Torn

Chapter 30

I Belong to You

River

October 31st

The white light creeps in through the window. We left the curtains open last night so we could stare out into the night, admiring the view, and feeling absolutely content—content knowing we will always be there for each other. I know today is the hardest day of the year for her and I want to do everything I can to guarantee she has a smile on her face.

I’ve been watching her sleep, waiting for her to wake up. I’m lying on my back and she’s draped across my chest with her cheek pressed against me and her golden strands pulled back just enough so I can see her beautiful face. With her next to me naked in bed, I can’t stop myself from sliding my hands over her smooth skin.

She opens her eyes only the tiniest fraction and kisses my chest. She skims her fingertips down my stomach, stopping to trace lines over each muscle, stoking the heat between us that never dies.

“Good morning,” I tell her, kissing her head and smelling the sweet scent of her hair.

“Morning.” She nips my skin and sends me over the edge.

Rolling her over, I hover above her and bury my elbows into the pillow. My mouth trails down her neck and she giggles, “You’re tickling me.”

“Giggling and tickling aren’t what I’m going for,” I murmur back as I continue to lick and nip her skin.

She pulls my head to hers and when our lips meet I want to devour her, but when I brush my tongue against hers, she laughs. Ignoring the sound, I suck on her bottom lip because I know how much she likes it. When I do, she smirks and stifles any noise that would accompany it. I plop down beside her and rest my head on my elbow. Lifting her chin to look into her eyes I ask, “What are you doing?”

She flutters her eyes. “Why, whatever do you mean?” she answers in her cute fake Southern accent.

Grinning, I say, “I’m trying to make love to you but you seem to be finding it funny.”

She pouts her lips and drops her eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, grabbing her hand and lacing my fingers in hers, not sure what I did.

She smiles and I swear I feel my heart stop from her beauty. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just waiting to see how long it takes you.”

“Well, if you’d let me get started, you’d be able to see.” Then raising an eyebrow I ask, “Wait, what exactly are you waiting to see how long it takes for?”

Now she’s laughing hysterically and I start to question my manhood. When she settles down she gives me an impish grin. “To say happy anniversary, silly. Not what you’re thinking!”

A bright smile spreads across my face. “I guess it’s an anniversary of sorts—six years ago today, you stared at me across a bar and look where I am now,” I say, trailing my fingers down her bare arm.

She tells me, “Well, I think it went more like this . . . six years ago today you stalked me and look where I am now—in the arms of Jack the Ripper.”

Grinning, I remember that first night we met at the USC Campus Bar and the conversation we had. Then I decide if I’m ever going to concede this is the time. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”

She keeps my hands laced in hers and moves closer to me. She kisses me and then says, “I love you—I thought I loved you from the first moment I saw you in the bar. And I knew I loved you five years later when I saw you in that conference room. But it wasn’t until you said that you weren’t just kissing me—you were whispering in my mouth—that I fell madly in love with you.”

“Did I say that? I’m pretty smooth.”

She nods and smirks. Fixing her gaze on me, she seems very serious all of a sudden. She holds my eyes captive. Clearing her throat she says, “You know today has always been the saddest day of the year for me and I was wondering if you would do something to help me change that?”

There’s a lead in that that I would normally pounce on, but I know she’s being serious, so of course I don’t. Instead, I kiss her hands. “You know I’d do anything for you, Dahlia. You don’t even have to ask. Just tell me and it’s done.”

She looks at me for the longest time before speaking. “Will you marry me today? Make this my happiest day of the year instead of my saddest day of the year?”

Like she really has to ask. I can’t even answer her right away because I’m so full of emotion I have to compose myself before saying, “Dahlia, I would have married you at the campus bar that night if you would have asked. You’re the only one I have ever really loved; the only one I will ever love. You, beautiful girl, are every breath I take. So of course I’ll marry you today.”

In all honesty there is nothing more I want to do. I’m not the kind of guy to cry but I swear I feel tears in my eyes when I look at the glow on her face. All I wanted to do was make her happy today and all she needs to be happy is for me to marry her—of course I can do that.

She closes her eyes for a moment and when she reopens them she says, “So Vegas it is.”

My heart thuds in my chest as I fall to my back and pull her on top of me. “No, I’m done with Vegas. We’re getting married nearby and I am taking care of it all.”

With her palms flat on my chest, she lifts herself up. She’s biting her lip and has a contemplative look on her face.

“What?”

She raises an eyebrow and a small giggle of disbelief escapes her mouth. “You’re going to take care of everything?”

I prop myself up on my elbows and meet her gaze. “That’s what I said.”

“Okay, then.” She grins at me and it’s decided—today is finally the day and it’s mine to plan.

Rolling on top of her so our bodies are perfectly aligned, I lean down to taste her skin. When she rocks her hips into mine I let out a low groan. She feels so good and my urge to be inside her becomes a frenzied need. I lock my lips around her earlobe and whisper, “You can see how long it takes me now, if you want.”

She combs her hands in my hair and tugs at my scalp in that way that drives me crazy. When she runs her nose up my neck so I can feel her warm breath against my skin, her lips find mine and she murmurs, “Yes, I want.”

It’s a little while later and I head downstairs to plan the day—our wedding day. I promise myself that this time we will be married by the end of the day. The wedding may not be traditional in every sense of the word, but I want to make sure we hit the most important parts—the ceremony and of course an unbelievable wedding night. With that in mind, I quickly call my sister and tell her about the wedding. She says she’ll be right over but I know if I want something done a certain way I have to stress it over and over, so I repeat myself, “Bell, remember these two words—sunset and simple.” But I know she’s not even listening as she hangs up the phone.

I’m surprised when she gets here and has already secured the location. And all of her ideas are perfect—except one. As she leaves, I beg her to skip the monkey suit, but she only rolls her eyes and says, “Be at Grandpa’s store at noon. Xander will meet you there.”

As she’s leaving, she yells over her shoulder, “Don’t forget to tell Dahlia to meet me at Avery’s at one!” I actually haven’t been to Grandpa’s store since his death. About a year before he died, he had asked all three of us if we were interested in taking over the store, but we were young and that responsibility seemed too daunting so we all declined. Now someone else owns it.

Feeling good about Bell’s involvement I decide to search for my girl to reassure her that it’s all under control. She doesn’t have to worry about a thing. When I find her ending a call with Aerie, I tell her only a handful of minor wedding details. I want the location to be a surprise. When she looks at me skeptically, I feign offense and then promptly send her off to do whatever it is a woman has to do before getting married. I also have things to do myself. First on my list—write my vows; second—select the most perfect song to dance to; and finally—come up with a plan to make tonight unlike any other night.

My monkey suit shoes are in the closet and as I look at the laces I know I will be switching them out for my Adidas. Bell’s going to kill me, but those shiny shoes are just not for me. Dahlia’s still out and I’m making sure I have everything ready. I jump in the shower and start singing “You Make Loving Fun” because for some reason thinking about last night makes me think about that song. Everything about her amazes me and the simple fact that we can go out and have a great time together no matter what we do, just makes me appreciate her even more.

As I’m shaving, I’m humming and singing along. When I look up I see her in the mirror. She’s leaning up against the doorframe with the biggest smile on her face. Seeing her carefree and happy like that makes it hard for me to see straight. Twisting around to catch an even better glimpse, she’s already walking my way. I meet her in the middle because I can’t wait to get my arms around her and feel her body against mine. She slings her arms over my shoulders and I lace mine around her waist. When she runs her fingers through my wet hair, I groan and cup her backside. She rests her head in the crook of my neck and I pull her into me as close as I can and fight back the urge to devour her.

Even our bodies fit together. It’s perfection. We’re two people meant to be together.

As she nips at the skin on my neck, my resolve to wait to have her is beginning to wane. I had decided earlier that we should not have sex again before tonight. I’ve booked a room at the Beverly Wilshire and Bell is going to make sure it’s filled with everything to make the night special—flowers, champagne, my guitar, and “a few other things,” she said. I rolled my eyes at the “a few other things” comment, but thanked her anyway.

Her soft lips touch my shoulder and I breathe her in. She slides her fingers down my bare chest to my towel and I squeeze her tight to me. She tugs at the knot and unfastens it, letting it fall to the ground. When she purrs, “You didn’t wait for me to take a shower,” a raw heat starts to consume me.

I lean back and try to control the fire raging through my body. “That’s because I knew I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself if I did that.”

She walks me backward until I’m leaning against the counter. When she reaches down her fingers quickly wrap around me and it feels so good. Of course, I was already hard before she even touched me; I was hard the minute I saw her.

“Why would you have to restrain yourself?” she asks while stroking me.

Fighting the urge to rip her clothes off I manage to say through gritted teeth, “Because I thought we should wait until after we’re married to have sex.”

A deep throaty laugh escapes her lips as her thumb lightly circles my tip and I feel myself swell even more inside her hand. At this point there’s no going back.

“Okay, that’s sweet and I like traditions, but that tradition only applies if the two people have never had sex.”

I grip the counter with one hand and her with the other. She continues to stroke me and I throw my head back. “It’s not tradition,” I manage to say. “It’s one of my rules.”

She laughs again. “Okay, I don’t get it, but since I always love your rules, I’ll be happy to follow your lead.” Then she twists her palm over the head of my cock in the way she knows I like. “So I can’t do this?”

My voice comes out low and strained as I answer, “No, I mean yes—you can do that.”

When she drops to her knees and wraps her mouth around me, she sucks so hard, I can no longer control myself. I close my eyes and just let go. Before I know it, I’m thrusting my hips, clutching her hair with my hands, deciding technically this isn’t sex.

For all the complaining I’ve done about my sister’s party planning in the past, I take it all back today. She really outdid herself. She managed to secure the ideal location compliments of pulling the “my grandfather was a major benefactor” card, she arranged limo transportation compliments of an old boyfriend, and she even had Garrett become ordained so that he could marry us.

Glancing out the window, I see dark clouds are rolling in and I’m hoping it doesn’t rain. Dahlia and I are riding together, but I want the location to be a surprise so I have her blindfolded. Getting it on took a little bit of coercing. Of course, she had some smart-ass comments to make about not knowing how kinky I was and then asking what I planned on doing to her once I got the blindfold on—I had all kinds of ideas of what I could do to her, but it was neither the time nor the place.

Although she made fun of me for traditions, she wanted to keep one herself—she didn’t want me to see her in her wedding dress until the actual ceremony. So she’s wearing the dress Aerie got her the day we were originally going to elope to Vegas. She’ll change at the location of the ceremony. And even though I know this isn’t her wedding dress, I can’t take my eyes off her. She looks so beautiful. But in truth, as gorgeous as she looks right now, I just know that when I see her walking down the aisle, this moment won’t compare.

Glancing at her, I notice something on her leg. I run my hand up between her legs, and, even blindfolded, she’s a fast catch. She has my hand in hers in a flash. “No, no. You don’t get to see that until after we’re married.”

“Dahlia, I can see it now. I’m not the one with a blindfold on, remember?”

“Oh, I remember. You might be able to see, but no touching.”

I creep my fingers back up her leg and she slaps my hand. “No, not now. Remember your rules. I don’t want to tempt you into something, so no touching, got it?”

“I got it, beautiful,” I say and lean over to kiss her, beyond happy that she’s mine. Her lips, her legs, her body, her humor, her everything—she’s all mine. “Whatever you say.”

Everyone else went ahead of us, but I had a stop I wanted to make first. When the limo comes to a halt, I take her hand and help her out of the car. As I guide her up and we step onto the wooden platform, I already feel the magic of this location. I completely understand why as a child, she’d have asked her parents for this as a present. I was uncertain if I should bring her here or not. I didn’t want to make her sad by bringing back memories of her parents, but I wanted them to be a part of our special day.

I brace her hands on one of the poles and signal to the operator. When it starts to move, I remove her blindfold. I’m standing right in front of her, but her face is unreadable.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She lifts her head, staring into my eyes. “I’m more than okay.”

And I know it’s true. Her eyes dart around, taking in her surroundings, and I get to see this magical fantasy world come to life through her eyes. As the organ music begins and the merry-go-round turns, the prancing wooden horses move up and down and even I feel like they are inviting us to join them.

“May I?” I ask softly as my hands grip her waist and lift her to sit sideways on the colorful moving horse.

She traces her fingertips over my cheek and then motions for me to join her. I quickly hop on behind her and reach around her to hold onto her hands on the pole. The mirror plates reflect both of our smiling faces and allow me a glimpse of the twelve-year-old girl who requested this birthday present. We ride in a circle over and over, and occasionally I kiss her neck or press my cheek to hers and every once in a while she leans back into me or rests her head on my shoulder.

As the ride ends, the horses and music stop. But I know the enchantment in our life together never will.

I hop off and see that her eyes are squeezed closed. When she opens them, her smile brightens. She mouths, “Thank you.” Then she wraps her arms around my neck and leans into me, softly and tenderly kissing me.

I want to give her a present before we go. Leaning back, I open my jacket and reach inside for the black velvet pouch. “Give me your wrist.” When she does I take out the stack of gold and silver bracelets and pull them over her hand to her wrist. She looks at me questioningly. “These were the bracelets Janis Joplin wore at Woodstock. My grandfather was her drummer and she overhead a conversation he was having with someone that his wife was so mad at him because it was their anniversary and he wasn’t home. That night Janis sent my grandfather a letter with this pouch telling him these bracelets were made of love from all around the world and she was sure if he gifted my grandmother with them she’d forgive him.

Dahlia looks at me intently. “Did she?”

I laugh. “Of course she did.”

She looks at the bangles for a long while and throws her arms around me, the metal jingling. “God, I love you. Thank you so much. They’re beautiful.”

I hold her. “No, you’re beautiful. Are you ready to finally do this?”

“I’m ready to finally do this!” she says as she reaches in my front pocket and snatches the blindfold I stashed there.

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself. It’s my turn later,” she says with a wink.

I laugh as I take her in my arms and kiss her. Then, hand in hand, we walk back to the limo.

As we pull up to the Griffith Park Observatory, I know Bell made the right choice. Dahlia clasps her hand over her mouth and turns to me to say, “It’s perfect.”

Xander’s new Porsche is parked right in front. I asked him if I could borrow it to drive off in at the end of the night. I just wanted to see if he’d let me take it because since I learned to drive he had a thing about me taking his car. Needless to say I was surprised he said yes—guess he’s more of a romantic than I thought.

Aerie and Serena come rushing over and take my girl from me. As she turns and blows me a kiss, her pearls swing from side to side and I can’t believe we’re actually doing this, it’s actually going to happen. Dahlia is finally going to be my wife—Mr. and Mrs. River Wilde. I like the sound of that. I feel like we’ve waited a long time for this day and I want it to be absolutely perfect, just like my girl.

Breaking my trance, Xander’s in my face, shoving me forward, “Bell’s on me because you’re late, Loverboy. So get your ass in gear and stop gawking like a schoolboy.”

I just shake my head, glad things are back to normal. Upstairs, I’m floored by what Bell has done to the place. The observation deck, which I have been on a million times, has been transformed into the most beautiful place on earth. White twinkling lights stream from the open window arches, wildflowers cover almost every inch of the room, the makeshift white carpet ends at the center arch with a perfect view of the Hollywood sign, and everyone we care about is here—my mom, Jack, Serena, Aerie, Garrett, Nix, Xander, Bell, and even Zane.

Garrett moves to stand at the end of the carpet and I have to chuckle because he’s trying to be so professional. Looking at his watch, he clears his throat and opens his book. My chuckle turns into a laugh when I see the title of the book he’s holding is War and Peace. But really I’m touched that he has put so much effort into things.

Just as the sun begins to meet the horizon, and the Hollywood sign lights up the sky, Zane starts to play Wagner’s “Here Comes the Bride” on the keyboard that Bell set up on the back of the deck with the other band instruments. The Wilde Ones will be playing tonight after the ceremony.

Xander taps me on the shoulder and motions for me to stand near Garrett. As I do, everyone takes a seat. When the song stops, Dahlia comes around the corner and Aerie swiftly joins the others. Dahlia has never looked more beautiful. Her dress is long with a scooped neck and thin straps exposing her shoulders. She looks sexy as hell in it. Her hair is loose and flowing with a small simple braid keeping her hair out of her eyes and tucked behind her ear. My heart skips a beat as I look at her angelic face. Her expression is a mixture of love and wonder, her eyes are more hazel than I have ever seen them, and her gleaming smile overwhelms me. That one tear that’s been welling in my eye finally falls. And I know that I was able to turn her saddest day into her happiest day.

As she stands there waiting for the music to cue again, her mouth drops open when Ryan Ogden starts to sing “I Can’t Wait.” Jack is a friend of the lead singer from Runner Runner and his song couldn’t be more perfect for me to dedicate to my girl. With just his guitar in hand, he starts to sing and she slowly walks down the aisle with the handful of wildflowers I picked for her from her flower garden this morning. A wave of sadness suddenly overcomes me. For one small moment of watching her walk alone, I wish her father were here to walk her down the aisle and then I wish my father were here, too. But I shove those thoughts aside as I move to meet her halfway.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Hi,” she whispers back.

My eyes drink her in. She looks absolutely beautiful in her silky long white dress. It hugs her body perfectly, showing off her amazing figure, and I can’t help but think she looks like Grace Kelly. But it’s the look on her face that sets my soul on fire.

I manage to say, “You look absolutely beautiful.”

Her glossy eyes look at me and then she, too, trails her eyes up and down my body. “You look amazing and I love your shoes,” she says with a wink

Then Garrett clears his throat and we both laugh. As I start to tell her how much I love her, she raises her hand and touches her index finger to my lips and mouths, “Shh.”

I kiss her finger and then grab her hand, moving to stand beside her. With our fingers laced together we walk the rest of the way down the aisle.

The ceremony is short. Our vows are a mixture of traditional lines mixed with our own words. Dahlia is surprised when it’s time for the ring exchange and I actually have matching wedding bands.

“Where did you get them?” she whispers, a look of utter happiness on her face.

I whisper that I got them on the day we were supposed to first get married. Tears roll down her cheeks and when I show her the inscription on the inside of hers, her hand flies to her mouth. I’ll take the happy tears over the sad tears any day. I kiss them away, knowing my life was never really complete until I met her.

Looking into her eyes, they tell me everything I need to know as I slide the ring on her finger and say the words that now touch her skin—“I love you more.”

The mood quickly changes from deeply emotional to hysterically funny when Garrett asks, “If anyone here knows why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.” I can only assume he printed an old-fashioned copy of a wedding ceremony script off the Internet. He looks around in question and then shakes his head, muttering something I can’t make out. Then taking a deep breath, it’s finally time. I look into her shining eyes as she says, “I do,” and I say the same.

When Garrett announces us as husband and wife, she’s finally mine and I get to kiss her for the first time as my wife. I wipe her tears, and while everyone claps, I take her face in my hands. I study her, moving my fingertips gently over her soft lips, etching every detail of how beautiful she looks today into my mind. But I know I don’t have to because her beauty is permanently etched into my soul.

So with the sun setting in the West, I kiss her. I pour all my love into this single, most important kiss—the kiss that ties us together forever. I brush my lips against hers, smelling the scent of the wildflowers all around us, and move my hands to pull her closer to me. Her back is bare and I find the soft spot in the middle and press my palms against it. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back with the exact same intensity. When Garrett clears his throat for the third time, we break away, both breathless. I lean my forehead against hers.

“We did it,” I whisper.

“We did it!” she smiles and I pick her up and swing her around as she giggles. God, I love that sound.

We spend the next hour taking pictures around the grounds. When we return to the observation deck, other guests have arrived and Nix and Garrett start popping champagne corks. Glasses are being filled and once served, Xander surprises me by clinking his glass with a spoon and making a toast.

Holding his glass up and looking at both of us he says, “If any two people in the world deserve happiness, it’s you two. The love you have for each other is something I can only hope I will experience a small piece of one day. To my brother, I want you to know that I admire you for always going after what you want, and although I may not always show it, I really do love you. And to my new sister-in-law, it wasn’t long ago that you said to me you’d keep hoping and wishing for the day I’d say I love you. Well, that day came a long time ago; I just didn’t tell you so I’m telling you now. Muse, thank you for making my brother so happy. I love you.”

We all clink our glasses and my eyes lock on Xander’s, silently thanking him. He’s with a date. Her name is Amy and he’s dated her off and on for years but I know he doesn’t love her. I hope he’s lucky enough to find a girl like mine someday—because he deserves this kind of love. I know he had it once.

Looking around at the rest of my family, I don’t see a dry eye among them. Looking sophisticated in her party dress, Bell comes over with mom and I motion Xander to join us. Jack follows and as we clink our glasses again my mom says, “To our family . . . may it grow and change, but never break apart.”

“My turn, my turn,” Bell insists and she makes the next toast. “To River and Dahlia, I love you both. And thank you so much for letting me plan your dream wedding with less than a day’s notice. No, but really, thank you—it did get me a full-time job with Tate Wyatt . . . my new boyfriend, and an assistant to boot,” she says, pointing over to a girl I hadn’t noticed directing some waiters where to put their trays of food. Raising our glasses, we laugh and congratulate her on her new job and her new boyfriend. The music starts to play and the family moment is broken. But I’m so appreciative of how easily Dahlia was welcomed by all of them and so thankful to have them. I watch Xander head back over to Amy and think how funny it is that he admires me. He was the strong one, the one who took the road that was right for him from the start, not the road that our father wanted him to take.

Looking around, Zane approaches Aerie and she seems to be asking him to do something with the cake because he picks it up and moves it. But she doesn’t seem to be happy with its location—she’s shaking her head no and pointing to a different table. Zane, looking fed up, picks it back up and sets it down where it was to begin with—who knows what’s going on? Even the cake itself makes me laugh because it has big purple flowers all over it—thanks to my sister still insisting that dahlias only come in the color purple.

With the party in full swing, I can finally get Dahlia alone. I pull her aside and lead her down the stairs. Most people come to the Griffith Park Observatory to look up at the stars and planets and to gaze at the picture-perfect view of the Hollywood sign. But tonight I only have eyes for my wife, my soul mate.

When we get to the bottom of the stairs, I open the door and lead her to the large white fountain in front of the building. Looking into her eyes and then at the fountain, I reach into my pocket and pull out two pennies.

Handing one to my wife, I grin before asking her, “Do you remember the rules?”

In her cute Southern accent she says, “You know what, kind sir, I think I do but maybe you’d better remind me.”

“I’d be happy to.” First, we both turn around. Then, on the count of three, we both throw the coins over our shoulders into the fountain while making a wish.

She pulls me closer to her and says, “You look so adorable when you explain your rules, I just wanted to watch you explain them again.”

I shake my head. “Again, adorable isn’t what I’m going for.”

She pulls me to her and drags her tongue along the inside of my lower lip. “Adorable turns me on.”

“Adorable works, then,” I groan and just then the sky opens up and it starts to rain.

“Come on, let’s do this before the rain really starts to come down.”

Quickly, we both turn around and holding my fingers up, I say, “One, two, three,” and then yell, “Go,” and we toss our coins over our shoulders and into the fountain.

I grab her hand. “Let’s make a run for it.”

But she lets my hand go and bends down to take her shoes off.

“Dahlia, what are you doing? You’re going to get soaked.”

“Taking my shoes off.”

“I can see that. Why?” But I already know why. God, I fucking love her.

“Because, silly, I want to jump in the puddles,” I say, right along with her. I clearly remember the day I watched her do this very same thing and just as I did then, I watch her with amazement and wonder.

And as the raindrops turn into tiny wishing wells gathering all around her, the same overwhelming urge to grant this girl her every wish doesn’t terrify me anymore. I now know the connection we share can never be broken—I know without a doubt that I will be her happily ever after.

After she jumps from puddle to puddle, she closes her eyes and raises her arms out to the side. She tips her head back and spins in circles as I join her. When I hear the band cue up the song I selected for our dance, I draw her in close to me and rest my fingers on her hips. Taking her face in my hands, I kiss her hard. She wraps her arms around my neck and I feel lost in her, lost in her touch, her soul, her love. But it’s not a kind of lost where you want to be found.

Slowing down, I never break our kiss as I concentrate on making sure it conveys how much I truly love her. When she starts to quiver I lean back and just stare at her—she’s everything I have ever wanted, everything I need. Pulling her body close enough to mine so that our hips are cradled together, I start swaying to the music and ask, “Beautiful girl, will you dance with me?”

She smiles at me, nodding her head. Looking at her now, I know I will always give her a reason to smile. She deserves that. As the song “Waiting for a Girl Like You” starts to play, we surround each other. We rock back and forth and I sing the lyrics to my wife, the words that are so perfectly fitting for the way I feel about her.

When the song ends, I slide my nose to her ear and whisper, “A long time ago, I wished for you and now I have you. See . . . wishes really do come true even if you tell someone your wish.”

Standing in the pouring rain, I place my hand behind her neck and gather her in close to me. When her lips meet mine, we kiss with a passion that only she has ever made me feel and it’s exhilarating and mind-blowing at the same time. Sliding my hands down her bare back, I look into her eyes and this time I ask, “What did you wish for just now?”

With her hands tangled in my hair she says, “Only for you, always. You’re the only thing I want to wish for. From the day I met you my life changed . . . the way you make me feel can’t be put into words. You make me smile in a special kind of way . . . you brighten my world . . . you make me fall more in love with you every day. I love you forever, I love you more, River Wilde. You turned my life into a fairy tale and I don’t need to wish for anything else as long as I have you.”

Her words sear me; just knowing she feels like that makes me shiver. With my hands pressed against the bare spot on her back I tell her, “That’s one wish I guarantee is granted. I love you, Dahlia Wilde. You turned my life from ordinary to extraordinary. You’re perfect, really.”