Craving Resurrection
Page 42

“Ye look beautiful, wife.” Patrick said after minutes of absolute silence in the car. “I’ve never seen anyt’in’ lovelier.”
“You’re not too bad yourself.”
He made a sound of disgust. “Dis fuckin’ suit is makin’ me sweat like ye would not believe.”
“I noticed,” I replied with a small laugh.
“Ye did?”
“Even your face was sweating!”
“Do ye t’ink anyone else saw it?”
“Only Kevie.”
“Well, dat’s alright den.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because I felt like a fuckin’ idiot up dere, sweatin’ like a pig.”
“Well, you didn’t look like an idiot.”
“Good t’ing no one was lookin’ at me once ye arrived,” he teased.
I smiled at him happily as he watched the road, and I couldn’t believe my incredible luck. We were almost to Peg’s when Patrick turned onto a street that was vaguely familiar. When he stopped the car and put it in park, I looked at him in surprise.
“Were you hoping for a game of basketball? I’m sorry, I didn’t bring one with me. Couldn’t fit it under the dress.”
“If ye were tryin’ to hide a basketball under yer dress we’d have quite a bit of explainin’ to do,” he answered, laughing as he pulled at his tie. “Christ, I can’t get dis fuckin’ button undone. It’s too tight.”
“Here, I’ll do it,” I offered, leaning toward him to slip my fingers underneath the fabric below his Adam’s apple. “Good Lord, how could you even breathe?”
“Don’t t’ink I took a breath until I saw ye.”
“Aw.”
“Shut it.”
I wrestled with the button for a minute before it broke free, then ran my fingers over his poor neck. There were indentations where the collar had pinched at his flesh.
“Why the hell did you button it if it was so tight?” I scolded.
“Married less den an hour and she’s already naggin’.”
“We’re married,” I whispered, my lips curving into a grin.
“We are.”
He lifted his hands to grip my head and then his lips were on mine. I moaned as he slid his tongue into my mouth, then relaxed my neck until he was completely supporting the weight of my head in his hands.
“I wanted to do dis de first second I saw ye,” he said as he ran his lips across my jaw. “Standin’ next to ye and not bein’ able to touch ye was torture.”
“I know, the ceremony went on forever,” I complained.
“But de end was wort’ it.”
“You’re mine now.”
“Not yet.” He chuckled darkly. “But later I will be.”
I shuddered as his lips sucked gently on my neck. My nipples pebbled beneath my gown and I felt myself grow wet, the sensation reminding me of the mishap in the shower earlier.
“We have to get back to your mom’s,” I reminded him breathlessly as he worked his way back toward my mouth. “Everyone’s waiting.” His mouth met mine again, the kiss slow and surprisingly gentle, before pulling away.
“Why do dey have a party after de weddin’? Seems like an awful way to start married life, surrounded by people ye have to entertain instead of fuckin’ like rabbits.”
“You’re so romantic.”
“I am romantic,” he replied immediately, offended. “I write ye fuckin’ love notes.”
“Oh, is that what they were?” I teased as he turned the car back on and backed out of the empty lot.
“Yes, dat’s what dey were. I wrote ye poems!”
“You copied other people’s poems.”
“I’m a scholar, not a writer. Ye’d not want any poems I’d attempted to write.”
“Oh, so you’ve tried before? Did you send other girls your poor attempts at poetry?”
The guests had been kind enough to leave an empty space to park right in front of the house, and after Patrick had pulled in and parked, he turned to me, his expression serious.
“I’ve not written anyone letters but me mum. Ever. Except ye.”
“Why not?” I called as he climbed out of the car without another word, moving to my door to help me climb out.
“Because dey weren’t de woman I was goin’ to marry,” he answered, then kissed me quickly, sliding his tongue against mine only once before grabbing my hand. “Now let’s go celebrate for a while, so we can leave and celebrate on our own later.”
The reception was fun, even though I was anxious to get Patrick alone. Peg grabbed me as we’d walked through the door, and spent hours introducing me to everyone who’d come to see us, from the couple who owned the grocery store Peg managed, to neighbors who’d moved away years previously. It was odd seeing Peg and Patrick interact comfortably with so many people, and it reminded me of how isolated we’d been.
Patrick took off to the corner of the yard as soon as Peg pulled me away, and he met my eyes a few times as I mingled, but we didn’t have the chance to connect more than that. There were so many people in Peg’s house and back yard that it was hard to even move from one place to another without having to stop and chat.
When I finally made my way back to him, I hesitated a few feet away. It was like looking at a person I’d never seen before.