She sucked in a breath and I ran my fingers through her hair, whispering again. “I go through withdrawal every time we go our separate ways because being without you for one second is damn near unbearable. So, if I’m being completely fucking honest about what you’re asking me to do—I can’t.”

There was a thick silence hanging in the air between us, and before she opened her mouth to break it, I knew exactly what she was going to say.

“It would make me happy if you would do this for me—if you would at least try... I’ve been thinking about it for a while and it’s something I really want us to do...”

“Claire...” I shook my head and sighed, wishing I could find the asshole who’d filled her head with this nonsense. “If I agree to this, if I fully commit to this absolutely ridiculous idea, I want you to know that I will not give in until after we’re married.”

“I’m so very honored.”

“No matter how much you beg—and you will beg because I know you better than you know yourself, I will not have sex with you until after we’ve said I do.”

“Thank you very much.” She smiled and kissed me, and I had to prevent myself from pulling her into my lap.

“Since we’re going to have a pretty boring afternoon...” I picked a silver box up from the nightstand and handed it to her. “You didn’t get a chance to open your anniversary present yesterday.”

“You didn’t get the rest of yours either.” She pointed to a strange white patch on her left foot. “Peel this off.”

I raised my eyebrow and slowly peeled back two layers of gauze and tape. There was nothing underneath it, nothing but—I stopped.

“I had my freedom date tattoo removed. I’ve been getting pieces of it etched away for months...” she whispered. “I don’t want any part of my past in our future...”

I looked at her bare foot, running my fingers against where her divorce date used to be. Then I looked into her eyes, not saying anything—hoping she could simply see how much that meant to me.

Sighing, I pulled her closer. “Open the box.”

She smiled and gently pulled at the silver ribbon, purposely taking her time. Then she popped the top off and read the small handwritten note aloud: “I loved you the first time I saw you, I loved you the first time I met you, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life—Jonathan...”

She ran her finger against those words a few more times, and gasped as she pulled the sparkling silver necklace out of the box.

I’d thought long and hard about what to get her for our first anniversary since we’d come so far from where we used to be: She no longer questioned our age difference or had any hesitation about other people knowing she was mine. In fact, she was the happiest I’d ever seen her and she talked about our “forever” more than I did.

“How much did you pay for this?” she whispered.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re more than worth it.” I took the necklace from her hands—a glittering diamond strand with an infiniti charm and the word “love” etched within its loops. “I’m adding the same charm to your other necklace next week. I want to add a new one to it every year.”

She smiled, and then she shook her head. “I never said it back that day, Jonathan...Why is this our anniversary when I never said it back?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The first day you told me that you loved me last year—when we were in the Jacuzzi together, I never said ‘I love you’ back...I didn’t tell you until months later at that conference...”

I sighed and pulled her close. “You said it in your sleep that night. More than once...You say it in your sleep now...”

She blushed.

“Where are your friends taking you for your bachelorette party? Is there a reason I didn’t get an invite?”

“Because you’re not invited.” She laughed. “They haven’t told me where, but I’m pretty sure we’re going to Vegas. Helen keeps talking about getting lucky. Where’s yours?”

“Vegas.”

“That doesn’t mean you’ll be seeing me while you’re there.”

“I’m pretty sure it does.” I smiled. “How long will you be gone?”

“A week. I have to meet them at the airport tonight.”

“You’re flying on a commercial plane? With other passengers that you don’t know?”

She nodded.

“Interesting.” I pushed her down onto the bed. “Well, since we can’t have sex anymore, there’s one thing I need to do to you before you leave...”

Chapter 10

Claire

I was sitting in the back of the town car, smiling and running my fingers across my newest necklace. All I could think about was last night—the way Jonathan looked at me while I was dancing, the way he kissed me once I was finished.

“Is there a reason you’ve been holding that smile for half an hour?” Helen raised her eyebrow.

“What smile?”

“The ‘I’ve been thoroughly-well-fucked’ smile.” She rolled her eyes. “I know it all too well. And are those fucking hickeys?” She leaned over and touched the bright red marks on my neck.

“Hickeys?”

“That asshole marked you on purpose didn’t he? Because you’re going away for a week and he wants every man to know you’re unavailable, right? He’s so ridiculous!”

I laughed and looked out the window as we approached the airstrip—reading the huge pink banner that was draped across the entryway of the plane: “Claire’s Last Weekend of Freedom”

Helen told me that she’d originally bought first class tickets for the flight, but Jonathan had called her hours ago and insisted that we use his jet.

“Do you have your passport, Claire?” Helen looked at me as Greg opened the backdoor.

“Why would I need my passport?”

“Because we’re going out of the country and you need a passport to get in and out of the states. Please tell me you have it.”

“Out of the country? I thought we were going to Vegas.”

“Vegas? Seriously, Claire? I went there last year—been there, done that. We’re going to Costa Rica!”

“What?!”

“Why do you think I’ve been making such a huge deal about this? I want you to experience ultimate bliss. Let’s go.” She tugged me towards the plane.

“But I told Jonathan we were going to Vegas.”

“You’re not supposed to tell Jonathan anything. This is a bachelorette party, Claire. Whatever happens in Costa Rica, stays in Costa Rica—unless he has an American VISA and I want to bring him back for a week or two.” She winked and gestured for me to get on the plane.

I stepped aboard and took a deep breath, squeezing my way past two carts of alcohol. On the very first seat was a huge bouquet of white lilies and a card:

Dear Future Wife & Exotic Dancer,

I’m not thrilled about the next few weeks of torture, but I do hope that you enjoy your bachelorette party. (Just not too much.) I’ll be in the penthouse suite at Caesar’s Palace in Vegas this week if you need anything.

Your Future Husband & Awed Fan,

Jonathan

PS—I love you.

I smiled and noticed that there was something else in the envelope—a small packet with four red pills and another note: “To help you sleep on the way there and back—Jonathan”

“Welcome aboard, ladies!” I heard Helen say as high pitched laughter filled the cabin.

I turned around and found myself face to face with Helen’s other set of best friends—Kimberly and Bobbie Jo. They looked like they’d stepped right out of a magazine—perfect makeup and hair as usual, which was fitting since they were both former supermodels.

She’d met the two of them years before she met me, and she always bragged about how she helped them to sue Maybelline for millions of dollars.

I still remembered the first time I’d met them, the time they dared me to do a body shot with a complete stranger and encouraged me to “gently brush up against his dick...just to see if it’s as big as it looks...” They’d claimed that that was step one to getting over Ryan, step one in showing him who was better off.