Page 120 of A Matter of Fact

“Will you marry me?” Rhys rasped, the question never feeling less urgent no matter how many times he asked it.

“Yes,” Beckett answered. He set down his drink and tipped Rhys’s chin up, then dipped down and brushed their lips together. It was soft and sweet, and it made Rhys hard. Everything Beckett did made him hard, though. It wasn’t a surprise.

Reluctantly, Rhys situated himself back in the lounger, brushing the sand off his knees and adjusting himself behind the waistband of his swim trunks.

“Do you want a big wedding?” he asked.

Beckett snorted in response. “Do I strike you as the type?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Beckett. You’re sitting with me on a beach in Italy, which four months ago would have been an impossibility. You’re difficult to keep up with these days.”

“That’s fair.” Beckett scratched at his throat. “And no.”

“Courthouse?” Rhys asked.

“Probably.” Beckett turned to him. “What do you want?”

“To marry you.”

“Clearly. But how?”

“As soon as possible,” Rhys answered.

“Where?”

“Here.”

“You’re missing the point.” Beckett rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think I am.”

“Your brother would not be happy if he wasn’t invited,” Beckett said.

“I’ll fly him over.”

“Oh, my God,” Beckett groaned again, covering his face with his hands. “You’re insufferable.”

Rhys couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He took a sip of his drink and stared at the sea, small blue waves breaking at the shoreline.

“I want to marry you at the courthouse,” he said. “In Myers Bluff, once we’re home. I would like Sebastian to be there, and Remington, and your friend Audra if you want.”

“I do,” Beckett said.

“I want you to wear navy,” Rhys went on. “A three-piece.”

“No tux?”

“Did you want one?” he asked.

“I mostly want to see you in one,” Beckett admitted.

“I’ll wear whatever you want.”

“More that I want to take you out of one,” Beckett said quietly, the admission almost lost to the crashing waves. “With the bow tie and the suspenders and all.”

“I’ll have one sent up to the room.” Rhys raised his hand to flag down someone from the hotel.

“You’re ridiculous.”