Page 43 of Mr. Brightside
Shit.
Did I fuck this up already?
I scramble for something to save the moment, but he speaks first.
“Are you serious?”
When I finally lock in on him, he’s assessing me through squinted eyes. I have no damn idea how to respond.
“I mean, if you’re too busy, or if you don’t think it’s a good idea…”
Fuckin’ A.
After this morning’s epic blowjob exchange, I thought for sure he’d be excited about this. All I want to do is eat seafood, drink fruity drinks, and explore the chemistry brewing between us. That’s what a honeymoon is about, right? Who wouldn’t want to go on a gluttonous, sexy vacation?
“It’s the best idea. So where are we going?”
He has the most earnest expression—like he can’t believe I did this. Relief washes over me as I snag my chocolate milkshake from the tray hanging off the window and suck down a few strong pulls.
“I booked a private villa at an all-inclusive resort on the treasure coast in Florida. We’ll have a two-story beachfront house all to ourselves. There are a few restaurants and lounges on property, and we’ll have access to the pool, too. We only have two nights because I have to get back to the businesses, and I didn’t want to ask about a passport and spoil the surprise, but—”
“Jake.”
I stop blabbering and meet his gaze.
“It sounds perfect.”
Chapter 20
Cory
Navigatingthroughtheairportwith Jake is like traveling with a celebrity. He unwittingly captivates every person we encounter. He’s enigmatic on a typical day. Add in the happy-go-lucky, shit-eating grin he’s been sporting since we said ‘I do,’ and people just flock to him.
My brain short-circuited when he told me he booked a honeymoon. I haven’t been on a real vacation in years. Given the shotgun nature of our marriage, I assumed all the wedding traditions were off the table. I assumed wrong.
As if it wasn’t enough to surprise me with a gorgeous Tom Ford suit. Or to whisk me away in a vintage convertible. Or to plan a pitstop at Swenson’s, complete with “reserved parking” and all my favorites ready when we pulled in.
The only thing that would have made the day more perfect was if he hadn’t had to work. He apologized endlessly for having to go in on our wedding night, but in order to take off for the next few days, he felt like it was only fair if he closed. He didn’t want to upset his staff, and he didn’t want anyone to work all weekend without a day off. That’s just who he is.
I was originally thankful when I saw his calendar for the week. Why wouldn’t he go to work on our wedding night? Up until two days ago, we’d done nothing more than hold hands and hug. Neither one of us could have anticipated the visceral spark that ignited when we hooked up again.
Something shifted at The Oak on Thursday night. I knew we’d get here eventually, he and I. The chemistry between us is too intense to be ignored. But I never imagined it would happen this fast or feel this right.
Now we’re here. At the Cleveland airport on a Saturday morning, surrounded by other couples and families bustling through the terminal.
No one would look at us right now and think this was a shotgun marriage for financial gain or that we aren’t emotionally and physically invested.
Jake’s waiting patiently as I relace my sneakers near the security checkpoint, one large hand resting just above my knee while he fiddles with his phone.
When I finally push to my feet, he hits me with the most dazzling smile. “Ready?”He slings his carry-on over his shoulder, then picks up my messenger bag, too. He effortlessly slips his hand into mine, ease and care coursing between us like we’ve been doing this for years, not just days.
“Are you hungry? Do you need more coffee?”
I haven’t flown anywhere in years. I forgot you can’t take liquids past the security checkpoint and had to abandon my to-go travel mug in the car. Of course he noticed.
“Coffee would be great,” I confess as he veers off and guides me toward a kiosk. He drops our bags on a bench, then leans in and kisses me quickly. “Wait here,” he murmurs as he heads to the back of the line.
I watch, spellbound, as he strikes up a conversation with the two women in front of him, making them laugh with quips or anecdotes, I’m sure. His dimple pops when he smiles, listening intently to their responses. It’s fascinating to watch him move through the world—this hot-as-sin human dripping with sincerity. He’s a storm of magnetism, authenticity, and humility. It’s disarming in the best possible way.