“I’m a little torn between wanting to stare at you in this dress some more, and wanting to tear it off you.” The elevator doors opened and we stepped inside, shifting to the back to make room for a few others, who smiled at us and murmured their congratulations.

Every time I remembered that Will was my husband now, tiny bombs went off inside my chest.

I pressed my face to his shoulder, breathing him in as the elevator began to climb. He smelled amazing; the scent of orchids that had filled the entire reception clung to him. I felt light-headed for a moment. Gone were any nerves and exhilaration, and sheer fucking want raced through my veins.

I did a quick check to make sure nobody was paying attention, and then pushed up onto my toes so I could whisper into his ear.

“I know we head home early tomorrow,” I said, already dreading the alarm that would go off at eight in the morning to get us to the airport on time. “So we need to make the best use of our time. Bed, floor, couch... I want you to take me everywhere.” I paused, adding even more quietly, “I want to feel you everywhere.”

Will straightened with a quick intake of air and looked around us. “Christ, Hanna.”

“What? I’m whispering.”

Will bit back a laugh. “Have you ever actually heard yourself whisper? It’s like a stage whisper, done only for comedic effect and meant to be heard by the people all the way in the back.”

I shook my head. “No way.” Pointing to my chest, I added, “Super subtle.”

Will’s continued laughter was cut short as the doors opened on the second floor, and everyone shifted to let an older couple step out. I hated to admit it, but if the looks everyone gave us over their shoulders were any indication, Will was right... they’d heard everything.

As we started moving again, Will leaned in and pressed his mouth to my ear. “But honestly, I like the sound of all of this.”

“I have a list and want to make sure we get to everything.”

“You have a list.”

I looked at him, blinking. “You don’t?”

“Hanna,” he said, laughing. “You are amazing.”

A chime signaled we’d reached our floor and the doors opened. I’d barely taken a step forward when he reached for me, swooping me up in his arms and laughing as my surprised screech rang up and down the empty hall.

“You’re carrying me?”

“I’m carrying you.”

I looped my arms around his neck. “I thought you weren’t a fan of traditions.”

I could hear his footsteps against the plush carpet, but couldn’t seem to drag my eyes away from his face. I was fascinated by his mouth and his lashes and the way my fingers slipped so easily through the back of his hair.