Arriving home from work, we pack for our romantic weekend getaway to the seaside cottage I gave him for his birthday. I’m not sure what to pack, so I pack everything. And then some. Once I’m done, I drag my massively overstuffed luggage to the living room.
Aiden’s eyes widen. “Are you sure you’re going to need all that?”
“I figured it was better to have something and not need it than need something and not have it,” I say with a shrug.
Getting up, he walks over to my luggage and lifts it. “This weighs a ton, Jeni.”
I shrug again, and he chuckles. “If you’re ready, we should hit the road.” Grabbing both bags, we head to the Aston Martin. After he strategically loads everything, we settle in for the drive, and he turns on the radio. Bon Jovi’s “Thank You for Loving Me” is playing.
I turn the volume up, and he looks at me with a smirk. “This should be our song.”
He lets out a small laugh. “You want this song?”
“Hell, yeah. The lyrics are beautiful.”
“You can’t put ‘hell, yeah’ and ‘beautiful’ in the same sentence, baby.” He grins while the chorus plays.
“What do you say? Do you like it?”
He nods. “I say thank you for loving me every day.”
“So, that’s a yes?”
“That’s a yes.”
With a smile, we hit the road. It isn’t long before the sun begins to set, and we pull into a little takeout shop to get a quick bite to eat. Not wanting to waste any more time, we get back on the road.
The sun is set when we finally arrive at the seaside cottage. My hair moves in the gentle breeze blowing in from the sea. It smells like saltwater mixed with that unmistakable tangy crispness. It’s a scent I can’t get enough of, so much so, they should bottle it.
Aiden grabs the luggage, leaving me to only have to worry about carrying our dinner. As we head inside, the cottage is a quaint little two-story modern space that smells like fresh baked cookies. Setting our bags down next to the sofa, he turns on the lights. Everything is white—the ceiling, the walls, the rugs on the floor, the appliances—absolutely everything. The floors are whitewashed wood. There are shells and nets on the wall, but it doesn’t look tacky. It’s a perfect blend of artistic and romantic with the nautical design theme—perfectly Hampton’s vibe.
Walking up the stairs into the master bedroom, the floor is carpeted in a soft blue with a monster four-poster king-sized bed with a net canopy. The blue is a subtle contrast to the lack of color downstairs. All the windows have white shutters that open to a view of the sea. The view is breathtaking.
Not wanting to settle down for the night, we head back downstairs to the sofa area where there’s a huge double-glass sliding door that opens to a deck with a table and chairs.
“This place is fantastic.”
“I know. I did good, right?”
“You did very good.” He pulls me into an embrace and kisses me softly.
“We should have dinner before it gets cold.”
I walk over to the cupboards and search for plates to serve our burgers and now soggy fries out on the deck. It’s a beautiful night. The sound of waves crashing against the shore is calming and washes away the past few weeks of drama.
“This… this is exactly what I need.”
“I’m glad you like it. It’s so relaxing. I see ourselves spending the whole time on the beach, reading.”
“If I have anything to do with it, we’ll be up in that bedroom. Notreading.” He raises his eyebrows insinuatingly.
After dinner he disappears upstairs, returning a short time later with something in his hand.
“What have you got there, Mr. O’Connell?”
He smirks and holds out his hand which contains a piece of black, silky material. I look at him, creasing my forehead. “I found it on top of your suitcase when I was unpacking them.” He hands me the silky material which I take it from him, and it unravels into a small, sheer see-through negligee.
I grin at him knowing exactly what he’s in the mood for.