Her rapid-fire questions make me laugh. “Take a breath now, Layne Sharp.”
She takes an exaggerated breath and slowly releases it. “Done. Now answer me.”
“Have I told you today how much I love you?”
The broad smile on her face belies the thinly veiled threat behind her crinkled eyes. “You may have mentioned it when you married me.”
“Okay, I’ll give you a hint. It goes along with what you’d normally do after a wedding.”
“How is that a hint? That could be a dozen different things,” she complains.
“You won’t have to wait long to find out.” I point toward her window before turning into the driveway. “We’re here.”
“Ace, that house is stunning! I’ve never seen an actual old Southern plantation house.”
She’s right, the house is amazing. The two-story white plantation house is complete with tall white columns across the front and full wraparound porches on both levels. The red-brick driveway is lined with old oak trees that provide perpetual shade. But it’s what’s inside the house that I’m most excited about.
As we draw nearer to the house, she realizes all is not as it seems.
“Wait a minute. This isn’t a tourist attraction.” She cuts her eyes over to me, and I feign the most innocent look I can muster. Under the circumstances. “Why is it way out here by itself?”
“The women on the town council wouldn’t let her open it on Main Street,” I shrug.
“Why not?”
I want to kiss the area between her brows that’s adorably scrunched in confusion.
“Because then everyone in town would see them frequenting the store,” I laugh as I park the truck. “Let’s go find some sexy honeymoon lingerie so I can tear it off when I ravage you.”
“If you insist,” she replies. Her cheeks are suddenly flushed and she’s breathing heavier.
Serena’s Siren Song is our town’s best-kept secret. Serena turned the entire bottom floor of her two-story Southern mansion into a naughty and nice lingerie shop. She only carries the top of the line in lingerie and adult toys. Not that I’ve ever been here myself, but since she’s my cousin, I’ve heard all about it. While Layne was in the shower this morning, I sent a text to Serena to let her know I’d be by with someone special.
The door swings open wide as we approach the first step. “There’s my favorite cousin! Who’s this beautiful lady with you?” Serena steps out onto the porch and hugs me. Then she turns and hugs Layne like she’s known her all her life.
“This is Layne, my wife,” I say to Serena. Before she can reply, I continue, “Layne, this is my cousin, Serena. She owns this shop.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Serena.”
“Wife? What the hell, Ace? When did you get married and not invite me?” She turns to Layne. “It’s so nice to meet you, Layne.” Then back to me. “Explain.”
“Ralph married us a few minutes ago. We drove straight here after the ceremony. That’s how long we’ve been married, Serena.” I step behind Layne and wrap my arms around her, cocoon her in my embrace, and place kisses on her neck, just below her ear.
“At least you came to see me first. That’s some consolation. Congratulations to you both. She’s obviously the one for you, cuz. I’ve never seen you look at a woman like that before.”
“She definitely is the only one for me.”
“You two take your time in the shop. Whatever you pick out is on the house—my wedding gift to you both, even though I wasn’t actually invited to the wedding.”
“If it makes you feel any better, no one was invited. We got engaged last night and married this morning,” Layne replies.
“When you know, you know,” Serena replies. “Lock up when you’re done, Ace.” With a hug and a kiss goodbye, Serena trots to her car and leaves us alone in the store.
With my hand on the small of her back, I lead Layne inside and suddenly feel completely out of my element. There are see-through, lacy, racy lingerie sets in every direction. Each room has a different theme, some are sweet and sexy while others are provocatively racy. Each rack holds a different color. The dressing rooms are all in the back of the house, complete with elegant, brown leather chaise loungers, a full wall mirror, and a tri-fold standing mirror to provide a full-body view.
I can’t decide which one I want to see her in first.
“Oh, I like this one,” she exclaims.
I’m not sure what the thin straps of fabric are that she’s holding up, but I’m more than willing to learn. She picks out several others in different colors and fabrics before walking toward the dressing room.
“Hold up,” I call out as I jog toward her. “You’ll need help trying those on.”
“Uh-huh,” she replies. “What a good husband you are, volunteering to help me try on clothes.”