Only Trick (35 page)

W
ithin 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.

Me:
Dear BFF – I need you … I can’t tell my fiancé this, but it’s my wedding day and I want to look amazing for him. He doesn’t understand that for one day I want to feel as beautiful as he says I am. My hair is rebelling and my skin looks blotchy from the sun. Can you help me?

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

Trick:
Come.

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.