Page 99 of Fake It For Love (Faux Love)
“Hey.” I looked at her and silently begged her for help.
“You look beautiful, Claire,” one of the ladies said. “We were just talking to Ryan about your wedding dress. That style is perfect for you. And lots of bling. You rock the bling.”
“Thank you,” Claire said.
“Why don’t I get you a drink?” I offered.
Thankfully, she picked up on my cries for help. “We’ll go together. Excuse us, ladies.”
She hooked her arm through mine and pulled me away from the group. “Thank you,” I breathed.
“You looked like you were caught robbing a bank.” She laughed.
“Man, they scare me,” I admitted. “I didn’t know what they were talking about. And then they were asking details about the wedding. It was way too much for me.”
“You did just fine,” she assured me. “I think they like torturing you.”
“It was effective,” I muttered. “That was really not okay.”
“They just want to be near you.”
“And I want to be near you,” I said. “Are you done with the pictures?”
“I am,” she said and grabbed a glass of champagne from the serving table.
I took one for myself. “How long until you have to be here for the reception activities?”
“The photographer asked for thirty minutes, which means forty-five, give or take a few,” she answered. “If I know Norah, she’s going to make sure it’s all perfect.”
“Good. Then I’ve got a little surprise for you.”
“What does that mean?” she teased.
“Come with me.”
I led her down a path away from the festivities. “Sorry about the sand,” I said.
“I don’t mind,” she said. “It’s nice down here. I’m quickly becoming addicted to the ocean.”
“It’s nice,” I said. “I have to say I agree.”
“What’s this?” she asked.
I pulled back the heavy curtain of the cabana. “This is for us for the next hour,” I said.
“Really?” she said.
I pulled the curtain closed behind us. I was confident we would be left alone. The cabana boy patrolling the area had promised me we would not be disturbed. I took her glass of champagne and put it on the small table along with mine.
“You teased me up there,” I said and slid behind her.
“I did,” she whispered.
I untied the laces in the back of the dress. “I told you I had lots of ideas about what I would love to do to your body. I plan on working out a few of those ideas right now. I promise I won’t muss your hair or makeup.”
“I don’t think I would be sad if you did,” she breathed.
The dress fell forward. “Step out of it,” I ordered.
