I closed my eyes and felt Wes cup my cheeks. “Honey, do you not want a big wedding?”
I shook my head. “Never did,” I said softly, getting myself back under control. For a moment there, I thought I was going to black out.
“Okay, then. We’ll go small. Hell, we can elope if you’d like.”
Again, I shook my head. “No, your mom would be so sad. I’d never want to take that from her.”
“Well, what about something small, more quaint? Where’s a place that reminds you of one another?” Rachel spoke softly while I stared into Wes’s beautiful eyes.
We both smiled, and at the same time said exactly the same thing. “The beach.”
Rachel clapped. “That was so cute! Awww.”
Mason groaned. “Beach wedding. Cool, guys. How’s that gonna work in January? Isn’t it cold?”
Wes shook his head. “Nope. Actually, the weather in Malibu in January is usually really beautiful. Seventies, even eighties sometimes. Thought it can dip down into the sixties. Either way, it’s still perfect.”
Our beach. Marrying the man I love, steps away from where we surfed, walked, cuddled, and watched the sunset with the waves and sun as our background.
“Wes, it’s perfect. Let’s get married on our beach.”
“And what about a reception?” he asked.
And this is where I would probably score some serious points with my soon-to-be mother in law. “What about your parents’ estate?”
His eyes gleamed, positively smiled in response. “She would love that. We can get married on our beach for us. Have our reception at my childhood home.” He held my cheeks. “Christ, I love you more and more each and every day.”
“Rockin’,” I whispered as he laughed and kissed me sweetly. Nothing like his normally intense kisses, but definitely one to remember.
“Well that’s settled. Now I know it’s going to be small, but can we come? Mason will be available in January, and we’d love to see Malibu.”
“Of course. The more the merrier.” I repeated her earlier response.
“Really?” Wes’s shocked expression probably meant he hadn’t heard the sarcasm in my tone.
I shook my head. “No, not really. I can mentally make a list of twenty or less that I would invite. Can you get your list to twenty or less?”
He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I don’t know. We’ll talk about it, though. I’ll make a list tonight.”
Tonight. He’d make a list of who to invite to our wedding tonight. The man was dead set on this happening in seven weeks. Now I only needed to get to the bottom of why.
* * *
Lunch with Mason and Rachel turned into dinner as well. We had so much to catch up on that we hung out at the pub drinking beer, snacking, and talking about everything from their really involved wedding plans to the house they were buying. We also caught up on his family, hers, my experience with Max, and everything in between. I’d already given Mason the heads up not to talk about Wes’s captivity or the fact that I’d called him pretty regularly over the past month to hash out my feelings over some of the things Wes and I had dealt with. He was great at giving an unbiased male perspective and wasn’t the type of guy to hold it against Wes or tell him at all. We were friends, Mace and I. We’d formed a bond over the month I was there and again when he came to my rescue the last time we were in New York. My relationship with him felt very much like the relationship I had with my brother Maxwell—another person I needed to call and give a heads up about the wedding. Then again, we were due to hit Texas for Thanksgiving, so I’d see him in a couple weeks anyway. First and foremost, I needed to deal with Wes and his obsessive compulsion need to get married immediately.
* * *
“You know, I like Mason and Rachel. They’re a great couple. Good team, too,” Wes said as he pulled off his shirt.
For a moment I lost all train of thought. Weston’s bare, muscled chest was on full display in front of me, and it deserved a moment of silent reflection. Reminded me of one of those famous paintings by Monet or Van Gogh. When they were on full display, the lighting just right, they put the observer in a trance, as did my man’s sexy ass body.
Wes grinned. “Cat got your tongue?” He probably saw the drool sliding down my chin.
I shook my head. Nope. Not gonna happen. Do not deviate from course. Need answers.
“Wes, can I ask you something?” I asked at the same time that he pushed down his jeans and stood in only his briefs.
Fight it, Mia. Fight! You can do this. Do not let the sexy bastard get you off your train of thought. This is important.