“Tonight you do. For me.” I kiss the edge of his jaw then close my eyes once I’ve pulled a second coin from my clutch purse.
My mind drifts to our marriage and the intense things we’ve already been through only a couple of months into it.
Then I make a wish I never saw myself making the night I got engaged to Ronan Callahan.
I wish for many, many more to come.
The coin leaves my fingertips as I toss it into the water with aplink.
For all his griping, Ronan follows suit. He closes his eyes for a quick second and then hurls his coin into the water after mine.
“What did you wish for?” I ask.
“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” he points out with a crooked grin. “Ain’t that also part of the rules?”
I laugh, nodding my head and conceding his point.
We make our way to the theater, more excitement thrumming through the air. We’ll be seeingMoulin Rouge.
Ronan bought the tickets admittedly unsure if it was a show I’d want to see. Luckily, he guessed correctly since I’ve only ever seen the early 2000s film and enjoyed it.
Our seats are some of the best, close enough to see every detail of the ornate costumes and vivid sets but far enough to take in the full spectacle of the production.
The lights dim as the music starts, and I shiver in anticipation.
Ronan almost grins again as if amused, his hand coming to rest on my thigh. I lean into him slightly, letting my shoulder press against his arm, and lose myself in the story unfolding on stage.
It’s how we remain for most of the show.
It’s both romantic and tragic all at once. Even more so than the movie.
When it ends and the lights come back on, I have to blink away the moisture in my eyes. Ronan notices with a cock of his brow.
“You crying, princess?”
“It’s a sad ending,” I say defensively, dabbing at my eyes with the back of my hand. “They don’t end up together.”
He leans in close, his lips brushing my ear. “We’re not them. Our story is—and will be—different.”
The promise causes my heart to flutter, making me feel even closer to him than when the evening out began.
The ride back to Callahan House is charged with tension. Instead of the hostile and angry energy from the early parts of our marriage, it’s more anticipation and excitement. It’s the fact that we’re so completely attracted to each other we can’t behave for much longer.
By the time we pull into the driveway, we’re both feeling worked up, ready to tear off our clothes.
We barely make it through the bedroom door.
His mouth covers mine as it’s swinging shut behind us, the kiss hungry and demanding. Fingers sliding into my hair, his grip is deep enough to tilt my head back. He kisses me so intensely it’s clear he has no plans of letting go any time soon.
I can’t say I do either as I grab fistfuls of his dress shirt and mold myself to him. Our mouths fuse together as we taste each other and a rush of endorphins hit.
Ronan swipes at my bottom lip then delves his tongue deep, so aggressive and dominant it’s hard to keep up. He sends a tremor rocking its way down my spine.
But I give as good as I get. I tease him back, nipping at his lips to his low and throaty grunt of approval. His way to declare he wants more.
We stumble toward the bed less than well-coordinated in our haste, bumping into the dresser and accidentally causing a ceramic vase to titter precariously close to the edge. Only a split second later, my heel catches on the area rug and I pitch sideways, almost falling entirely if not for his fingers in my hair and hand on my hip.
We break apart long enough for breathless laughter that he quickly muffles against my mouth with another kiss.