Love Unrehearsed

He looked over at Mike. “Is it me or is there something missing from this gorgeous picture?”

Mike inspected Marie from head to toe, even doing a walk-around. “Hmm. Yeah. Something’s off. Like it’s almost perfect but just not quite altogether—there.”

I had to laugh; both of them were examining us like pieces of art.

“Is it the hair?” Mike asked.

Ryan carefully touched one of the curls that touched my cheek. “No. I don’t think so,” he said reverently. “Your hair is perfect.”

I smiled. Marie and I had spent almost two hours at the hairdresser this morning getting dolled up.

Ryan was staring at my lips when he said, “What about the shoes, Mike?”

“Shoes?” Mike echoed. “Let me check.” He crouched down in front of Marie, lifting the hem of her dress to start his examination mid-thigh. I heard his lascivious groan from across the room. His fingers skated slowly down her thigh, pausing while he kissed her knee. I was watching him watching her. By the time he got down to her ankle, it had grown very warm in my living room. “Shoe’s good, Ryan.”

Yeah, their little game was working both of them into a lather.

I watched Ryan’s tongue slowly sweep across his bottom lip: wetting, inviting, taunting. Damn, I wanted to suck it into my mouth and end this teasing. He pulled me into his chest, drifting his nose near my neck. “God, you smell good.” He breathed into my ear. “Delicious.”

I felt his fingertips drift down my neck, following the square-cut neckline, causing my belly to flutter and tighten. He placed a small kiss at the bottom of my throat. “I’m thinking it’s the neck,” he whispered, grazing his teeth over my skin.

He rose up, slowly and deliberately. “Mike, check her neck.”

I gri

I felt him smile. “Promise me you won’t turn crazy when we get married.”

I clutched his waist, feeling the liquid heat building low in my panties. “I promise.” He was so close; I could feel his erection. I caressed my hand over it. “Are you happy now? You have all of this and no time to play with it.”

He moaned. “That’s a present for later. I’m going to do you slowly tonight.”

Just as I started drifting off into that blissful image, I heard Marie squeal. She held a flat box.

“I have one for you, too.” Ryan slipped a hand into the back of his trousers and pulled out a thin, flat box with the iconic HW logo embossed on the lid.

My breath caught when I removed the felt covering. “Oh my God, Ryan! This is absolutely beautiful.” I touched the diamond wreath necklace, noticing the small R in white gold, dangling next to the clasp.

Marie’s wreath necklace was just as stu

“Did we just get collared?” Marie teased, touching the diamond necklace.

Ryan smirked. “Something like that.”

“You’ve got a problem being owned?” Mike asked her.

“By you?”

Mike took Marie’s hips into his strong hands, drawing her in. “Yeah. By me. You good with that?”

Her smile was priceless. “Oh, yeah. I’m real good with that.”

I heard a horn honking.

“I believe our ride is here,” Ryan said.

Just as I had expected, my alley was inundated with a swarm of paparazzi, caging in our black stretch limo. Despite what people might think about the luxury of riding in a stretch limo, they were actually a pain to crawl around in—especially with heels and a dress.

“Damn,” Ryan breathed out. “I thought we’d thrown them off with that posted appearance at Chateau Marmont. So much for that.”

Mike was the last one in. “Yep, didn’t work. I figured as much. Plan B is still in place.”

I entwined my hand with Ryan’s. “Plan B?”

He nodded. “We hired event security. That will keep them out of the church and out of the reception.”

“Does Pete know this?”

Ryan kissed my hand. “I called him a couple of days ago. It’s all arranged. Just remember how this goes. We need to keep ours completely exclusive and private.”

“Maldives,” Mike murmured.

Ryan gave him a nod in agreement.

The outside of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church was surrounded by a small mob. My heart sank. Our worst fears were coming true. Ryan squeezed my hand.

Mike held the door open for us. Marie was the second person out, blocking the photographers’ prying cameras.

Ryan and I had made it a few feet toward the church steps when he paused and turned us around. As if we were at any other public appearance, Ryan and I posed for the press. We turned, smiled, and gave them what they all so desperately wanted. Except that Ryan did not give out any autographs.

He tried to speak over the frenzy. “We are here to celebrate the wedding of dear friends. I hope you give them the courtesy of your respect and privacy today. Thank you.”

Inside the church, I had a private moment with Pete, which caused a few tears of happiness to fall from my eyes. We’d been through hell and back, enduring the ugly side of life together.

Marie walked down the aisle first. I could see she only had eyes for Mike, who didn’t know Pete from Adam, but who had willingly stepped up to be a groomsman to make this day special for them.

I took a step through the threshold, imagining making this walk on my day.

I saw Ryan draw in a quick breath; his smile was breathtaking, standing tall and proud near the altar, watching every step I took with nothing but love in his eyes.

I wanted to marry him now more than anything.

Chapter 24

Face-off

In the five months following Pete and Tammy’s wedding, we’d been to California, Portugal, England, Louisiana, Pe

Ryan’s pla

Marie and I kept ourselves very busy, pla

I even found a new friend in Ryan’s lawyer, Len Bainbridge, when he helped me clear up the nearly $1

million estate that the sweet Jimmy Pop left behind. The Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles was very grateful when Ryan and I presented them with a check in Jimmy Pop’s memory.

That was a wonderful day.

Everything was going tremendously well at Mitchell’s Pub, too. Pete had hired several new staff members to support the growing demand for Tammy’s gourmet dishes that she was whipping up in the kitchen. Maggie, the elderly lady who owned the bakery opposite my pub—the one that Ryan had escaped through the first day that we met—was looking to retire and sell her store as well. Tammy had hired several people and was hoping to run the catering out of the bakery. So we were working on that plan.

Marie joked that I could run a multimillion-dollar corporation from my cell phone and laptop. I was starting to agree with her.

But now we were in Manhattan, getting ready to kick off the first day of press tours for the premiere of Ryan’s film Thousand Miles. We’d landed in New York yesterday and everything was going rather smoothly until we arrived for his press interviews and I spotted “them.” Suddenly my hands were sweaty, my senses were on high alert, it was hard to swallow, and I wished I was wielding a baseball bat—or better yet, Marie’s fancy black gun.