Hannah slept all night, and she woke up feeling warm and cozy and good.

Really good.

She wasn’t really sure why she felt so good, but she was conscious of something firm and big pressed against her, and something about it she really liked.

Her eyes still closed, she sighed in pleasure and reached out to feel it more, discovering it was a body.

A man’s body. She was lying almost on top of it, and as she ran her hands down, she realized that he was erect. Her hands wrapped around the hard shaft through the soft fabric of his underwear. She wasn’t really squeezing. Just feeling.

She rubbed herself against the length of his body, finally realizing that it was Bruce.

Bruce.

No wonder she liked the feel of him so much.

He was making surprising sounds in his throat—soft, little grunts—so she opened her eyes at last to see what he was doing.

He’d obviously been asleep like she was, but he was starting to wake up now. His eyelids were very heavy, his skin was flushed, and his mouth was relaxed. He was groaning shamelessly now as she fondled him.

A flicker of realization hit her about what she was doing, and she pulled her hands away, but he reached out to take her hands and moved them back to his erection. So she let herself stroke him the way she wanted to, delighted by his responsiveness, how much he appeared to like it.

When she started to squeeze gently, he gave a loud huff and rolled over suddenly, pressing himself down on top of her and rocking his groin against her belly. He mouthed her clumsily until he was able to focus enough to kiss her for real.

She kissed him back, conscious of nothing but how much she loved the feel of him, the sight of him, the touch of him, everything about him.

Bruce.

Exactly as she wanted to be with him.

They kissed urgently, eagerly, rocking their bodies together. And pretty soon his hands were tugging at her pajamas, trying to pull them off.

She helped as much as she could, wanting to feel his bare skin against hers. They had to stop kissing so she could sit up and pull her top off, and Bruce stared at her for a long time, naked appreciation on his face.

He wasn’t anything like he’d been on Friday night—when he’d been fully in control of himself, careful and gentle. Right now he was eager and almost young—no hint of composure or his normal intentionality.

She loved him like this, as much as she loved him in every other way.

She just loved him.

The thought hit her as his hands moved up to cup her breasts. “Jesus, baby. You’re everything,” he murmured.

She almost melted. Then the pleasure from his touch hit her and she arched her spine, pressing herself into his palms. She let him caress her for a minute, but she was too turned on and full of feeling to hold back for very long. Still sitting up, she reached down to the waistband of his boxer briefs and shamelessly pulled them down.

As he was tugging them off over his feet, he grunted, “Condom.”

She wasn’t sure she would have remembered until it was too late, so she was grateful as she leaned over to the nightstand where the second condom Bruce had gotten from his suitcase was still lying on the nightstand top.

She tore it open and was thinking about rolling it on over his erection when he took it from her hands. “Can’t wait that long,” he mumbled.

She gave a little huff of laughter as he pulled her over on top of him, helping her straddle his hips with her legs.

She was too swept away in feeling to even feel awkward about the new position. He helped her settle herself above him and then guided himself inside her. It felt very full, very tight, but it was much more comfortable than it had been before. She moaned in pleasure, in an overflow of emotion.

She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to ride him or what, but he pulled her upper body down so he could kiss her. She bent at the waist so he wouldn’t slip out of her, and she started to roll her hips as they kissed.

She was feeling so much she couldn’t focus on the kiss. She moved over him urgently, trying to chase the sensations that were already developing inside her. He was holding on to her bottom with both hands, holding her in place so he could buck up into her. There was nothing rhythmic or graceful about their movement. It was raw, primitive, eager on both sides.

Even the sound of wet suction as he moved inside her turned her on, made it feel even more real.

She was holding on to his head with both hands, trying to kiss him still. But she was getting some good friction on her clit, and soon she couldn’t sustain the kiss any longer. She broke her mouth away, moaning helplessly as she shook her body over his.

“Baby,” he rasped, his mouth about an inch away from hers. “Baby, I’m gonna lose it soon.”

She moved over him even faster, harder, gasping, “Me too, me too, me too.”

In less than a minute, the pressure was breaking inside her, releasing in deep waves of sensation. She made little sobbing sounds as she rode out the spasms, and she could feel him jerking beneath her, pushing up into her almost roughly.

“Yes, baby, yes,” he hissed. “Love this. Love...”

He swallowed over the last word, and her mind was too dazed with pleasure to register it anyway.

She collapsed on top of him when the feelings started to disperse, but she kept moaning as she lay on top of him.

She couldn’t seem to stop.

His hands finally released her bottom. One of them moved up to rest on the small of her back and the other stroked her hair, which was still in a messy braid from the evening before.

She felt so good—all over, all the way down to her heart—that she couldn’t move for a long time.

When he finally started shifting beneath her, she groaned in reluctance.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said hoarsely. “The condom.”

Of course they needed to take care of it even if it meant she had to move. She made herself pull off his softening shaft and then unstraddle his hips.

He made a groan—very similar to hers—as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He sat there for a minute, breathing deeply, the condom in his hand, before he got up to throw it out.

She waited in the bed until he came out.

She could tell from his face that he’d fully woken up at last.

He looked sober.

Very sober.

Frighteningly sober.

He stood next to the bed and looked down at her.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice cracking from the sudden stab of fear in her chest. She sat up, pulling on her pajama top since she suddenly didn’t want to be totally naked. “Maybe we should talk.”

She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to just fall into his arms and never have him let her go.

But that wasn’t how it worked in real life.

For one, she had to put on her underwear since obviously they couldn’t have this conversation with her bottom half unclothed.

“I...” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know, Hannah.” He reached for his underwear and pulled them on too.

That didn’t sound good.

That sounded... terrible.

“Why not? I think we need to talk.”

“We can. We will. But not... not right now.”

She rubbed her face, trying to make her mind work better. She felt like she was going to cry again, and she’d been so happy just a few minutes earlier. “Why not?”

He made a rough sound in his throat and turned his head away from her with an awkward jerk. He gritted out, “I’m sorry, baby. But I can’t... I can’t control myself with you. Not when you’re in bed like this. Not when you look that way.”

Genuinely surprised, she looked down at herself. She was just wearing her little blue panties and a pink tank top that matched the pajama pants still strewn at the bottom of the bed. Her hair was a mess.

She didn’t look sexy at all.

“We just had sex,” she said at last.

“You think I don’t know that. It doesn’t matter to me. I’ll want you again. I do want you again. I can’t... I can’t control myself with you.”

That wasn’t at all what she’d expected to hear, but she really liked the sound of it. It sent a wave of relief and pleasure all through her heart, all through her body.

She didn’t know what to do with the pleasure though. She didn’t know what was happening here. “I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t. I’m sorry. We can talk. I promise. But it can’t be right now. I want to be your friend, but I... I can’t. I can’t right now.”

“You can’t be my friend?” Her voice cracked again.

He still wasn’t looking at her. He kept his head held stiffly away. “Yes, I can be. I promise. I’m going to be your friend like I always was. I just need to... get myself together.”

“But... but I thought you wanted to just be friends.”

He let out a raspy breath, like he was fighting some sort of frustration. “I do want to be friends. I’m not going to let anything come between us. Not even... this.”

“This?”

“How much I want you.”

She was flushing again, feeling like she was on some sort of carnival ride that bounced her up and down. “But... I don’t... You didn’t want me before.”

“I’ve always wanted you. From the moment I met you. But you wanted to be friends, and that friendship has meant more to me than... I’ve never cared about anyone the way I do about you. I didn’t even know I was capable of... I kept trying to distract myself with other women, but they could never be who I really wanted. And lately I haven’t even been able to be with other women. I just want you so... We’ll be fine. I promise we will. Can I...” He took another ragged breath, and for the first time she noticed his hands were fisted at his sides. “Can I go take a shower now? I’ll get myself together, and then we can talk.”

“Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. She was still trying to catch up with everything.

He didn’t wait for her to say anything else. He just walked to the bathroom in five long strides, grabbing some clothes on the way.

She sat on the bed, trying to figure out what was happening here.

She’d been so sure, when he told her yesterday that sex would be better with someone she loved, he was telling her that he could never love her.

But it didn’t really sound like that was what he’d been saying.

Maybe he’d been saying that he didn’t think she could ever love him.

He’d said he’d wanted her from the moment he’d seen her. He’d said she meant more to him than anyone else ever had.

And he obviously still wanted her—even now, even after just having sex.

He wanted her so much he’d barely been able to hold himself back. He hadn’t even let himself look at her.

She reviewed all that as she waited, in the several minutes before she heard the water in the shower turn off.

A few minutes later, Bruce came out, wearing jeans and a long-sleeved knit shirt—a blue that almost matched his eyes.

He stood in the middle of the floor and looked at her. “Are you okay?”

She wasn’t really okay. She was filled with more than she could possible contain in her heart.

She scrambled out of the bed. “You love me!” she burst out.

He jerked slightly. “I... I never said that.”

“I know you didn’t say it. But you do.” She’d clasped her hands together in a gesture of absolute joy. “I’m not romanticizing this time. I figured it out for real. You do. You love me.”

He lifted a hand and covered his mouth with it, taking a few loud breaths. “I... won’t let it mess things up between us,” he finally said.

“You idiot!” She ran toward him and flung herself at him. Fortunately, he’d reached out to catch her as she did, or they both would have ended up on the floor. “I love you too.”

“What?” His reaction was dramatic. He took a step back and took her head in both his hands, holding it so he could look down into her face. “What did you say?”

She beamed up at him. “I said I love you too. It’s not a fairy tale or a sappy movie. It’s real. I love you too.”

“You...”

“Love you too.”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

She gave a little giggle at his stupefied look. “Why is it so surprising?”

“I... I don’t know. I’m just used to living life, knowing I’ll never have you.” He was still searching her face with those urgent blue eyes. “You mean it?”

“Yes, I mean it.” She grabbed his shirt in both hands. “Bruce, you’ve always been close to my favorite person in the world. I know you. I trust you. We’re... we’re really good together. I love hanging out with you. You’re my best friend other than Madison and Charlie. The only thing I didn’t know was that we would be so good in bed together. But... obviously that’s not an issue for us. I’d be pretty stupid not to be in love with you. I just didn’t know you thought about me that way.”

He let out a breath, and she could see his expression, his shoulders, relax. “I do. I always have.”

“And all those other women?”

“I was trying... trying to be who I’ve always been, but I haven’t been able to be that man lately. I don’t want anyone but you. I don’t think I ever will again.”

“So you love me?”

She could see in his eyes that he believed her now. There was a blaze of joy there the likes of which she’d never seen before. “I do. Baby, I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

He groaned in what sounded like relief as he leaned down to kiss her hard.

The kiss got deeper than they expected, and they ended up sprawled on the bed.

When the kiss became more than a kiss, Hannah didn’t mind at all.

They didn’t have to check out of the hotel for a few more hours.

There was no reason to hurry.

The wedding might be over, but as far as she was concerned, they had the rest of their lives.

***

FOUR MONTHS LATER, Hannah was waking up in the same hotel, only this time she was in a big bed in a much bigger room.

Bruce had arranged for them to come back here with her parents for their thirtieth wedding anniversary. She’d been worried about him spending so much money, and she’d helped out as much as she could, but he’d insisted on covering most of it, and he couldn’t have given her a sweeter present.

They’d all had a wonderful time hiking in the mountains, soaking in the mineral pools, indulging in the spa, eating and drinking and laughing a lot. Last night, she and Bruce had had a lovely, private dinner and then walked around in the moonlight, and she’d slept in this morning. They’d be leaving later. Today was their last morning here.

When she’d first opened her eyes, she’d heard the shower running, so she’d relaxed and dozed for a little while longer.

Eventually, the shower turned off, and she heard Bruce going through his normal morning routine of getting dressed. Then there was a light knock on the door, and Bruce went to answer it.

Maybe he’d ordered room service for breakfast.

She’d love that.

She heard him thank whomever was at the door, and then the door clicked closed. For no good reason, she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep as he came into the bedroom.

It sounded like he was rolling something—probably a room service cart. When the rolling stopped, nothing happened. He seemed to just be standing there.

Then she could hear him walking, coming closer to the bed.

She could smell his soap and toothpaste. Then she felt him kiss her very lightly on the lips.

She smiled against his mouth.

“You’re awake!” he said, slightly aggrieved.

She giggled and opened her eyes. “Just enjoying staying in bed late.”

He gave her an exaggerated frown.

Still laughing, she reached up for him and pulled him into the bed with her. “All this talk about being anti-romantic, and then you go and kiss me while I’m sleeping.”

He was chuckling now too, rolling her over so he was propped up above her. “I knew you were awake.”

“No, you didn’t.” She cupped his cheek with one of her hands. “No sense in trying to hide it from me. I know you’re secretly romantic. Look what you did for my parents this weekend. They’re never going to forget it.”

His blue eyes were warm and soft. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

“I’m never going to forget it either,” she murmured, her voice a little hoarse from rising emotion.

“I’m glad you had a good time too.”

She pulled him down into a hug, loving him so much she could hardly contain it.

She’d always assumed that falling in love at last would completely transform her life, but Bruce had been right about a lot of things, and one of them was that you were always still yourself. She was still her, and he was still him. They were just together now.

And it made her happy.

When he pulled away, she said, “But the weekend isn’t quite over yet. You got room service, didn’t you?”

“Yep.” He was smiling as he straightened up, but there was also something else on his face. Something she couldn’t immediately identify.

She was trying to figure it out as she watched him go over to the cart, pick up the breakfast tray, and carry it over to the bed.

She propped herself up on the pillows and clasped her hands together at how lovely the presentation was—a silver-covered plate, lovely glasses of mimosa and water, a red rose in a crystal vase.

She really had absolutely no idea when she lifted the silver cover off the plate.

Instead of a plate of food was a diamond ring in an opened velvet box.

She stared down at it, speechless.

An engraved platinum ring. A princess-cut diamond.

An engagement ring.

She stared at the ring. Then stared up at Bruce.

An almost sheepish expression on his face, he reached over to pick up the ring. Then he got down on one knee beside the bed and extended the ring to her.

“I love you, Hannah. With you I feel like I’ve finally made it through the wall of thorns. I never thought I’d get here, and I never want to go back. So will you marry me and be my princess forever?”

Hannah stared. And kept staring. And finally burst into tears, scrambling to get the tray off her lap without spilling it all and then getting off the bed so she could throw herself in Bruce’s arms. “Yes!” she sobbed. “Yes, yes, yes.”

They both tumbled onto the floor. Bruce was laughing as he pulled her into an embrace, right there on the floor, and Hannah was still mumbling, “Yes,” over and over again.

Eventually they got off the floor and back onto the bed.

And it was a while later before they actually ate breakfast, which was on the other tray on the cart.

They finally got out of bed just in time to check out of their room.

And Hannah got to tell her mother that she’d found her happy ending here too.

***

IF YOU ENJOYED THIS story, be sure to check out the final book in the One Fairy Tale Wedding series, Unveiled, about Madison and Timothy. You can find an excerpt from it on the following pages.

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