Eight Days Left
"Did you find a dress?" Patrick asked as they stepped into the sitting room. With just over a week until the wedding, Shelagh had left this last task to the end.
She blushed. "Yes, I did. It's being altered, so I'll pick it up in a few days."
Patrick took her hand. "Good. What's it like?"
"I can't tell you that, Patrick. It's bad luck." She liked the way his hands held hers, his thumbs rubbing over her skin.
He laughed. "I was only teasing, love. I don't want to know. I want to be surprised when I turn and look at you coming down the aisle."
She hesitated. "Patrick, with the wedding so small, I doubt we'll do the whole 'marching down the aisle thing.' I'll go to the altar with you, I expect."
Patrick shook his head. "I have never met a woman so uninterested in the preparation for a wedding, Shelagh. Should I read it as a bad sign? Second thoughts?" he teased.
She closed the small gap between them. "No second thoughts, dearest." Her hand slipped from his and travelled to his jawline, stroking it. "I will be very happy to be your wife." Her thumb moved to his cheek and caressed his temple. His skin was so smooth there, unlike the slight roughness of his cheek. She liked the scratch of his skin, too, she thought. Standing on tiptoe, Shelagh pressed her lips to his. Their kiss was soft, with just a hint of pressure. Gently, their mouths grazed, quietly coming closer together. She could feel tension in his body and knew he was restraining himself. He treated her so tenderly; respectful of the chaste life she had led for so long. Feeling a surge of love and something she couldn't name for this man, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down closer to her. Immediately the moment changed and the kiss intensified. She parted her lips under his and lightly touched the tip of her tongue to the seam of his. With a small groan, he responded, welcoming the gentle invasion. She felt his hands splayed across her back, holding her close to him, his chest hard against hers. Their tongues danced as the kiss grew deeper. Shelagh pushed her fingers into his hair and a small sound came from her throat as she welcomed his exploration.
Patrick could feel his restraint slipping, and knew he would have to end this delightful moment. Soon. But it was so difficult, especially when she was so eager and pliant in his arms. He had been so careful to slowly introduce intimacy between them and the knowledge that she was as eager for him as he was for her was making it very difficult to remain in control. The sofa was just steps away. He could so easily lift her up off the ground and swing her on to it, then cover her body with his.
Abruptly, they pulled away from each other, breathing hard. Reason had somehow regained access to their brains. Just in time, too. The front door slammed shut, and Timothy was home. As he hung up his coat and cap he called from the hallway, "How many days until the wedding?"
They both smiled in relief. "Eight!" they called back together.