news with her friends. The news that she and Mason had secretly spent this morning applying for a marriage license...
“At least we have our road trip to look forward to,” Marnie drawled, the blonde’s every word infused with a hint of the South. “But, Reese, we never would have forgiven you if you hadn’t made it back for tonight’s last hurrah in the house.”
“Though we do understand why you’ve been so busy with that gorgeous Marine of yours,” Gina said with a shrewd smile.
A familiar feeling settled low in Reese’s stomach—a funny combination of heat and expectant anticipation that left her heart trying to outdo its previous record. Every time Mason crossed her mind, which was pretty much every 2.5 seconds, that same sensation rolled through her chest. Making her feel happy and hopeful and hungry to hold him again. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“Look at her,” Gina went on, her British accent infused with delight. “She’s positively glowing.”
Pleased her happiness showed, Reese opened her mouth to blurt out her secret, but Marnie spoke first.
“If you ask me, I think y’all are getting too hot and heavy too fast, honey,” Marnie said.
The words pricked Reese’s happy bubble, and she snapped her lips shut.
Gina shot Marnie an overly tolerant look. “Most women aren’t saving themselves for marriage.”
Marnie tucked her hair behind her ear. “There is nothing wrong with saving yourself for marriage.”
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it,” Gina said before lifting a brow dryly. “But there’s plenty that isn’t right.”
With a sigh, Reese listened as they continued the year-old argument. Sweet, Southern, fair-headed Marnie versus cynical, sexy, dark-headed Gina. And then there was plain, practical Cassie, the Australian astronomy student who was too intelligent, too engrossed in trying to discover the secrets of the cosmos to let a mere man occupy any of her time.
Tell them, Reese. Just tell them you’re getting married in a few days.
Maybe she should spring the news gently. Ease them into the idea.
Bracing for the response, hoping for the best, Reese tested the waters. “Mason is The One.”
Of that she was quite sure.
A stunned silence was followed by a chorus of groans, but she refused to cringe at the naive-sounding statement.
“Oh puh-lease, pass the puke bucket.” Gina rolled her eyes in her trademark way. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, Reese,” she said. “You don’t actually believe those chick flicks you like to watch, do you?”
Reese fought to keep her disappointment from showing. Of the three women, Reese had thought Gina, at least, would offer support.
“There’s no way you could have fallen in love with him at first sight. Lust definitely,” Gina went on. “But not love.”
Reese twirled the stem of her empty champagne flute, her voice soft. “But I did.”
Ever the sensible one, Cassie, stared at her, her Aussie accent thick. “But how much can you know about each other after only one week?”
With a frustrated frown, Reese tucked her feet under her legs. She knew it didn’t make sense. She knew it was crazy.
But eight days ago she’d settled on the bar stool next to Mason in that mom-and-pop diner in Brooklyn and been instantly transfixed. Not by the chiseled chest and arms, the handsome face, or the brown hair with the adorable cowlick. She blamed the beautiful hazel gaze lit with mischief and cocky arrogance. Radiating confidence. One look and she’d just...known.
Her heart had checked out and there was no hope for a return.
It didn’t matter who he was or what he did for a living. It didn’t matter that her parents would hate him for...well, everything. Daring to be from a run-down neighborhood in New Jersey. Daring to be a lowly grunt in the Marines. And daring to steal the heart of the daughter they’d slotted for the perfect match since infancy, like some ridiculous children’s princess movie.
“In a world with billions of people,” Cassie went on with a logical tone, “meeting The One is a statistical improbability.”
“I have to agree with the supergeek here,” Gina said with a tip of her head toward Cassie. “You’ve met one of The Many, Reese. Mason is a hottie, but you’ve simply fallen victim to your libido. Still—” Gina smiled, clearly oblivious to Reese’s sinking heart “—I say enjoy the shagging while it lasts.”
Needing a moment to regroup, hoping to figure out how to share her news, Reese stood and picked up the empty champagne bottle. “You have sex on the brain, Gina,” she said as she headed for the kitchen.
“Exactly,” Gina called after her. “So when you come back, we want details.”
Heat flushed up Reese’s face as the back door closed behind her, because the details would be juicy indeed. She certainly was enjoying every moment she spent in Mason’s bed, but their relationship was so much more than physical. Because Mason had changed her for the better.
Her nineteenth-century history professor didn’t intimidate her anymore, her mother’s overbearing phone calls were easier to endure and her future felt bright, instead of daunting.
Reese pulled a bottle of champagne from the stainless steel refrigerator and tossed a popcorn bag into the microwave, turning it on. As the popping sounds slowly increased in frequency, she chewed on her lower lip, remembering their scoffing reaction to her claim that Mason was The One.
Their insistence she was blinded by great sex.
So, okay, maybe it had been difficult leaving Mason’s bed early this morning for the long commute back to Hillbrook. Especially after he’d sneaked up behind her, slipping those muscular arms around her hips. As soon as he’d pulled her against that well-honed, boot-camp trained body, she’d been a goner. The tiny kitchen in his New Jersey hole-in-the-wall apartment barely contained room enough to think. But Reese didn’t care, because it was Mason’s. He’d slid those calloused fingers around her waist, one hard hand heading north, and the other south....
Instantly compliant, she’d arched her back and given herself over to his plans, her history final the furthest thing from her mind. The fiercely intense way he took her left her both shattered and reborn. Every single time. And so high on life, on love, if she sold the emotion on the steps of the UN building, world peace would be all but secured. So when Mason had asked her to marry him, she’d said yes.
Marrying Mason would be the easy part.
Telling her family and friends would be hard.
The scent of scorched popcorn brought her back to the present, and she rescued the bag, dumping the contents into a bowl. One arm around the container, she grabbed the champagne and headed out the back door. As she stepped out onto the deck overlooking the beautiful yard, the men’s track team now gathering on the field beyond, she caught the end of Marnie’s statement.
“It’s going to be a gorgeous wedding,” the blonde drawled.
