Limelight Love Story

24. I Love My Wife

As Lucy began packing, Tim came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her to stop her. "I'll throw everything in your suitcase at the last possible minute," he promised low in her ear.

"We have to leave soon," she said.

"You were the one that told me jets could wait for us."

"Last night, you said you were looking forward to being home."

He clarified, "I said I was looking forward to taking a shower with you at home. Why are Italian showers so small?" Her giggle in response vibrated through both of them.

"You've been insatiable lately." She was not at all complaining, but she felt it necessary to point that out.

"I'm following the plan. We said we had to lay low until this media storm blows over, and it hasn't," he replied as he nuzzled her neck. "The paparazzi were a little aggressive last night when we were leaving the stadium."

She shut her eyes and leaned her back more heavily against his front. "I wasn't scared. I had my big, strong hockey husband protecting me."

"Your husband doesn't think we've really accomplished the goal we set for our time in this hotel room."

"What goal?"

"To find out which bed we like better. I say we try them all again before we check out."

"Like I said. Insatiable. What has gotten into you?" Lucy turned around in his arms to look at him.

"Nothing."

"It's something," she could sense. "You like that I released the album, don't you?" She presumed.

"Angela texted and said it's gotten a lot of positive reviews," he responded sheepishly.

"Our album has been a smashing success," she agreed as she ruffled his messy hair. "How long can I expect you to be this happy about the release?"

"I don't know. I've never had anyone write nineteen songs for me," he explained with a grin then bent down to cover her mouth with his.

"Way more than nineteen now. I've written a few over the weekend."

"A guitar in the bedroom really helped. I loved being part of the creative process."

"You were not very helpful. I can't sing when you're kissing me."

"I didn't hear you complaining," he said smugly as he hiked up his t shirt that was hanging off her frame. His fingers skimmed up her thighs then her sides. "Would you complain right now, Mrs. Bradford?"

"Depends, Mr. Bradford. What do you wanna do right now?" She asked coyly.

"Pick a bed in this suite, and you'll see," Tim murmured against her lips.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"The couches are old and squeaky."

"I'm thinking about our flight," she studied his expression, but he did not understand her meaning. "On our jet." Still nothing. "Alone."

His mouth formed an "o" in understanding. "Right. The jet. It's on our list."

"I promised you one time we wouldn't have anyone on the flight with us, so no one could interrupt us."

"Can't believe my teammates actually have to use the bathroom when I'm in there with you," Tim grumbled.

"Your teammates can't control their bladders."

"Only you could make bladders sound sexy."

"Anything I say will sound sexy to you while you're in this mood."