Page 109 of Ridin’ Dirty

No man had ever taken me on a weekend trip before, let alone a romantic mountain getaway meant to be our honeymoon.

Shit.

I remembered walking into the clubhouse and seeing Cherry wrapped around him at the poker table. I remembered sitting in my car, waiting for him to chase after me. I still felt how much it hurt when he didn’t.

But as I stared up at him, I remembered other things, too.

Like how he spent every night in our bed. And how he always got breakfast for two. And when he walked into any room certain I was there, the first thing he always did was look for me.

Shit, shit, shit.

He was so close, I barely had to lift up onto my tiptoes to press my lips against his. As soon as I made contact, his grip around my face tightened as he immediately parted my mouth open with his tongue.

I surrendered to his kiss, knowing it was inevitable and certain I didn’t want to waste another moment of our weekend arguing.

I was his.

Had been since the moment we locked eyes at the diner; before either of us knew each other’s name.

Now, he was my husband, and I was his angel.

Come hell or high water—both of which we’d known in such a short span of time—I continuously found myself here, in his arms.

And there was no place else I’d rather be.

Fuck, but I think I love him.

We barely made it through the front door before we started shedding clothing. I was naked from the waist down, Riley’s pants around his ankles, when he took me hard and fast against a wall in the entryway. By the time we were finished, a framed piece of art was hung askew.

Neither of us bothered to fix it on our way to the nearest bathroom, where we both cleaned ourselves up. After we were dressed, we explored the house. The view from every back facing window was incredible. Even better, the largest bedroom had a walkout balcony facing the mountain.

No sooner had we discovered the room than I was outside, admiring the landscape. Riley wasn’t far behind me. With an arm draped around my shoulders, he pulled me into his side and touched his lips to my temple where he mumbled, “Figured we’d head into town for dinner, then hit the grocery store. Buy enough grub to last us the rest of the weekend and lock ourselves in.”

“No early morning breakfast runs?” I asked, only half teasing.

I could hear the smile he wore as much as I felt it against the side of my face as he replied, “Been busy with other shit, haven’t had a lot of time, but I do know how to use a skillet. Toaster, too.”

Now wearing a smile myself, I murmured, “Sloth mode?”

“And fuckin’. Don’t forget the fuckin’.”

“Right,” I chuckled. “Honeymoon mode.”

“Damn straight. Someone’s finally catchin’ on.”

He kissed the side of my face before he shifted, moving to go back inside, but I grabbed hold of his kutte, keeping him close.

“Wait, not yet.”

He paused, an unspoken question in his gaze.

“Just a few more minutes? I’m enjoying the view.”

He stared down at me a second before adjusting his hold around me and turning his attention out across the horizon. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not—but it was partly true. The view really was spectacular. Though, it was mostly him I wanted.

Moments like this were my favorite part about us.

Fuck—but we were an us.