Just My Luck (The Kings)

Leaving our humble cave behind us, we opted to explore the Wild Iris Bed-and-Breakfast. It was delightfully ridiculous. From the outside, the Victorian-style estate was painted a soft lavender. The grand turret faced Lake Michigan, and I wondered what type of themed room it held.

Damn shame if it isn’t pirates.

With a stifled giggle, I wondered if Bug understood where she had booked our stay or if she knew the Wild Iris was exactly the kind of place that would make me giggle while simultaneously annoying the hell out of her uptight nephew.

Knowing Bug’s austere reputation, I suspected the latter.

Abel skulked closely behind me as I wound through the lobby and exited out the back onto the wide, open porch. Cozy chairs were arranged in groups of two or three with side tables adorned with flowers. More steps led off the back deck to a small boardwalk that directed guests to the beachfront. Near the shoreline, I spotted a bonfire pit with benches made from tree trunks split in half around it.

Waves ebbed and flowed onto the clean, sandy beaches. On the distant coastline, familiar sand dunes rose high above the water, but at our particular stretch of beach, the open shoreline was flat and inviting.

Content, I sucked in a deep breath of warm lake air. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

When he didn’t respond, I turned to find Abel staring at me. He shifted under my attention, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Gorgeous.”

His gaze fell to my mouth, and heat flooded my cheeks in response.

“Hello!” An elderly singsong voice called from behind us. “Yoo-hoo!”

In unison, we shifted to see a woman exiting the french doors, balancing a small tray of what appeared to be a fizzy, cider-colored cocktail in champagne flutes. She waved wildly with her free hand as the glasses balanced precariously.

The woman was dressed to match the house in a flashy lavender jacket and flowing purple slacks. On top of her silver curls was a large floppy hat trimmed with lavender fringe and feathers.

“Good evening!” she called as she got closer. “Welcome to the Wild Iris. My name is Gladys. Ruby checked you in, but I just couldn’t wait to meet you! We love having newlyweds stay with us. Please, try this.” She moved the tray between us. “It’s called Wedded Bliss.”

Abel and I smiled, and each of us took a champagne flute from her tray. Each glass contained a bubbly drink, featured two slices of fig, and was garnished with a sprig of thyme.

“This looks amazing! Thank you,” I said as I took a sip.

Gladys grinned. “It’s got champagne, honey, orange liqueur, and apple cider. The Greeks used to prescribe honey for sexual vigor!” Her shoulders shimmied as she grinned.

I sputtered and choked on my drink. Bubbles fizzed up my nose as I gasped for air through my laughter. A hard thump landed on my back as Abel tried to help clear the drink from my system.This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Gladys winked. “Happy honeymoon, you two!”

Abel awkwardly raised his champagne flute, and I dissolved into another fit of laughter as Gladys sashayed away, in search of her next unsuspecting couple—of that I was certain.

I cleared my throat again as Abel’s hand softly thumped my back once more. “Thanks.” I smiled and took a more careful sip. “It’s good. You should try it.”

He eyed the cocktail as though one sip would have us tearing at each other’s clothing. Which, to be honest, wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.

My eyes dropped to his broad chest. It would be unreal to see him completely undressed and looming over me. It was almost as if I could imagine his large hands gripping my hips, pulling them down the mattress toward him. Tiny muscles fluttered low as a throb settled between my legs and heat spread across my chest.

Abel cleared his throat and I blinked up at him, realizing I’d just been caught ogling him and thinking very naughty things about my pretend husband.

I stared down at the drink in my hand.

Jesus, what is in this?

A playful smirk tipped up the corner of Abel’s mouth, and I squared my shoulders to stare straight ahead at the rippling water in the distance.

The Wild Iris was fully booked, and slowly Gladys made her way around to empty her tray. We offered polite nods and tight smiles to other guests as we relaxed on the porch or took a walk down the beach.

To my surprise, I could actually relax around Abel. He was a man of few words, but the more time I spent with him, the more I realized his silence wasn’t because he was just some grumpy asshole. Instead, he was thoughtful. Considerate. When he decided to contribute to a conversation, he chose his words carefully.

Abel had stopped Gladys, asking for her recommendation for a casual dinner. She pointed up the beach, assuring us that there were a few local restaurants within walking distance. We had eventually found the perfect place—one that served burgers and beer on the beach.

After our dinner, we took our time walking back toward the Wild Iris, the sunset blazing against the watery horizon. As the Wild Iris came into view, we noticed a fire had been lit in the pit on the beach.

I lifted a shoulder and looked at him. “Want to?”

His calm eyes looked down at me. “If you do.”

As we approached, Gladys’s voice called over the crowd. “There they are. Our newlyweds!”

I offered an awkward wave at the couples gathered by the fire. Wooden benches were arranged in a semicircle, opening to the pit and the lake beyond.

Gladys fussed and dusted sand from her hands. “There’s not a lot of room, but, Mr. King, if you sit there, your wife could take your lap.”

I gulped and my eyes flashed to his.

He lowered himself to the wooden bench and slapped his thigh. “Come on, Jane. Take a seat.”

I liked the playful side of him and how it always seemed to catch me by surprise. Carefully, I lowered myself onto his lap. His muscular thighs were warm and wide, plenty of room for me to sit and get comfortable. His hand settled at the side of my hip, and I draped one arm across his shoulder.

He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “This okay?”

The deep rumble of his voice across the shell of my ear sent shivers down my back.

“Are you cold?” he asked, but then reached back and grabbed a rolled-up blanket from the pile behind him before I could respond. Carefully, Abel unrolled the flannel blanket and draped it across my shoulders, tucking it in at the edges to make sure it didn’t slip.

I clutched the edge at my chest. “Thank you.”

The conversation and crackling fire enveloped us. His eyes moved to my lips again, and I wondered if he might do it—kiss me and claim me as his wife in front of the group of strangers.

Do it.

It won’t be fake this time.

I wet my lips as I stared at his mouth. Beneath me his body was warm and hard, and I fought the urge to squirm in his lap. In the firelight, I tried to memorize the slope and planes of his handsome face. His fingers drew soft circles at my hip as conversations overlapped around us.

“Do you want to go back to the room?” His words dripped with dark intention.

I lifted my chin in a jerky nod.

Abel rose, taking me with him and gently setting me on my feet. I went to remove the blanket, but Gladys stopped me. “No need, dear. Just bring it back in the morning.” She winked and my stomach somersaulted. “Have fun, you two.”

I turned, feeling the blush deepen in my cheeks. As we walked side by side toward the house, Abel’s wide palm slipped down my arm, capturing my hand in his. His palm was wide and warm. I squeezed, loving the strength and comfort his touch provided.

When I risked a glance at his face, he leaned in. “They’re still watching.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

When we reached our room, Abel dropped my hand to unlock the door to let us back into the Caveman Suite.

I stared at the leopard-clad bed as hope and arousal coursed through me.

Abel moved behind me and dropped the key on the small boulder-like table beside the door. “I’ll take the floor.”

Hope squeaked out of me like a leaking balloon. “What?”

He slipped off his boots and grabbed a pillow from the bed, dropping it to the floor. “I can sleep here.”

Embarrassment flooded through me. Had a tiny part of me hoped he wasn’t faking everything down by the fire and we might come back to the room to make a few more bad decisions?

Of course I did.

Flustered, I swiped a loose strand of hair away from my face. “Don’t be ridiculous. The bed is huge. We’ll just take opposite sides. It’s fine.”

Fully ready to argue, I was shocked when he simply said, “Okay.”

“Oh. Okay.” I looked around. “I’ll change in the bathroom.”

I scurried away, too embarrassed to even look at him as I dragged my duffel bag into the en suite bathroom with me.

Once behind a locked door, I braced myself against the sink and looked into the mirror.

What the fuck? I mouthed to myself.

I pressed my hands into my eyes and sighed. Get your shit together. I pointed at myself in the mirror to drive home the point that this was entirely ridiculous.

I slipped on my pajamas and quickly brushed my teeth and hair. I surveyed the simple floral shorts and matching pajama top. It wasn’t overly sexy, but the shorts cut high on my thighs and made me feel feminine and pretty.

Sleep on the floor, my ass.

When I reentered the room, the lighting was dim, and I could just make out Abel’s hulking frame beneath the sheets. Light danced on the cave-like walls, wrapping us in a cozy cocoon of soft, glowing light.

“I feel like Jane would cartwheel over to the bed or something,” I joked.

His soft chuckle filled the darkened room. “You can try.”

I smiled and pulled back the covers. The bed was large, but so was he. Abel’s bare chest and black boxer briefs flashed into view.

“Oh.” I quickly replaced the covers in panic.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yep.” I nodded and gulped.

I am definitely not okay.

Sliding into bed beside Abel, I lay on my back with wide eyes and a pounding heart, and I stared at the cave painting that decorated the ceiling. I didn’t need to think about the fact that Abel had a body like that and he was inches away from me in nothing but a pair of tight boxer briefs.

I listened to the rhythmic inhale and exhale of his breathing, painfully aware of the proximity of his body to mine. I lay there, wondering about my complicated, brooding husband. Every time I thought I understood him, he revealed another complicated layer.

I sighed as I stared up. “Hell of a honeymoon.”

He exhaled a tiny laugh through his nose. “Good night, wife.”

I smiled in the darkness. “Good night, husband.”

There were worse things in the world than lying beside the hottest man on the planet, knowing he was completely off limits.

Trouble was, I couldn’t seem to think of a single one.