Within a week we have a fully furnished home, a stocked kitchen, and our marriage license. Trick breaks the news to a very grumpy Grady about our move and plans to stay here indefinitely. Since he’s in LA I wouldn’t put it past him driving down here and personally strangling Trick. Rogue Seduction is closed until Trick’s replacement can be “discovered” as Grady puts it.

As for my place, Nana agrees to take care of the necessities. I tell her to sell it; I really don’t care, but she insists on keeping it in case I decide to come “home.” My work on the other hand, not so pleased. I told them I was taking personal time, not quitting. But it only took two days here to make the call that I wasn’t coming back. I think the marriage license pushed any doubt out of my head.

This feels like a honeymoon, although we’re not technically married yet. It’s easy to walk out from our veranda and gasp at the incredible beach that is our backyard to paradise. I keep thinking I should start packing my bag because vacation is almost over. But it’s not, so I’m going to keep my ass planted in the sand until life pulls me out.

“You really should start coming with me. There were twelve of us today.” Trick stands in front of me blocking the sun. I can’t complain. He’s in his shorts, no shirt, and gripping a towel draped around his neck. He missed a few beads of sweat trickling down the bumpy terrain of his chest.

“I’m not that great at yoga. I’m more of a cycle girl.”

“Tomorrow you’ll come with me.” Trick’s words have a finality to them.

“Hey, neighbors.”

Trick turns and I lean to the side to see past him. A young guy with a surfboard makes casual strides through the sinking sand over to us. A stark white smile graces his face that gives way to a lean bronzed body that’s been perfected by hours of sun and surf. He runs a lazy hand through his wind tossed mess of copper-blond hair then offers his hand to Trick.

“Hey, I’m Declan. You must be the new neighbors Martin said we have.”

Martin Cruz, our landlord, owns four homes along this stretch of beach.

“Trick and Darby Roth,” Trick squeezes his hand and my jaw comes unhinged.

“Nice to meet you.”

I stand, brushing the sticky sand from my legs. “Darby Carmichael.” I offer my hand without missing the twitch of frustration in Trick’s stone face. “We’re not actually married yet.”

Declan takes my hand. “Oh, well when’s the big day?”

“Today,” Trick announces as my eyes bug out at him.

Lip twitch. Arrogant fucker!

Trick snakes his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side and forcing me to release Declan’s hand.

“Congratulations! That’s awesome! You doing a beach wedding? Lots of family or just a few friends?”

My tongue remains thick and numb as I wait with anticipation for these answers right along with Declan.

“It’s just us. We’re getting married not having a wedding.”

His words steep in my mind. Do I get a say in any of this?

“Ah man, you guys should have it on the beach. It’s going to be killer weather today and Martin can do the ceremony. He did three just last month.”

Trick looks around and shrugs. “Sunset?”

Declan grins and nods. “Now we’re talking. I’ll handle everything. See you back here in about six hours.” He jogs off and turns with a final wave. “Nice to meet you, neighbors!”

Trick pulls me into his chest, an unavoidable smirk curling his lips.

Drawing my head back and cocking it to the side, I squint my eyes. “Oh. My. God! Did you just plan my wedding with a complete stranger right in front of me?”

Trick cups my neck and pulls me closer until my head tips back to look up at him. “A marriage ceremony, not a wedding.” His lips press to mine as his other hand tugs at the tie to my bikini top while he moans into my mouth.

“No.” I push away leaving him panting with an insatiable hunger in his mischievous eyes. “If I don’t get a say in my ceremony, then you don’t get this…” I shake my head while retying my top “…until I legally bear your name.”

His eyes stretch wider. “Are you refusing to have sex with me?”

“Yes.” Pivoting in the sand, I grab my towel and walk to the house with my shoulders back and an extra sway in my hips.

As I pour a cup of juice, the veranda door opens and Trick walks in completely naked.

The glass jug clanks to the counter as my grip weakens.

“I’ll be in the shower, in case you want to watch.”

I gulp down the juice in my mouth. “No need. I already pleasured myself while you were doing yoga,” I lie, because damn his arrogance.

I hear a thud and “fuck,” presumably my cocky, soon-to-be husband literally tripping over my words on his way up the stairs.

I feel like I’m in a car with the top down, the warm love of the sun on my face, the breeze dancing with my hair, the radio breathing an endless serenade, and the man of my dreams driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my leg—the occasional gentle squeeze to remind me this perfect dream is my life.

“Where did you go?” I ask as Trick walks up behind me while I attempt to add a few purposeful curls to my hair.

He wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles his lips into my neck, eyes on our reflection in the mirror. “You’ll see.”

I frown in the mirror.

“Why the face, sexy?”

“I need Gemmie. It’s my wed—I mean my ceremony day…” I roll my eyes at him “…and my hair’s going to look like a damn bird’s nest.”

“You look perfect.” He nibbles the sensitive skin below my ear.

I sigh. Tossing aside my curling iron, I shrug out of his grip to go get my phone.

“Where are you going?” he calls, but I ignore him.

Grabbing my phone off the kitchen counter, I do what any girl in my shoes would do. I text my BFF.

I tap the screen of my phone for a few moments until it chimes.

My smile grows … my heart overflows.

When I stop in the doorway to the bathroom, Trick crooks his finger at me. Tears sting the back of my eyes as I walk to him and he lifts me up on the vanity. “My friend is going to be the envy of the ocean and chase away the sunset with her beauty. Then she’s going to marry a guy completely undeserving of her love.”

I try to swallow back emotion as he catches my tear with his thumb. “You’re not going to stop until you’ve claimed every single piece of my heart, are you?” I whisper.

He ghosts his fingers along my jaw, tilting his head to the side with a gripping intensity to his eyes. “I’m not going to stop until I feel your soul take my last breath.”

I think his just took mine.

There’s nothing he can’t do. Sometimes I actually hope he’ll choke on his food or twist an ankle just so I can be the one with the skills. Even chatty Gemmie would fall speechless if she could see how Trick has transformed my stubborn flames into a controlled fire—stunning and mesmerizing. My make-up—a work of art.

After applying lotion to every inch of my body, I emerge from the bathroom. Trick looks out our windows with his hands resting in the pockets of his dark denim jeans, fitted white button down dress shirt hugging his every curve with the sleeves rolled up, tats on show. Melt …

“Come.”

Melt some more …

I follow him into the closet.

“Trick …” I hold back the tears because I will not mess up his hard work.

He eases my robe back over my shoulders until it slinks to the floor at my feet. Then he takes the white strapless sundress with a lacy overlay off the hanger. I step into it as he holds it. While he zips the back I run my hands over the delicate material. “Where did you get this?”

“In town, the shop owner made it. She had it in back for a ‘special occasion.’ I convinced her it wouldn’t get any more special than today, gracing your beautiful body.”

“How can this…” I shake my head in amazement “…this day with no friends and family feel so … perfect.” I turn to him and press my palms to his dark bristly face. “Because it is …” I whisper, “… it’s perfect.”

His eyes, usually so dark, sparkle with life … our life. “Come.” He takes my hand and leads me to our sandy backyard with a handful of complete strangers in casual beach attire. They’ve lit an enchanted pathway of glowing lanterns from our veranda to the beach where the setting sun casts heavenly shades of violet, yellow, and orange on the end of our day and the beginning of our forever.

Martin Cruz, our landlord slash ordained minister, grins behind his scraggly salt and pepper beard. He’s exchanged his crazy-colored island shirt for a soft yellow collared linen and white shorts. In our bare feet we make a casual stroll hand in hand to our gracious group of witnesses. We both smile at Martin and turn toward each other. He says a few words about love, life, and commitment. I hear none of it. All that my mind can think is “How did he choose me?”

“Trick, what would you like to say to Darby?”

Trick smiles—my smile. “This is all I have to give you—me.” He lifts his shoulders and his vulnerability rips away a little piece of my heart. “A book with blank pages, weathered edges, and eraser marks, that’s what I am. I need you to paint my future, write my story in permanent marker, just like the mark you left on my heart the day we met. Your touch is the only thing I feel, your voice the only thing I hear, your face the only thing I see, but your love … your love, my beauty, is the only thing I need.” He squeezes my hands and my eyes respond with a few tears. “Memories are mortal emotions, but love … what the heart feels, it never forgets. I’ll never forget you, so be my wife, Darby. Write a story with me that never ends.”

I press the pads of my middle fingers to the corners of my eyes then take Trick’s hands again.

“Darby, what would you like to say to Trick?”

I laugh and blink back the impending emotions. “There’s twenty-six letters in the alphabet that can be arranged to express an infinity of emotions.” I shake my head. “But not mine, not for you. There are no words to express the way my whole world falls at your feet, staring up in awe at my best friend, my lover … my forever. The river of love for you that runs through me is deep and all consuming. I came alive for you. With the soft stroke of your brush, you painted my life a million shades of amazing and now my heart finds its rhythm from your love … our love … forever. So be my husband, Trick. Let our story be the only one that matters.”

Martin clears his throat and grins. “Do you Trick take Darby to be your wife?”

“I do.”

I release a small sob disguised as a laugh.

“Do you Darby take Trick to be your husband?”

“I do.” My words are but a whisper, caught in a knot of emotion.

“Then with the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. Trick, you may kiss your bride.”

Our small gathering of witnesses clap and holler as Trick holds my face and kisses me, not letting the onlookers interfere with our moment. It’s slow and patient as our tongues make languid strokes against each other.

“I love you,” he whispers over my lips, releasing me.

“I love you.” I say it but I’m sure he and everyone else can already see it in my ridiculously large grin that is on my face to stay.

“Congratulations!” Declan slaps his hand on Trick’s shoulder and gives him a manly squeeze of approval. Then he holds out his arms and I smile while he embraces me like we’ve known each other far longer than eight hours. “Come meet the rest of your neighbors.”

Trick pulls me into his side as the rest of the small group closes in on us.

“This is Colby. He’s taking a year off college to find himself.” Everyone laughs. “So if you see his ghost or twin, let us know.”

Colby rolls his hazel eyes, flipping his carefree, dark surfer hair off to the side. “Says the guy who’s still not been accepted to medical school.”

Declan shrugs. “I’m just struggling with a few classes that’s all.”

“Med school, huh?” I smile. “Let me know if you need help with anything. I was a physician’s assistant in Chicago.”

“Really? That’d be awesome. Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do for our wed—I mean, ceremony planner.”

Trick digs his fingers into my side showing his lack of appreciation for my mocking him. “Originally, I thought we’d make love tonight, but you seem to be asking for me to fuck you hard,” he whispers in my ear.

I hope the dark blanket of night covers my red face as everyone stares at us, probably thinking my doting husband just whispered sweet nothings into my ear. They have no idea he’s not always a gentleman.

“Ahem …” The guy next to Colby clears his throat.

“Sorry, dude. This is Wes. He’s a marine biology student and he’ll be here for the next few months to observe the whales, aka get college credit for surfing.”

Wes smacks Declan in the back of the head, and we laugh. “Nice to meet you and congratulations.” Wes is stocky with cropped blond hair, not the typical surfer look.

“Thanks.” Trick and I both smile.

“And last but definitely not least, this is Mallory, Colby’s girlfriend.”

“Fìancée.” She corrects him holding up her ring finger.

Declan rolls his eyes. “Whatever, you’ve had that ring for two years and still no wedding so I’m no longer sure it’s really an engagement ring.”

She sticks out a pouty lip and flips back her long dark hair revealing some serious silicon pouring out of her small halter top sundress, then elbows Colby in the gut. “We’d have a date set if a certain someone would hurry up and find himself. Anyway, Trick and I met this morning. I did yoga with him.”

I make a quick glance at Trick, who keeps an impassive look to her comment. Then I look to see if his eyes are tempted by the large rack. Just in case old habits die hard. Yep, he’s staring.

I snuggle into him pretending to nuzzle his neck. “If you don’t stop gawking at her rack, the only thing you’ll be fucking tonight is your hand.” I smile at everyone as they look at us like we’re the poster couple for happily ever after, and we are … or we will be after we get a few things straight.

Trick’s fingers dig yet a little deeper into my side, but I don’t know why. I’m not the one staring.

“Well, we should let the newlyweds have some alone time,” Martin interrupts. “And it is a Wednesday so some of us have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Who might that be?” Declan jokes.

“Well, we really appreciate this. It was so kind of all of you to befriend us and make this such a special day. We should hangout this weekend or something … if you want.” I hate the never-been-accepted-school-girl insecurity that bleeds from me. They don’t know me and I have no reason to think they wouldn’t want to be friends, but my confidence has been beaten down too many times.

“Absolutely!” Declan replies. “We live right over there.” He points to the house down the beach a little ways. “Martin rents it out to my parents but they’re over in China for the next six months so we decided not to let a perfectly good beach house sit vacant.”

I nod and smile.

Everyone exchanges hugs and I hate the way I watch Trick to see how his body responds to Mallory and her cleavage. I was jealous and possessive when I thought he was gay. Marriage could push my limits past the boundaries of all reason.

As the small group trudges off through the sand we watch them in silence for a few long seconds; then Trick turns and pulls me into his arms. “Don’t.”

I lift my shoulders, avoiding eye contact.

“Mrs. Roth, look at me.”

I can’t hide my faint smile as I look up.

“Have you ever seen the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile?”

I laugh at the words I never imagined coming out of his mouth. “Yes, why?”

“Does it catch your attention when you see it?”

“Yes, why?”

“Is it because you wish you could drive it or you wish you had one?”

Another laugh and a head shake. “No.”

Trick jabs his thumb in the direction of our neighbor’s house. “That rack was the Wienermobile.” His hands slide to the zipper of my dress. I close my eyes as he drags it down with seductive patience, eliciting a flood of prickly goose bumps across my skin. “You, my sexy, beautiful wife … you are a Ducati.” My dress falls to the sand.

My heavy eyelids flutter open as his mouth claims my neck, his hands feathering down my arms. “A Ducati?”

“Mmm hmm.” He works the buttons of his shirt, letting his lips hold me submissive to his touch. “My bike is a Ducati.”

“You love your bike?”

“Very much.” He tosses his shirt to the side and my hands claim the tat-covered skin I crave. He’s so damn sexy; my body feels on the constant edge of convulsion just from the heat of his skin.

“More than me?”

Trick stills, his mouth a breath away from mine. He stares at my lips and then flits his eyes to mine. A lip twitch. “No.” He moves to capture my kiss, but I pull away.

“Oh my God! Did you have to think about it?”

In the darkness his teeth shine white. He grabs my waist, stealing my breath as he lifts me to him. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me to the house.

“You hesitated!” I clench his hair and tug it, making him look at me.

He tries to dip his head down to my neck.

“You hesitated!”

As he carries me up the stairs to our bedroom, I keep a firm grip on his hair.

“I married you.”

“Because they wouldn’t give you a marriage license to marry your stupid bike.”

Plopping me down on the bed, he straddles me. His face so close to mine our noses touch. “Now there’s no need for name calling, and I hesitated because I couldn’t believe you even asked.” He drops slow kisses on my face. “My bike makes me feel good about my hard work. It’s the nicest thing I’ve purchased with my own money.” He slides his hand behind my head. “You make me feel good about myself. You’re not my possession…” he presses his lips to mine, our tongues colliding in an explosion of need “…but I still want to possess … every … inch … of … you.”

I close my eyes. His mouth skims down my neck to my shoulder, across my collarbone, and down to my breast.

“Possess me …” I breathe out.

My husband … dear God … my husband stands and removes the rest of his clothes and pulls off my lace panties. “I have the most beautiful wife.” Trick kisses the inside of my ankle and makes the moment an eternity … an infinity of love. Lips, breath, tongue, hands, and every other inch of his body worships mine like I’m his religion and this bed is our church. And I swear his love is God sent and his touch is a glimpse of Heaven here on Earth.

“Trick … it’s too much,” I plead as he brings me to the precipice over and over. Buried inside me, he drives me to ecstasy and then pulls out and tortures my sensitive nipples, my neck, my lips, and the occasional swipe of his tongue along my swollen sex. I am a feather’s touch away from orgasm or death … it could go either way at this point. The tangled sweaty mess of bed sheets has become typical of our love making that’s really a marathon or sexual torture, depending on the night.

He flips me so I’m on top of him, sweaty and dizzy with so much need I can barely sit up. Grabbing my hips he guides me until he’s lined up to my entrance, and then he brings me down onto him so hard we both cry out as I collapse onto his chest. Our mouths absorb our moans stirred by his last few deep strokes into me.

“S-so good…” I pant into his neck “…that was … so … good.”

“Agreed.” Trick chuckles with his hands still tangled in my hair. He rolls us to the side and grins. “Wife.”

I grin. “Husband.”

After long minutes of post-coital bliss, Trick rubs a few strands of my hair between his fingers with a glazed look in his eyes. “Why’d you say yes?”

I stare at my finger tracing the sanskrit on his abs. I’ve done it so many times every symbol has found its own etching in my mind. “Because you asked.”

He laughs. “But you didn’t have to say yes.”

“You’re wrong.”

“How’s that?” His muscles contract under my touch.

“Because anything else would have been a lie.” I glance up at him.

He nods. It’s subtle, but I see it. I’m attuned to a million little things about this man that I’m certain nobody else sees. Each little twitch, flinch, slow nod, or drawn out blink holds significance. These are the times I feel his thoughts. These undefined emotions mean so much.

“Why did you ask me to marry you?”

“I wanted you to know that I belong to you.” Leaning forward he kisses me.

The profoundness of his words steals my breath. He didn’t marry me to take anything; he did it to give me everything.

He yanks the knotted sheet loose and covers our naked bodies, pulling me closer until my nose finds home in its favorite spot at the crook of his neck.

“Goodnight, wife.”

“Goodnight, husband.”