The Training

tonight.”

“That’s the best news?”

I swirled us around and caught sight of Melanie talking with Linda. I had almost been rude to her earlier. Thankfully, Abby had been around to temper my attitude. And, truth be told, having Melanie catch me in a passionate embrace with Abby hadn’t been that bad. If there had been any doubt I was off-limits, the point had been made now.

“Yes,” I said, answering her question. “It’s been far too long since I’ve had you in my bed.”

“Nathaniel.”

“Admit it. You feel it, too.”

Her hand dipped down so it rested below my waist. Low enough to prove her point, but not quite low enough to be considered inappropriate. “Of course I feel it,” she said.

“I’m looking forward to having you in my arms as I sleep tonight,” I said, tightening my arms around her.

“Sleep? Is that all?”

“No, but if I talk about it too much, I may drag you up to a spare bedroom or haul you into a closet.”

“And that would be bad because . . . ?” she teased, pushing her hips against me.

I bent my head and gave her earlobe a sharp bite, right where she liked it. “Because I’m going to take my time once I get you home.”

Her breathing was short and ragged. “I thought you agreed to hard and fast first?”

I ground my hips against hers, hoping the movement was inconspicuous to any onlooking wedding guests. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Changed your mind?” she asked, and I realized we weren’t dancing so much anymore, just swaying side to side as the music played.

I moved us forward into more of a dancing motion. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to thoroughly enjoy taking my time with you.”

“Hmph,” she said, but didn’t argue.

I hid my smile in her hair. She was so fucking cute when she was flustered.

The ride home was a torture of sorts. I kept my hand in Abby’s, and she passed time by drawing tiny figure eights on it. We spoke of the wedding details, laughing over a few slips, discussing various wedding guests and agreeing how nice it was the paparazzi were nowhere in sight for the entire event. It was an altogether simple conversation, especially considering how tightly strung we both were. How each sweep of her finger on my hand seemed to reach directly to my groin.

“I have to take Apollo out,” I said when I pulled into the drive. I loved Apollo, really, but at times, I wished he were potty-trained.

“I’ll wait upstairs,” she said.

“Foyer, please.”

One of her eyebrows rode in the pale silvery light of the house. “Okay.”

I kissed her cheek as I helped her out of the car. “Thank you.”

After I took Apollo outside and we made it back into the house, I locked the door behind me. She waited for me, rocking slightly on her heels.

“Is there a reason you wanted me to wait for you here?” she asked, eyes full of mischief.

I shrugged out of my jacket and dropped it on the floor. “Do you remember the time I had you spend the entire weekend naked?”

“Vaguely,” she teased.

I nodded to the stairs. “And I took you there, on the third step?”

“You remember the step?”

I made it to her and I placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “I remember everything. I remember looking at you, here in the foyer as you waited for me, and realizing even then that you belonged here. With me.”

“That weekend?” Her breath swept warm against my neck.

“Yes. I knew without a doubt, that weekend.”

“I never knew.”

“I know.”

I tipped her head so our eyes met.

“ ‘There is a Lady sweet and kind,

Was never a face so pleased my mind;

I did but see her passing by.’ ”

I gently undid her hair and dropped the pins to the floor. They echoed as they hit the marble.

“ ‘And yet I love her till I die.’ ”

She gave a short intake of breath at my recitation of one of her favorite poems, and I smiled at her response. Traced the outline of her lips.

“ ‘Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,

Her wit, her voice my heart beguiles,

Beguiles my heart, I know not why,

And yet I love her till I die.’ ”

“Nathaniel,” she murmured softly.

I reached behind her and tugged the zipper of her dress down as far as I could. Then I pushed the soft material from her one shoulder.

“ ‘Cupid is winged and doth range,

Her country so my love doth change.’ ”

Her eyes closed and her lips parted. I trailed a line of kisses down her neck.

“ ‘But change she earth, or change she sky,

Yet will I love her till I die.’ ”

I slipped the dress down her body, allowing my hands the freedom to run over her form. Everything felt free now. I was free. Free to love her the way she deserved. Free to accept the love she gave me. Everything felt so . . . possible.

“I love you, Nathaniel,” she whispered.

I stilled at her words. It was the first time she’d ever told me she loved me first. How was it possible that four short words made my heart constrict the way they did?

Blood surged through my body in response to her whisper, and I played them over and over in my head.

“God, Abby, I love you,” I whispered back. As urgent as our need had felt hours earlier, the urgency had left, leaving in its wake the desire to reconnect.

Her fingers undid the buttons on my shirt. Slowly. She took her time as well, slipping her hands under the fabric, ghosting her thumbs along my nipples. I leaned down and kissed her again. And for a time we stood there, touching and teasing as we undressed each other. Our simple whispers echoed softly in the moonlit room.

“Mmm.”

“Yes.”

“There?”

“Again.”

“More.”

“Now.”

“Please.”

Until, finally, we agreed together.

“Upstairs.”