CHAPTER 20

"This thing is a pain in the ass, Spence. How did we not think to look at this before?" Hanna demanded incredulously through several large safety pins sticking out of her mouth, holding the train of Spencer's dress precariously in the air.

"Seriously, it's like the world's hardest puzzle," Aria agreed. She was reconfiguring the bustle to work more to their liking, as it had not been designed in a logical fashion.

"All I know is my first dance is coming up any minute now, and this skirt needs to be out of my way," Spencer snapped impatiently. "I can't believe they didn't explain how to do this…"

"It's supposed to have ties on each end," Hanna argued impatiently. "I've seen a million of them on that show Bridezillas. But there are just so many extra pieces of fabric that don't have anywhere to go."

"Just try to pin it, then," Aria offered helpfully.

Hanna rolled her eyes and 'tutted' pretentiously. "It'll tear the tulle, Aria."

"I have an idea," Emily announced with a heavy sigh, rising to her feet. "I'm just going to get your mother."

Spencer winced in slight at the thought of her mother's entrance: she'd strut in, clicking her tongue and rolling her eyes, and would make Spencer feel like an idiot for not understanding the bustle. As much as she loved her mother, it was her own special way of guiding Spencer through the unknown: by making it obvious that Spencer was incompetent without her help. But at any rate, she was the only one who would probably understand how to manage it.

Instead, Emily returned with Melissa, who was looking particularly harried.

"What's the matter?"

"I can't figure the bustle out," Spencer whined, feeling entirely juvenile at her desperation. "The train is supposed to be tied up, and we can't get the ties to match correctly, and – "

"Move," Melissa commanded, batting Aria and Hanna out of her way. She expertly started at the bottom of the train, folding it upwards delicately. Spencer watched over her shoulder as she did so, silently grateful that Melissa's technique was already beginning to look far more practical than Hanna's solution of trying to bunch it up at her hip.

"These ties," Melissa began, referring to two magically-appearing satin strings in the fold, "attach here." To demonstrate, she completed the process with a very brief flick of her wrists. In an instant, the train was up and out of Spencer's way, and it looked far more refined than Hanna's haphazard attempt.

"I don't even know where you found those," Hanna scoffed indignantly. "I've been looking forever."

"They're imbedded in the folds of the train," Melissa explained with equal superiority. She fluffed out the skirting once more to alleviate any flattening that had occurred. "There. All set."

"Thank you," Spencer said with a sigh of relief. Despite the fact that Melissa's demonstration had been bossy as well, it was nothing compared to the lecture her mother would have given her.

"Now get out there," Melissa commanded, giving Spencer a gentle push through the bathroom door. "It's almost time for your dance."

Upon re-emerging into the reception hall, Spencer gazed around once more. When her mother and Melissa had insisted that they would take care of the decorations to Spencer's liking, they had certainly not been lying. The room was beautifully adorned with white tulle and rope lighting, red rose centerpieces, and candlelit ambiance. The appearance of it all was exquisite.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the DJ began, quieting the crowd. "I am now happy to present the new Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh, sharing their first dance to 'You're Still The One' by Shania Twain!"

The crowd burst into applause. Spencer hastened towards the dance floor, where Toby was already waiting. Unable to suppress a grin as she approached him, she entered instantly into his arms. The opening notes to their song began to travel through the speakers around them. He took one of her hands in his and rested it against his chest, looping the other around her waist.

"Is it possible that you look even more beautiful now than you did fifteen minutes ago?" Toby whispered to her as he began to lead their dance. She beamed up at him.

"Mr. Cavanaugh, are you attempting to seduce me?" she joked in undertones.

Toby flicked his eyebrows at her flirtatiously, lowering his lips to her ear. He purposely grazed them across her earlobe, causing her to shudder involuntarily, before speaking. "This is nothing compared to what I have in store for later."

A sudden batch of butterflies were released somewhere in the depths of her stomach at the sound of the huskiness in his voice. It had only been two weeks since they had made love, but it seemed like ages. "And what might that be?"

"Well, Mrs. Cavanaugh," he continued, pausing to dip her briefly. He pulled her back into his chest and replaced his mouth to her ear. "I fully intend on starting with a romantic bubble bath, during which you may receive a full massage…I plan to explore every inch of your body with my fingertips." As if to prove his point, he ran his hand gently up and down her spine. It would appear innocent enough to the onlookers, but the dangerous words that were attached indicated much more devilish intentions. "As for what comes after…well…we need to leave something to the imagination, don't we?"

If not for the hundred-something pairs of eyes on them, Spencer could have easily removed his clothes then and there. It would take all of her power and strength to actually enjoy the remainder of the reception with such a clear picture of what was to come in the honeymoon suite.

She stuttered on her words, striving through her speechlessness to appear equally as seductive as he. "I think something of that nature can be arranged…"

"Hmm," he chuckled into her hairline. "We both know that there's no use in playing hard-to-get, Spence."

She blushed slightly, knowing, of course, that he was completely right.

"This is supposed to be the greatest day of our lives," he whispered quietly, swaying around so that she was facing the wedding cake. "And I plan to do my best to show you the most romantic wedding night to go with it."

She craned her neck back to look him in the eyes, smiling softly in his direction. "I love you so much."

He returned the gesture, lowering his mouth to hers in a brief kiss. "I love you too."

The song came to an end, and the guests erupted in applause. Spencer swore that she even saw her mother wiping away a phantom tear from her cheek. Toby took her by the hand and began to escort her back to the bridal table.

"I'm telling you – I don't know where they went – but he asked if he could talk to her," Emily was insisting hurriedly to Holmes, who looked nearly ready to jump out of his skin.

"What? What is it?" Toby demanded as they walked up behind them. He put a protective hand on Holmes's shoulder to calm him.

Emily sighed heavily. "Caleb. He asked if he could talk to Hanna, in private."

"I step away for two seconds to get her a glass of champagne, and he swoops in," Holmes growled, his jaw clenched. "I knew he was going to try something."

Toby exhaled loudly, taking Holmes by the elbow. "All right, all right. Let's find them."

Spencer had to practically run after them to keep up with their long strides, following them through the backdoor and onto the smoking patio. As much as she respected Hanna's wishes to settle things with Caleb once and for all, she sincerely hoped that was all that she planned to do…because by the look on Holmes's face, any other intentions would be met with hand-to-hand combat.

And there they were, seated at a picnic table beneath the canopy, engaged in a heated discussion. Holmes looked nearly ready to spit fire.

"What are you doing?" he demanded to Caleb as they approached. Toby put a gentle hand in front of Spencer to prevent her from going any closer to the altercation.

Caleb looked up at Holmes, perplexed, trying to make sense of the new pieces of the equation. "Look, I'm not trying to start anything…"

"It's too late for that," Holmes interrupted. He took a step in front of Caleb, trying to appear as menacing as possible. Hanna stood abruptly.

"He just wanted to talk," Hanna insisted nervously. "About why we broke up. Neither of us ever really got the closure, you know?" she added. "We just needed to clear the air. That's all. Okay?"

Holmes still looked uncertain, but Hanna had inserted herself between him and Caleb, resting a gentle hand on his chest. "I promise, Derek," she proceeded. "We had some things to hash out, but it's done."

"She's right," Caleb agreed. He, too, stood up, straightening his suit coat gracefully. "I can't say that I'm too happy about the way things turned out, after everything we had talked about when you moved in together…" Holmes noticeably tensed a bit at this. "But in the end, all I want is for Hanna to be happy."

Hanna turned to him, a slightly sad smile grazing her face. "Thanks, Caleb," she said quietly. "I hope things have been good for you at UCLA."

Caleb nodded curtly. "Going as smoothly as college can, anyway."

She laughed politely. Caleb cleared his throat.

"Take care, Han," he offered. And with that, he had quickly ducked around the group to return to the reception.

Holmes was looking slightly less aggravated, but still appeared to silently be making sense of all that he had heard. Hanna was looking at him pleadingly, a silent conversation taking place.

"You good?" Toby asked simply. Holmes nodded.

"I'm fine."

Toby clapped a supportive hand on his shoulder, leading Spencer back into the building. She, too, was trying to piece together the situation.

"I've been so busy that I sort of forgot Caleb was coming," she admitted sheepishly. "I can't believe I didn't think about the trouble that would cause…"

"It's done," Toby declared, curling an arm around her waist. "The worst of it just happened, I think. Hopefully it will be smooth sailing for the rest of the evening."

Spencer smiled up at him, leaning her head onto his shoulder. "It will be."

Hanna sat at the bridal table in solitude, sipping at her champagne. She was on her fourth glass now and was beginning to feel a tingling in her toes. It wasn't likely to be enough, however, to make her forget the way that Holmes had reacted. She was furious with him for jumping to conclusions about Caleb. How could he assert his dominance into a situation that he hardly understood? Especially when she and Caleb dated for far longer than she and Holmes had even known each other? It didn't seem fair or justified. He reacted like a caveman.

And to make things worse, had implied that he didn't trust her.

Funny – he didn't seem to think about her trust credibility when he was falling in love with her while she was still spoken for. Asshole.

And he hadn't even had the decency to show his face back at the table since she had left him outside without any additional explanation. Spencer and Toby had left them to talk, and she was quick on their heels. He was still being a stubborn child and didn't want to hear her side of things.

Aria returned to her seat beside Hanna, fanning herself laboriously. She was flushed from dancing, a wide grin on her face. "Hey, what's the matter with you?" she inquired.

"Boys can all go to hell," Hanna muttered disdainfully, taking another swig of her champagne. Aria laughed.

"Brutal," she stated. "What did he do now?"

"Was his usual, narrow-minded, protective self."

"Ah," Aria mused, smirking slightly. Hanna turned her nose up at this expression.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Well," Aria began, taking a sip of her own wine. "Personally, I find nothing sexier than a man who's willing to fight for you."

This comment felt akin to a slap in the face. Hanna stammered incoherently, unable to formulate a defense. Aria was already on her feet once more.

"If you're wondering where he is, I saw him go in the men's room a while ago." With that, she was gone.

Hanna silently turned this over in her mind. Yeah, well…maybe it was kind of hot the way that Holmes had stormed up to Caleb…but at the same time, there was absolutely nothing to be jealous about. He was just being unreasonable.

Before she knew it, she had downed the remainder of her glass and was stomping towards the men's room. If he needed time to cool off, that was too damn bad. She had a bone to pick with him about minding his own business.

She walked in, paying no heed to the older gentleman that confusedly passed her on his way out. There stood Holmes, hovering over the counter, alarmed at her appearance in the reflection of the mirror.

"Hanna?"

She ignored him and did a quick once-over of the stalls. Nobody else was in there with them. She flipped the lock shut on the door and wheeled around to face him.

"What the hell is your problem?" she demanded, folding her arms. "What gives you the right to just waltz up to me, in a private conversation, and put your nose where it doesn't belong?"

Holmes winced, but squared his jaw in preparation for defense. "I just wanted to make sure he wasn't going to try something with you."

"Like what?" Hanna spat indignantly, raising a challenging eyebrow at him. "What could he have possibly tried to do?"

"I don't know," Holmes shouted impatiently. "Try to get you back? Kiss you? Tell you he still loves you?" He was visibly clenching his fists at the very notion. "All I know is that I didn't like the thought of that…one bit."

Hanna softened in slight at this piece of explanation, taking a hesitant step towards him. "So…you just wanted to make sure I didn't want him back?"

"Yeah, I guess," Holmes muttered, staring idly at the floor. "I'm sorry if I was a jealous douchebag, but I can't help it with you. You're gorgeous, Hanna. You're always going to have guys looking at you. And I just want to make sure I'm the only one you're looking back at."

Hanna was only a few inches away from him now, lifting his chin with her hand so that he was looking into her eyes. Her heart was fluttering wildly as she asked her next question.

"What if he tried to kiss me?" she ventured. "What would you have done?"

"I would have taken him by his goddamn shirt collar and put him to the ground," Holmes said without hesitation. "The idea of anybody else being that close to you makes me crazy."

"Hmm," Hanna mused, sidling up even closer to him. A fire was lighting rapidly in her belly at the arousal she felt from his possessiveness. She had been so infuriated before…but the more he talked about it, the more she wanted him. In some twisted way, Aria was right. "Then what?"

Holmes arched an eyebrow at her, puzzled, but continued. "I would have told him to keep his damn hands off you. That he blew his chance to have them on you a long time ago. And, well, it's my turn now."

Hanna grinned mischievously. "And where do your hands go?"

Holmes recoiled, taken aback. "What?"

She roughly grabbed him by the wrists and pushed his hands onto her breasts. "You're saying that your hands are the only ones allowed to do this, right?"

He was staring at her now, attempting to mitigate some other internal struggle. He curled his hands down to her hips, guiding her closer to him.

"Damn straight," he murmured in agreement.

She trailed her fingertips down the length of his tie, grazing the buttons of his dress shirt. Her mouth hovered at the curve of his jaw, planting gentle kisses. He exhaled with difficulty. She took a step back from him, slowly sliding her arms from the sleeves of her scarlet dress. He watched in anticipation as she wriggled it past her hips and let it drop to the floor, standing before him in only a form-fitting strapless bra and a g-string.

"Hanna…" he started slowly, as if prepped for debating the issue. She silenced him by diving at his mouth, pressing her lips hungrily to his. Any resolve he may have had died almost immediately as he greedily kissed back, his hands roving over the curvature of her buttocks. He bodily lifted her onto the bathroom counter, trailing kisses from her neck to her ample cleavage. Then, all of a sudden, he pulled back for a moment to look at her.

"What if there are security cameras?" he murmured, glancing upward around the set of mirrors. Hanna grinned.

"Then I guess someone's getting a free show."

He laughed, despite the fact that he normally would have argued tooth and nail over an issue such as this. "I love you."

"I love you too," Hanna replied. She grabbed his face and pulled him back into her, succumbing to the urges that had been plaguing her for months.

The night flew by far faster than Spencer had anticipated. She had always heard that it was important to savor every moment of your wedding day, for it goes by in the blink of an eye. This was sadly the case, indeed. Before she knew it, she and Toby were being bidden farewell from the reception hall with an onslaught of bubbles and applause. And she most certainly did not miss the fact that Hanna's hair was horribly disheveled, a peaceful grin plastered to her face. Toby had tried to go to the restroom earlier only to find it was locked. Spencer had a good idea of why.

Only moments later, she and Toby had arrived on the floor of the honeymoon suite in the very same building. She watched with butterflies in her stomach as he unearthed the key card, sliding it through the door handle. It was almost foolish, really. It wasn't as though they hadn't made love before. But somehow, this was a different ballpark altogether.

The moment they stepped into the room, Toby had pressed her against the door. He kissed her gently but with distinct longing, brushing his fingers along the curves of her hips. She shuddered in slight.

He pulled back to survey her, taking her face in his hands and gazing at her. "You're so beautiful," he murmured softly, leaning in to plant a kiss on the tip of her nose. She smiled at him, curling her fingers around his wrists.

"I think you promised me a bubble bath, Mr. Cavanaugh," she declared. He grinned in reply.

"That I did." He took a step back from her, heading in the direction of the bathroom. "Meet me in five minutes."

She watched him go, her stomach twisting into anxious knots. She felt silly being as nervous as she was, as though it was their first time. As though she may mess something up and disappoint him. She knew deep down that this was terribly unlikely, but the prospect was causing her knees to shake nonetheless.

She approached the bed, admiring the scattered rose petals across the covers. Running her hand along the footboard, she imagined the state of it in an hour's time. Those covers would most assuredly be tossed to the floor, forgotten, the sheets rumpled from the rhythmic movement of their bodies pressed against one another. A sudden tingle appeared behind her navel at the very thought of it.

She stood before the full-length mirror to admire her appearance once more. As the night wore on, her makeup had worn off. The ringlets of her hair had begun to fall flat, back to their original, everyday shape. But nevertheless, she was still amazed at how stunning she still looked. It was hard to digest. She reached around back to untie the corset ribbons, loosening their hold. Though she hadn't realized any sort of trouble before, she found it suddenly much easier to breathe. She delicately pushed the dress down to her feet, stepping out of it and hanging it up with care. There was a moment dedicated to admiring it silently. She would, after all, never wear it again. But it would remain to be her most prized piece of clothing in her possession.

She removed her slip and pantyhose next, until she stood in front of the mirror in her bustiere and white lace panties. With a heavy exhale, she began to head towards the bathroom.

Once inside, she noticed that Toby had kept his word. There were a number of candles aligning the countertop, the lights otherwise having been turned out, and a bathtub full of bubbles. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked upon Toby, who was already in the water waiting for her. The shape of his pectorals and abdominal muscles always made her weak in the knees, and she found herself yearning to see his lower half that was hidden by the bubbles.

They locked eyes, but said nothing. Spencer slowly lowered her hands to her hips, curling her thumbs into the elastic of her panties. She pushed them down until they fell to her feet. She then reached around her back to undo the clasps of her bustiere. With slow, intentional movements, she pulled it away from her body and let it, too, find its way to the floor. Toby merely gazed at her appreciatively as she stripped down before him. Once she was entirely naked, she stepped quietly into the bathtub, sitting so that she was facing him.

"I think you promised me a massage," she whispered. Toby merely smiled in response, reaching into the water to pull at her hips and slide her between his legs. She outstretched hers to curl around his lower back. He slid his wet hands up her spine, winding small circles into her muscles. She exhaled heavily in relief.

"How's that?" he asked quietly. She could only make a nigh inaudible noise in reply. His hands continued their work, making their way around to her front. He gently massaged her breasts with both hands, making her moan softly. She could feel his increasing arousal pressing against her inner thigh, which made giving in all the more difficult to resist.

"I believe I promised, also, to explore every inch of your body," he murmured. He scooted closer so that his groin pressed more directly into hers, causing sparks to shoot through her entire body. He lowered his hands to her knees, beginning a massage pattern from there. He was slowly working his way up, making her ache in anticipation, until he reached the top-most part of her inner thighs. She could feel the proximity to her nether-regions, and she was nearly about to explode. She took him by the back of the neck and pressed her mouth against his, using her tongue to massage his. He sighed softly against her lips, making her shudder once more. She trailed her hands down his chest and towards his lower half, gently grazing his erection with her fingertips. He moaned softly in response.

"I missed this," she whispered. She had had no idea that two mere weeks could be such torture. She wanted him right here and now, moving back and forth inside of her. It took all the willpower she had to continue with the slow and steady foreplay.

"I missed it too," he agreed, trailing kisses from her earlobe down her neck. He paused at her collarbone, being sure to treat her to her favorite spot. He cupped her breast in his hand, brushing his thumb over her nipple. She felt as though she was surely going to die of anticipation. She took hold of him and closed the distance between them, so that she was straddling his hips. She cried out softly as she made him enter her, a million electric currents shooting upward from between her legs. He pressed the back of her neck more desperately, deepening the kiss as they matched one another's rhythmic patterns.

One thing was for damn sure. He had kept good with his promise to make this the most romantic night of her life. She would not soon forget the feeling of completely losing herself in their intimacy, shutting out the rest of the world around them for the remainder of their passionate wedding night.