.

I looked over at Jonathan—who was standing on the other side of the grand steps, and slowly made my way down to the dance floor. 

He didn’t let me make it down the last few steps alone. He walked over to my side and reached for my hand, insistent on leading me to the dance floor himself.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me close, telling me he loved me again and again.

The lights in the room began to dim and a soft spotlight shone over us. As I wrapped my arms around his neck, the orchestra began to play—striking chords to a song I didn’t recognize.

“You changed the song?” I whispered.

“Yes.”

“What is it?” I was trying to place where I’d heard this melody before.

He said nothing. He simply smiled and moved me to the music.

I lay my head against his chest and listened to the strings sing softer and softer.

“At last...” Jonathan sang into my ear in perfect pitch. “My love has come along...”

My heart started racing all over again once I realized what the song was—Etta James’ “At Last.”

“The night I looked at you...” His voice was beautiful.

“You told me you didn’t know how to sing...” I looked up at him in tears.

“I told you I didn’t sing.” He kissed me. “I never said that I couldn’t.” He pressed my head back against his chest and continued singing the entire song to me, kissing me deeply as soon as he sang the last note.

When the lights brightened again, I leaned in and asked if we could just leave for the honeymoon now, but he shook his head.

“You wanted a perfect wedding, Claire. We have to do all the ‘perfect wedding’ things.”  He led me around the room and we greeted each and every guest.

We posed for pictures with our friends and family, laughed as we cut the three tiered cake together, and tried not to get carried away when it was time for him to remove my garter.

As the DJ began to play the upbeat music for dancing, Jonathan pulled me out onto the open balcony where a small table was waiting. He pulled out my chair, and the dinner we’d missed earlier was served to us in three short courses.

We ate in complete silence, simply looking up at one another and smiling each time our eyes met.

The second I finished my dessert, he helped me up and pulled me close. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes...”

He nodded and signaled to someone I couldn’t see. He led me back into the reception room, and the DJ announced that we were leaving.

“Do we really need to have the rice thrown on us as we leave?”

“That’s a ‘perfect wedding’ thing...”

“Okay.” He kissed me, and we waited for Miss Corwin to lead all of the guests outside.

“Mr. and Mrs. Statham?” She motioned to us. “Follow me please.”

We followed her down the hall and to the entry way of the venue, holding hands. When she gave the signal, we ran outside and down the long white carpet, dodging a heavy rain of rice and cheers.

Greg opened the door to the limo and Jonathan picked me up and placed me inside.

As soon as the door shut, his lips were on mine and his hands were all over me. I leaned forward and started tearing off his shirt, murmuring as he slid his hand behind the back of my dress.

I was tossing his shirt across the seat when I heard a series of loud popping noises outside.

I immediately stopped. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” He was still kissing me.

“That sound...It’s like gunfire.”

He let my lips go and smiled. “Fireworks.”

As if he could read my mind, he pulled me into his lap and placed his jacket over me. Then he rolled the window down and we watched as our names were spelled out in colorful sparks across the night sky: “Claire...” “Jonathan...” “Mr...” “Mrs...” “Statham...” “Together...” “Forever...” “Until...” “The Very...” “End...”

“Do I even want to know how much that costs?” I whispered, entranced.

“Probably not.” He smiled and ran his fingers through my now-tousled hair.

We watched the fireworks until they ended, until the only thing left in the sky was the stars, and by that time we’d made it to his plane.

He re-adjusted my dress and opened the door, but I grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait...Can you please tell me where we’re going? I need to make sure my staff has some of type of idea over the next two weeks...Just in case there’s an emergency and they need to contact me...I know you said we’re not supposed to do any work but—” 

“First of all, we’re going to be gone for four weeks, not two.” He held my face in his hands and narrowed his eyes at me. “Second, your staff will not be allowed to contact you. At all. Neither of us is doing any work and if there is an emergency, you’ll find out about it when we get back. Third, we’re going to eight different countries and you’ll find out what they are when we get there. And fourth, since you’ve always wanted to go...We’ll take a yacht through the Panama Canal on the way back and—”

I cut him off with a kiss and cried.

“Come on...” He led me out of the car and up the plane’s steps.

I didn’t wince when the plane roared down the runway, and I didn’t shut my eyes when we ascended into the air. I kept my gaze locked on his and smiled until the pilot said the newest set of secure words, “All clear, Mrs. Statham.”

As the flight attendant served us a bottle of champagne, Jonathan took my hand in his. “So, Mrs. Statham...Was our first time as a married couple special to you?”

“Yes...All four...”

“Hmmm.”

“You know sex doesn’t happen as often after marriage, right? That after the first six months or so, the honeymoon phase ends and you’re so busy that you have to schedule sex sometimes...”

He smiled and unbuckled my seatbelt with his other hand. “Claire Statham...” He pulled me into his lap. “What makes you think you and I will ever have that problem?”

“It’s natural. That’s just how it works. Now that we’re married, we don’t have to—”

“I’m going to fuck you every day.”

“No, listen—”

“Every. Day.”

I smiled. “You are so charming when you talk like that...”

“I’m well aware.” He smiled and eased me out of his lap before standing up. “My wife loves when I talk dirty to her, but she won’t admit it.”

“She sounds like she’s too classy for you.”

He rolled his eyes and led me into the private bedroom at the back of plane. Locking the door, he pressed his lips against mine. “For the record, Mrs. Statham, our ‘honeymoon phase’ will never end.”

“You don’t know that for—”

“Shhh.” He kissed me. “It was torture not being able to make love to you for weeks, Claire...You damn near broke me...You don’t even understand how badly I wanted you at your bachelorette party, how much it hurt to lie in bed next to you without being allowed to have you...But now that I know what it feels like to be with you again, I can fucking guarantee that I will never go a day without making love to you.”

“Is that another one of your agreements?”

“No.” He smiled and pulled me over to the bed, unzipping the back of my dress. “It’s a promise.”