Really going to have to rough it until then," she said with a laugh. She pushed herself out of bed, which required some doing since it was roughly the size of a small country. She was trying not to think beyond the next few days lest she become completely overwhelmed.
On a typical Sunday morning she would grab a latte from Starbucks and head over to the VH to oversee brunch and catch up on what she didn't get finished from the past week.
This morning was that morning's polar opposite.
She pulled on a pair of comfy cotton pants. She'd slept in her panties and a silky cami she'd found in her luggage—an entire new wardrobe she hadn't chosen, yet fit her style so precisely, it gave her pause. Penelope's doing? The wedding planner's? Or had it been Reese himself? The idea of him choosing her comfortable yet sensual wardrobe was enticing…
Shoving aside the distracting thought, she pulled a long-sleeved shirt perfect for the chilly morning over her cami and finger-combed her hair. Obeying Penelope's orders about makeup, she splashed water on her face and dusted on a little powder. Just as she did, another light rap came at the door.
Reese was on the other side in sweatpants and a sweatshirt—both gray—his hair slightly rumpled, his face in need of a trim, and looking more devastating than she thought possible. "Ready?"
"Um…" Words. She couldn't call up enough to string into a sentence, so she went with a slightly coherent reply. "Yeah. Yes."
With a nod, he reached past her and snagged the fluffy comforter from the bed, rolling it into a big ball. Then he took her hand—cold—in his—insanely warm—and said, "Let's go see that sunrise."
Emerging from the softly lit cabin of the boat to the dark, frigid wind on the deck made her suck air through her teeth. She considered dashing back to bed—after she snatched that heavenly blanket from Reese's arms—but seeing as this was their first appearance as a married couple, fleeing his presence the morning after wouldn't be well received. Still, she couldn't help voicing a complaint.
"Oh my God! It's freezing out here," she said, her teeth chattering.
"Worth it, I promise." Wind kicked his hair. He looked almost rugged with the overgrown stubble and those casual clothes. Like him, but a homier him. She'd never really thought of Reese Crane as "homey."
"When was the last time you took in a sunrise on a yacht?" he asked, shaking out the blanket.
"Never. You?"
"The morning after I proposed to you." His mouth quirked and she had no idea if he was joking or not.
"Really?
Really. Took the boat out and sat on the water until morning." He spread the blanket over a bench facing the water and sat.
"Were you having second thoughts?" She'd had about a million.
"Come get warm," he said instead of answering her. He held the blanket out like a cape and obeying his request, she sat next to him. He rerouted her, lifting her onto his lap, then closed the blanket over her. She snuggled into his heat, moving until she was comfortable.
He grunted when she bumped his—ahem—man part a little too aggressively.
"Sorry." This time, her wiggle was met with his palms closing over her waist. He turned her to the side where her hip met several inches of steel.
"Hold still," he said, his voice just as hard. "Before you kill me."
She bit back a smile. Not because him being turned on was funny, but because she couldn't remember the last time she'd had that effect on a man.
"Laugh it up," he encouraged, one hand moving up her leg.
"It's not you. I just…this is…weird."
"It's a human reaction," he said simply.
She gazed at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Was this how he categorized the one-night-only dates he was so well known for? As "human reactions"? She almost asked but he interrupted her thoughts.
"We're supposed to look in love," he said drily. "Consider this my effort to help that along."
She let herself giggle, startled at how easy it was to sit on Reese Crane's lap and laugh. It was as if she'd fallen into an episode of the Twilight Zone.
"That's better," he said, his hand coming to rest on her thigh.
She'd brushed her teeth before she came out and was pleased to pick up the hint of mint on his breath as well. They were being so careful. So very careful. And now they were being tasked with indulging. Something Reese was skilled at, but she hadn't given in to much in her life.
So, go for it.
"Thick hair." She pushed her fingers through the strands the way she'd wanted to since he'd appeared outside her bedroom door. Wavy, dark brown, but in the coming daylight, she could see the flecks of gold. "No gray yet," she observed. "Surprising since your father has a head full."
Unwavering navy eyes stayed on her. So this was what it was like to have his full attention. Since he hadn't stopped her, she gave in to another whim and ran her fingers down his jaw and over scruff that was soft to the touch. Against her breast, she felt his heart pound.
She dipped her fingers into the collar of his sweatshirt, holding his gaze. His nostrils flared and his jaw tightened. The steel beneath the blanket bobbed against her hip.
"Chest hair," she whispered, exploring carefully. "I like that."
"Do you." He tightened his arms around her.
It wasn't a question, but she nodded anyway. The sun peeked over the water, casting golden light over his face, but neither of them looked away from each other to take in the morning making its grand entrance. Reese's hand came out from under the blanket and cupped her neck, pulling her mouth close to his.
"So fucking soft," he whispered against his lips. "I've never felt skin so smooth."
"Not ever?" Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. They were so close she could almost taste him.
"Never."
She gave in, erasing the scant space between them, telling herself kissing him was for the benefit of the camera. On contact, Reese crushed her against him, and that's when she knew.
They weren't pretending. This kiss was real.
Merina speared one hand up through the back of his hair, her arms still linked around his neck. She needed him as close as possible. His tongue delved into her mouth and she accepted, kissing him as passionately. They made out for long minutes, so long that by the time they separated, she was out of breath. Sunlight had washed over the deck, heating the boat, though they'd done a pretty decent job of heating it themselves.