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Chapter Four: You Gotta Woo Me


Ashley

The sunlight came in through the giant picture window of our bedroom, reflecting off the ocean outback. I stared out at it as a seagull soared past. Living in this house with Nick was like a fairy tale come to life. I hummed contentedly and leaned back into him. He was just so soft and warm and wonderful. He snuggled into me and pressed his face into the nape of my neck and I could feel his breath on my skin, his arm wrapping around me, holding me close. "Happy Valentine's Day Early," he whispered into my ear.

"Happy Valentine's Day Early," I answered, smiling.

Nick kissed the base of my neck where it met my spine and then I felt him roll away, the mattress flexing as his weight left it. I snuggled into the pillow, feeling lonely now that he was gone, but thankful it was only to the adjoined bathroom. I listened to the roaring of the waves outside as I waited for him to come back. The toilet flushed, and the faucet ran. I could hear him brushing his teeth. When the bathroom door opened again, the bed bounced under his weight as he climbed into bed with enthusiasm.

"Okay baby," he said with energy in his voice - far more than I had yet that early in the morning, "Let's do this." He grinned and pulled off the tank top he'd slept in.

I raised my eyebrow and stared up at him. "You think we're gonna just wake up and fluff?" I asked.

"Well, it is sex day," he said.

"Uh-uh mister," I said, "I don't just put out, you gotta woo me."

He paused, chewing on his lip. "Is that slang for... you know..." he wiggled his tongue at me suggestively.

I snorted. "You wish, sir."

Nick grinned, a dirty sort of smirk playing on his face. He looked like an impish little boy. "No, darlin'," he said in a low, sultry voice that sent shivers down my spine, "I think you wish."

I'm not gonna lie. I came extremely close to giving in right there, with him doing nothing but giving the suggestion. Because yes, I did wish. Everyone thinks the guys are the sex crazy mammals, and yeah in Nick's case he's a total fricking horn-dog, but little known fact is that when it comes to sex with Nick, I'm a horn-doggette. Or a horn-dogface, maybe. So I stared into his eyes, my body saying yes, my brain saying no. Stay strong, Vagina! my heart shrieked, We can fluff his brains out later today, no worries.

"Get dressed, pig," I said, laughing and pushing his face away.

"Okay, okay," he caved, "I figured it wouldn't hurt to give it a whirl... but I do have actual plans." Nick's brilliantly blue eyes sparkled with an air of mystery. "So, you should wear that purple dress of yours and meet me down stairs." He winked.

I winked back because I knew what was gonna be under the purple dress.




Nick

The thing about plans - and I swear this is how the universe and God and stuff like planned this to be - is that you make'em but they very, very rarely actually happen the way you make'em.

At least not in my experience.

I stood in the kitchen and packed the subs and drinks I'd bought the day before into a cooler bag, and brought them out to the car, where I'd hidden a bottle of sparkling grape juice (because of all the pregnant-ness, I couldn't do champagne) and a tray of chocolate covered strawberries. Ashley was gonna be mind-fucked, I thought to myself as I wrapped the seat buckle around the cooler to hold it into place. Completely mind-fucked. I'd invested a lot of time into planning this for once and it showed.

My track record for holidays wasn't the best. I've always either completely forgotten her altogether or given her some stupid piece of crap at the last moment - like the little jar of beach sand from Miami that I'd given her the Christmas before the plane crash, which she still wore around her neck. I ran my fingers over the little velvet box in my pocket, which contained a new necklace, something I hoped she'd replace the bottle of sand with. Every time I looked at that little bottle of sad, I felt like I'd let her down all over again.

There was no way in hell I was gonna screw up this holiday, our first together as a married couple. No way.

When I went back in the house, Ashley was just coming down the stairs, her body perfectly wrapped in that purple dress of hers. Well maybe a little less than perfectly - it was tight across her belly, but not so much so that she couldn't zip it up. She'd put her hair up and dusted powder across her eye lids that made 'em all purpley and sexy. I smiled as she drifted down the last couple steps, digging through a little white purse that hung from her shoulder, a sweater hanging over her arm.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the entire world, I just know it," I told her.

Ashley laughed. "You, sir, are entirely biased."

I shook my head, "Not really. No. I just have these two holes in my head called eyes."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "I can tell you're buttering me up for sex." Even though her voice lilted with annoyance, I could tell she was actually really humored because her giggle was in her eye-twinkle. "You'd think it wasn't guaranteed already."

"Is it?" I asked, "Guaranteed?"

Ashley shook her head, "Nothing in life is."

"True," I replied. "But on a scale of one to ten, how close to guaranteed is it?"

She mused a moment, rubbed her chin. "Mmm.. on a scale of one to ten?"

"Yeah," I said, "One being I'm more likely to catch a cold on the sun, ten being I might as well count myself fluffed already."

Ashley grinned wickedly, "Twelve."

I groaned with excitement. "Why do I gotta wait again?"

"Because you need to woo me."

"Let the woo-ing begin then, my dear." I waved the way to the door.

Ashley laughed, "So we're going somewhere?"

"Mmhm," I nodded.

She grinned, "Very fancy."

"Just one thing before we go."

"Yeah?"

I leaned close, looking right into Ashley's eyes, trying desperately to bring the memory to her mind. "I'm going to give you the best date ever."

Ashley's cheeks flushed and she stared up into my eyes.

If her heart was pounding as hard as mine, then we were practically a bass line, blending together in a symphony...