This was right. I could feel it.
We arrived in Paris very early Sunday morning. Erin and I had planned to spend one night in the city, and we’d decided to splurge on a room at the Ritz since it was only the one night and we were splitting it. The rest of the week we’d be staying right at Lucas’s family villa. Since Erin was in cahoots with Nick, he’d arranged for a second room at the Ritz, and Erin ended up having our original room to herself. She happily disappeared into the elevator when we arrived at the hotel, bleary-eyed with jet lag. She said she was so tired, she didn’t think she’d even leave the room.
We didn’t leave ours either.
Perhaps we should have. Perhaps it was sacrilege to have all of Paris waiting outside our windows, and me a history major, but the most romantic city in the world was doing a fine job casting its spell within our four walls.
Well, more if you count the bathroom. We did it in there too.
But the bed…oh, that bed. King sized, covered with crisp white linens and mounded with pillows, utterly inviting. As soon as the door was shut behind us, Nick swept me off my feet and carried me to it, our mouths drawn together as if by force. I threw my arms around his neck and kicked off my flats, exhausted but unable to stop myself from wanting him, now that we were finally alone.
He set me gently on the bed and looked down at me, nudging his shoes off. “Mrs. Lupo.”
My eyebrows rose. “Not yet I’m not.”
He grinned. “I know, just trying it out.”
“I like it.”
He stretched out on the bed, covering his body with mine. “Me too.”
His weight on me was simultaneously too much and not enough. I reached up and pulled his lips to mine again, teasing them open, running my tongue along them, tugging at them with my teeth. “I missed your mouth,” I whispered, hooking one leg behind him. “I love it so much.”
“It’s all yours.”
My heart beat faster at the thought. “You know what I was just thinking?” I asked, letting him pull me up so he could work my dress over my head.
“What?” He tossed it to the floor, unhooked my bra, and slipped it from my arms. “I hope it involves my mouth on your tits, because that’s what I was thinking.”
I giggled and lay back as he lowered his lips to one breast and then the other and back again, like a kid who just unwrapped two awesome Christmas toys and can’t decided which one to play with first. “No, but don’t stop. I was thinking,” I said, arching my back and running my fingers through his hair, “that I never even had time to change my name the first time around. And that might have been a good thing, because Coco Lupo sounds like a cocktail, not a person.”
He lifted his head and looked at me. “I’d drink that cocktail morning, noon, and night. I’d get drunk on it.”
“I’m sure you would.” I moaned luxuriantly as his mouth worked its way down my chest to my belly. “Even so, maybe I’ll hyphenate.”
“My love.” Nick straightened to unbutton and remove his shirt and then yanked his white undershirt over his head. “You can do anything you want. You can even keep your name if you want to, although I’d be really proud if you took mine.”
In the soft morning light coming in through the windows, Nick had never looked more handsome. I loved everything about him, from the gray hair at his temples to the ink on his skin, to the heart that beat beneath my name. I reached up and touched it. “God, I love you. And yes, I’ll take your name. I love your family and its history—I can’t wait to call it mine.”
He smiled at me. “I love that ring on you. The whole flight here, I kept looking at your hand.”
“Me too!” I held it out between us. “It’s so beautiful, Nick. I can’t believe you had it made this week.” On the way to Paris, Nick had explained that after flying in from L.A. late Wednesday, he’d driven overnight to Buffalo, where his dad’s cousin Vinnie lived, the granddaughter of Tiny who had the ring. He’d taken a million photos of it, not trusting anyone else to take them. He wanted every detail right. Then he’d driven back to Detroit and gone straight to a jeweler, begging her to make a copy quickly. After hearing his plea, she agreed—and she also wanted permission to use his name, image, and the story for advertising.
“Wait a minute, I just realized something. You went to get the ring last week? You didn’t even know if I’d take you back yet.”
“Very optimistic of me, I know.” He dropped his mouth to my belly again, shimmying down further. “But I wasn’t sure what the test results would be, and I was sort of hoping the ring would win you over either way. Besides—Noni told me not to wait any longer, not if I knew this was what I wanted.”
“I’m glad you didn’t wait. I’m glad you surprised me that way. I think it means you know me too well.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “We’ll have a good story to tell now.”
He slid my underwear down my legs. “Yes, we will.”
“Nick,” I said dreamily as he settled between my thighs, his lips planting soft kisses in a line straight south from my belly button. I propped myself up on my elbows. “I like the name Vinnie for a girl.”
He picked up his head and looked at me. “Me too.” Then he put his mouth on me and I forgot everything, even my own name.
#
Finally, we went deliciously, magnificently slow.