The Belle and the Beard by Kate Canterbary (carter reed TXT) 📗

The past year was tough. It was good—wonderful, really—but it was tough.

We hired a crew to complete the work at Midge's cottage. It wasn't like I could refinish the hardwood floors myself or replace the roof or update the electrical system. And goddamn, that porch. That porch. It made sense to hand that over to the professionals, especially since my mom and Martin visited in the spring and we rented it out shortly after.

I asked my mother-in-law to help me clean out Midge's room since she'd only met the woman in passing and wouldn't burst into flame if she came across a stray dildo. True to form, Diana had the place packed up and straightened out in an afternoon, and she didn't say a single word about sex toys.

Oh, yeah. My mother-in-law. I didn't bother with any future business and it wasn't like Diana would allow such a thing anyway. Linden made good on that over the top proposal promise with a New Year's Eve party at a restaurant in Boston. Instead of everyone yelling "Happy New Year" at midnight, they fell silent while he pulled out a ring. After I sobbed all the tears in my body and managed a jerky nod that yes, yes, I'd totally marry him, the confetti flew and the "Happy New Years" rang out and that year started off right.

I found best friends—sisters, really—in Magnolia and Zelda though those relationships didn't come easily to me. I still found myself waiting to text them if they hadn't texted me yet in a given day. I didn't know how to ask for their help without immediately acknowledging their assistance in excessive ways. It wasn't until Zelda sat me down over the summer and explained that I could not send her dozens of cookies every time she joined me for a wedding dress fitting or offered her opinion on flowers or bands. She insisted she wouldn't help if she didn't have the time or interest, and she didn't need more than my words of gratitude. Especially since Ash devoured all the cookies before Zelda even got her hands on them.

Linden and Magnolia's partnership launched without a hitch. Instead of regular office meetings, they decided to sit down together at Magnolia's South End brownstone every Friday afternoon at three. Ash often joined too. Those gatherings quickly expanded to include a family dinner and we rotated between our homes. It was my favorite part of the week. I loved hosting everyone at our house or visiting Ash and Zelda or Magnolia, Rob, and the twins in Boston. I loved these newborn traditions of ours. I loved having a home and people to fill it with.

And now, a full year since losing my job and all the things I thought I knew about myself, I glanced in the mirror in my hotel room to check my hair one more time before a limo delivered me and my bridesmaids to the orchard where I'd walk down the aisle to marry Linden. My hair was in the same wavy style as always but though I didn't think of it as my something old. The handkerchief sewn into the lining of my gown, right over my heart, was something old.

I'd borrowed the single strand of pearls around my neck from my mother. She'd worn them on her wedding day.

The perfectly peach flats peeking out from under my creamy white gown were new—a gift from my best ladies, Zelda and Magnolia.

The bite mark on the underside of my breast was something blue.

As I stared at my reflection, I caught sight of Linden watching me from the doorway. He eyed the lace running down to my wrists, over my back. It felt appropriately vintage to me, nearly Grace Kelly in its vibe.

"Didn't think I'd forget, did you?" he asked.

I shook my head. Linden didn't forget. He didn't break promises. He didn't let me down. Like he'd said all those months ago, he wasn't going to be one of those people. I'd assumed that was nothing more than pillow talk. The kind of things people said when they were drowning in sexual tension.

I knew better now. I knew he'd meant it.

"Never doubted you for a second," I said.

He stepped closer, his hands held wide as they ghosted over my dress. "How long do we have?"

In the reflection, I spied the digital clock beside the bed. "Five minutes. Maybe one or two more if Magnolia can stall."

He shucked off his suit coat, tossed it to the bed. Flipped his tie over his shoulder. Rolled up his cuffs. "Gonna have to be quick," he said, dropping to his knees behind me. He carefully lifted the skirt to my waist, skimmed his hand up my thigh and dragged my panties down. "Hold on, Peach. I'm gonna make this good for you."

He placed a hand below my navel, an anchor to keep me from pitching over when I lost my footing. I would, of course. I'd fall apart for him now the same as I always did.

His lips traveled up my bottom, his soft-coarse beard the very best tease, and I groaned out loud when he elbowed my stance open and ducked his head between my legs.

He parted my folds with his tongue, licking just enough to force a desperate moan from my lips. My heels came out of my shoes as I leaned up on my tiptoes. He speared his tongue inside me and I arched into it, into the devastating heat of it. His growl rumbled through me. "Oh, fuck, yes. Yes. Eat that pussy."

"That's right, little wife," he said. "This is all mine."

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, finding myself with hazed-over eyes and slack-jawed lips as he tugged my most tender places between his teeth, sucking and nipping, and fucking me with two fingers. There was no way I'd walk down the aisle on steady legs and that was exactly the plan.

"I