Greg opened the door to the limo and Jonathan picked me up and placed me inside.
As soon as the door shut, his lips were on mine and his hands were all over me. I leaned forward and started tearing off his shirt, murmuring as he slid his hand behind the back of my dress.
I was tossing his shirt across the seat when I heard a series of loud popping noises outside.
I immediately stopped. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” He was still kissing me.
“That sound...It’s like gunfire.”
He let my lips go and smiled. “Fireworks.”
As if he could read my mind, he pulled me into his lap and placed his jacket over me. Then he rolled the window down and we watched as our names were spelled out in colorful sparks across the night sky: “Claire...” “Jonathan...” “Mr...” “Mrs...” “Statham...” “Together...” “Forever...” “Until...” “The Very...” “End...”
“Do I even want to know how much that costs?” I whispered, entranced.
“Probably not.” He smiled and ran his fingers through my now-tousled hair.
We watched the fireworks until they ended, until the only thing left in the sky was the stars, and by that time we’d made it to his plane.
He re-adjusted my dress and opened the door, but I grabbed his shoulder.
“Wait...Can you please tell me where we’re going? I need to make sure my staff has some of type of idea over the next two weeks...Just in case there’s an emergency and they need to contact me...I know you said we’re not supposed to do any work but—”
“First of all, we’re going to be gone for four weeks, not two.” He held my face in his hands and narrowed his eyes at me. “Second, your staff will not be allowed to contact you. At all. Neither of us is doing any work and if there is an emergency, you’ll find out about it when we get back. Third, we’re going to eight different countries and you’ll find out what they are when we get there. And fourth, since you’ve always wanted to go...We’ll take a yacht through the Panama Canal on the way back.”
I cut him off with a kiss and cried.
“Come on...” He led me out of the car and up the plane’s steps.
I didn’t wince when the plane roared down the runway, and I didn’t shut my eyes when we ascended into the air. I kept my gaze locked on his and smiled until the pilot said the newest set of secure words, “All clear, Mrs. Statham.”
As the flight attendant served us a bottle of champagne, Jonathan took my hand in his. “So, Mrs. Statham...Was our first time as a married couple special to you?”
“Yes...All four...”
“Hmmm.”
“You know sex doesn’t happen as often after marriage right? That after the first six months or so, the honeymoon phase ends and you’re so busy that you have to schedule sex sometimes...”
He smiled and unbuckled my seatbelt with his other hand. “Claire Statham...” He pulled me into his lap. “What makes you think you and I will ever have that problem?”
“It’s natural. That’s just how it works. Now that we’re married, we don’t have to do it so much.”
“I’m going to f**k you every day.”
“No, listen—”
“Every. Day.”
I smiled. “You are so charming when you talk like that...”
“I’m well aware.” He smiled and eased me out of his lap before standing up. “My wife loves when I talk dirty to her, but she won’t admit it.”
“She sounds like she’s too classy for you.”
He rolled his eyes and led me into the private bedroom at the back of plane. Locking the door, he pressed his lips against mine. “For the record, Mrs. Statham, our ‘honeymoon phase’ will never end.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“Shhh.” He kissed me. “It was torture not being able to make love to you for weeks, Claire...You damn near broke me...You don’t even understand how badly I wanted you at your bachelorette party, how much it hurt to lie in bed next to you without being allowed to have you...But now that I know what it feels like to be with you again, I can f**king guarantee that I will never go a day without making love to you.”
“Is that another one of your agreements?”
“No.” He smiled and pulled me over to the bed, unzipping the back of my dress. “It’s a promise.”
Epilogue
Claire
One year later...
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror with a pair of scissors poised high above my head. I made sure to hold the strands taut, and then I counted.
One....Two...
“What are you doing, Claire?” Jonathan walked into the room with his eyebrow raised.
“I spotted two gray hairs today.”
“And?”
“And I want to get rid of them.”
He rolled his eyes and took the scissors out of my hand, placing them back into the drawer. He wrapped his arm around my waist and led me out into our living room.
“Every man in my family started graying at thirty five.” He smiled. “You should leave your hair alone so we can match.”