Lights, Camera, Christian.

This is not a standalone. This is a continuation of Lights, Camera, Ana. So it might pay to read that story first or else you might get a little lost.

I'm not going to muck around. Straight into it! There quite a bit to cover so things will be happening right off the bat :)

Take One - Couscous

Soundtrack: Ed Sheeran - Thinking out loud.


"Left. Right. Left. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. Left. Right. Left. Shit," Ana's brow furrows in defeat. Stomping her stiletto she pouts, rolls her shoulders then gets back into position.

Stifling a grin, I shuffle out of her grasp, reach for the remote and turn the music off. "Baby, you're taking all the fun out of it. Just relax. Don't count, just move with me... I know you can do that, very well in fact." I raise a suggestive eyebrow at her.

"I just want it to be perfect; I can't fucking waltz!" She throws her hands in the air in frustration.

I burst into laughter. "Hey...just breathe. Me and you, baby." I switch the music back on, setting it to an Ed Sheeran song I know she loves. Taking her hand in mine, I spin her around slowly, gracefully, and then cocoon her to my chest. My hands snake down to her hips, gripping her floaty skirt, our hips locked and swaying in perfect synchronization.

"It's our wedding, babe. We can dance however we want." She sighs into my embrace, her body visibly deflating; soft and languid. Wandering hands creep over my ass and pull me closer. Squeezing me with her fingers, she grinds into me in time with the music. "That might be a little inappropriate," I groan as she tugs the back of my shirt out of my pants and slides her warm hands up the cool skin of my back. "Ana."

"Hmm," she hums dreamily, her mouth exploring my neck.

"Ah, fuck it." I grab the back of her legs and slide my hands up her thighs, beneath her skirt and up to tug on her thong; it needs to come off. Now!

"Hey. We are supposed to be practicing our dance." She giggles, trying to wiggle out of my grip.

"Says she who is groping me like she hasn't been serviced twice today," I growl, giving her bum a smack.

"Okay, okay. Sorry. You just smell so good. I'll behave." She exhales with a smile and fixes her skirt then places her hands on my shoulders. "No touching inappropriately."

She closes her eyes and rests her head on my shoulder; her face tantalizingly close to mine. Minty breath and the smell of strawberries invades my sense. I can't help it, lowering my face I capture her mouth, kissing her long and slow; our tongues dancing sensually, our breaths mingling. My hands move on their own accord, lifting her skirt to grab her ass again. She moans into my mouth, sensuality oozing from her, desire evident in the damp scrap of lace covering her folds.

"Fuck," she pants, stepping back. "This isn't working. Maybe we should move on. Seating plan." She claps with a new direction, intent on hashing out some of the finer details tonight; much to the disappointment of my cock.

I stalk her as she wanders to the sofa, my eyes focused on her messed up skirt. She stops short to lift her wedding folder; bursting at the seam with plans, and I bump into her. Grabbing her around the waist I move my other hand down her stomach and hip, lifting the fabric of her skirt up to cup her lace covered pussy. "As long as this sweet ass is on my lap, I could give a fuck where anyone else is seated."

"Christian," she scolds, breathy with frustration and desire. "Focus. Four weeks! That's 28 days, babe."

I scoop up her hair and push it over her shoulder, my lips finding the soft skin of her neck. "Okay, family up front, everyone else... Free for all at the back. Who cares?" I suck on her flesh, eliciting a string of whimpers.

"I care," she chokes. Closing my eyes in resignation, I step back. Snap out of it Grey, this is important to her.

"Okay, show me what you've got." I adjust my crotch and take a seat on the sofa. Offering me a satisfied smile she takes her folder and opens it up over our laps. She stretches her legs out and rests her strappy stiletto covered feet on the ottoman in front of her. Dragging my eyes up her bare legs, I come to focus on the seating arrangement. I throw my head back and laugh. It's just so...Ana. Tiny little magnetic chairs with individual names are positioned around moveable circular tables on a replica of the ballroom we decided on for the reception.

"Don't laugh at me." She stifles her own laughter. "It gets the job done faster."

"Baby, I love you." I shake away my amusement and look down at the plan. Moving the folder completely onto my lap she gets up. "I'm going to grab snacks," ruffling my hair she wanders into the kitchen and pokes her head inside the fridge.

I return my attention to the seating and start shuffling seats around. "Are you okay with Claire and Hannah sitting with Ros and the gang?" I ask, moving their names over to GEH table. Claire is Ana's agent, and Hannah is her new publicist and is also slowly taking over Kate's PA duties.

When she doesn't respond I look up, my breath catching in my throat. "You're testing my patience tonight, baby," I grumble, rubbing my hands over my face roughly. The look on her face would be enough to get a priest to drop his drawers. Smoldering eyes and a tongue swipe across her bottom lip has my almost loose pants tightening again in an instant.

A hand is placed on my shoulder, pushing my back hard against the sofa, and the folder is removed from my lap before she climbs over me, her knees resting at my hips. "You got my favorite truffles in..." Fingers creep up my stomach, coming to rest at the top of my shirt. She starts popping the buttons, her nails scratching lightly at my skin, her breath hot on my face. Licking my lips, I lock eyes with her. Her mouth is slightly parted, her eyes are hooded and full of desire. "I love those truffles..."

"I can tell," my hands find themselves on her thighs, pushing her skirt up.

Reaching the last button she moves down to tug on my belt, unbuckling it then popping the button and unzipping me. I watch her; every movement a turn on, every touch like fire, every breath a seduction. She reaches into my boxers and frees my erection causing me to throw my head back on a groan.

Taking me by surprise she raises herself, then takes me in with no warning; her fingers grazing my cock as she holds the delicate lace of her thong to the side. My head snaps up, my mouth open, my eyes watching her glistening pussy take me in. "Fuck me that's beautiful."

"Ohhh. Yeah..." She sucks in a breath and rolls her hips. "You feel so good."

Her squeezing, rocking and undulating is driving me out of my fucking mind. "God, baby. Yeah... Like that." My hands slide up her blouse to her hair, tangling in her soft curls and pulling her face to mine. Our mouths clash, tongues duel and lips drag as she rides me like there's no tomorrow. "Fuck yeah," I growl my hands tightening their hold on her head. Nearing the end of my control, I lower a hand and smack her ass, knowing that will tip her over.

"Oh god yeah... Yes. Yes." She bites down on my bottom lip her movements almost frantic. "Again... Smack me babe...fuck me." I hold her down by her shoulders and buck into her as she moves. "Oooooooo god." Her nails dig into my chest, her face plastered to my neck. She stills and moans as we both let go on a shudder.

I lean my head back on the back of the sofa and catch my breath. "Best thank you ever," I exhale, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Thank you, baby," She purrs, nuzzling my neck.

"For the truffles or the insane sex?" I blow out a breath and pull her closer, getting comfortable. I smooth her skirt down, wrap my arms around her waist and close my eyes leaving us connected intimately.

"Can'," I feel her body melt into mine, her muscles relaxing her breathing slowing.

"Wakey, wakey." Mom's voice registers in my state of drowsiness.

"Hey Mom," I croak, shifting on the sofa, only then realizing my predicament. My cock still snug between Ana's thighs. Fuck. She moves, stirring and I have to swallow back a moan. I open an eye, thanking god when I see Ana's skirt fanning out around our thighs concealing us.

"Been doing some planning," she asks, pointing to Ana's folder.

"Yeah," I rub a hand over my face. Think Christian, think! "Mom can you run to our room and get a pillow and blanket, I'll lie her down and let her sleep here."

"Okay, son." She gets up and walks over to our bedroom door giving me a little time. I grab Ana's hips and raise her slowly which only results in a low sexy moan coming from her mouth. Her hands thread through my hair, and she starts sucking on my neck.

"Christ. Baby, my Mom's here." I grab hold of my dick and shove it into my briefs then zip my pants. Not sure of how much time I have I yank my belt from the loops and shove it down the side of the cushions.

Ana lifts her head sleepily, her eyes trying to focus on mine. I don't think she heard me because she lowers her lips to mine and starts kissing me. "I was enjoying that...

"Baby, my Mom is here," I mumble into her kiss. Her head snaps up in recognition, and she immediately helps me button my shirt, the last button secured just as Mom strolls back into the room.

"Oh... He didn't wake you did he?" Mom shoots me a disapproving look then diverts her eyes to Ana and smiles widely. "Here you go darling." Mom hands over the throw rug and places the pillow on the sofa beside us.

"Hi," Ana greets her. Mom wouldn't know, but Ana looks about ready to curl up from embarrassment. Her wide eyes, finger tapping and a lopsided smile; otherwise she's as calm as usual. "Sorry, I must have dozed off." She climbs off my knee, careful to keep her skirt close and her modesty intact.

"Oh gosh, don't apologize," mom waves her hand through the air. "I know you've started filming again. How's it going?"

"It's great. It's nice to feel like I'm doing something again." Ana replies, a genuine smile on her face.

"Doing something? Baby, you've single-handedly designed our house. That's something."

"Oh no, don't get me wrong. I loved it... But you know, it's nice to work and feel like I'm contributing again." She pats my thigh but looks at Mom. I file this conversation in my head for when Mom leaves. I hardly call fucking me - multiple times -into agreeing to let her pay six million towards the cost of the house build not contributing. Best contribution I've ever received for a project.

"Of course," Mom agrees which only serves to annoy me more.

"Truffles anyone," I bite, making my way towards the kitchen.

"He thinks he should be solely responsible for financing our lives," I hear Ana whisper and Mom grumble.

"Ya know, I can still hear you from here!" I pipe up, reaching up for the truffles and grabbing Gail's batch of blueberry muffins that I know Mom loves.

I deposit the food on the coffee table then head back for drinks. I return with three glass and a bottle of Pinot Gris. "Oh, I'm driving Honey,"

"Taylor and Reynolds can drive you home. So what can we do for you Mom," I ask, filling all the glasses then taking my seat next to Ana again.

I watch as Mom takes a sip from of her wine, "I was just confirming the bookings at the resort and had some questions. I was on my way home so thought I would call in."

"Shoot," I lean back, wine in one hand the other resting along the back of the sofa behind Ana.

"Do you want all the guests there for the entire week?" She asks, shuffling through her bag and pulling out a manila folder nearly as thick as Ana's.

I look at Ana trying to gauge her opinion. "If they aren't family, they can fly in the morning of the rehearsal dinner," I answer, Ana giving me a cheeky sideways grin. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. "So what's that, three days beforehand?" Ana nods her agreement while reaching forward for her wine and not surprisingly, not one, but three truffles.

"Okay," Mom ticks a box and scribbles something besides it. "So, money. Do the guests have to pay...?" She drawls hesitantly.

"Jesus, Mom. We wouldn't have a wedding on an island then expect everyone to flip the bill for accommodation and travel. We'll cover the cost... No fucking tabs at the bars though, wedding night being the exception."

"Language." Mom scolds me, but agrees and ticks another box.

"Okay... Elena. I can't find her on my list, so I went ahead and booked her a room anyway."

I stiffen, as does Ana. "That would be because we didn't invite her." I seethe, trying to keep my cool in front of Mom.

"Why on earth not, honey she's been a friend of the family for years." Mom asks incredulously.

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and rub circles around my temples. "Mom, she's your friend. Not mine." It's all I have. I can't go there with Mom, and I refuse to tell her the truth.

"For goodness sake Christian!" She growls with a shake of her head. "One day. One very important day for our family. She's been there for everything else."

"Look...Mom..." Ana's hand squeezes my thigh causing me to stop mid-sentence.

"Have you talked to her about the wedding... Where we are having it, details?" Ana looks at me with worry.

I lift my hands up in frustration. "Please don't tell me you've been talking to her," I ask, anger in my voice, despite my attempt to disguise it. It's not Mom's fault I haven't been honest with her.

"Of course not! You asked me not to reveal any details to anyone and I've respected your wishes." She sounds offended and knocks back the rest of her wine.

"Grace," Ana murmurs. "Please don't be offended, we are extra cautious with information after the accident..." She trails off.

Mom's face softens. "Of course. I just don't understand why you wouldn't invite her son...look, never mind. Like you said it's your day." She scans her paper looking for the next question, and I feel like absolute shit. Ana takes my hand and laces her fingers with mine, squeezing gently.

"Okay, cake?"

"Oh, done!" Ana grins, her feet bouncing excitedly. "I...ah," her eyes dart to mine, "I've already chosen a design, we just need to choose the flavor?" She squeaks, turning the statement into a question. "Christian and I can schedule a cake testing for later this week or early next."

"I thought it would be easier to just truck in a mountain of truffles..." I joke, regretting it instantly when Ana's face lights up.

"Are you serious?" She asks, her eyes bright.

"Actually that was a joke..." I mutter, earning a dig to the torso.

"Don't joke with me about stuff like that," she pouts like a petulant child. It's a pout that, usually, gets me caving into her, and she knows it. Not this time. Quite frankly I'm fucking sick of the little lumps of chocolate.

"Not going to work this time, babe!" I announce. Reaching forward I take a truffle from its gold tray and lean back to shove it in her mouth. "There." I plant a chaste kiss on her lips as she rolls her eyes in ecstasy. Not quite as good as the look I get when I run my tongue along her pu...

Snapping out of my erotic reverie by Mom's voice, I sit back and keep my hands to myself. Down boy, down.

"Wedding party, we've already penciled that ..." Mom scans down her list, "oh, food. Sit down or buffet? The resort is willing to do either."

Ana and I turn to look at each other, both of us vacant. "Sit down would be more formal, but I like the idea of a buffet where people could choose what they like. What if we choose dishes no one likes?"

"They can fucking starve," I reply almost instantly. "It's not about them, babe."

"Mouth!" Mom growls, firmer with her tone this time.

"Sorry, Mom. They can go hungry!" I rephrase, raising my hands in defeat.

"Can we get back to you on that one?" Ana asks.

"Of course,"

"I'm sorry," Ana continues, "I feel bad that you are doing all this and we aren't very helpful are we?" She looks frustrated with herself. I knew this was coming. It was only a matter of time before she felt like it was a burden. She shouldn't. There's no way Ana could have organized this on her own without her identity, or worse, the details of our wedding leaking to the press eventually. We found that out quickly when the location of our home was leaked and has since become somewhat of a tourist attraction; people driving out to see where Anastasia Steel will be living. My GEH tech and security teams managed to track it back to one of the painters; who is now unemployed and is being prosecuted for his breach of NDA. His employer is also nailing him for breeches in his contract, including divulging confidential client information.

"Don't be silly, sweetie. I'm honored to be doing this for you both," Mom offers Ana a sympathetic smile. I imagine only a woman could understand how disappointing it would be to not be the one sending the emails or making the phone calls. Ana offers her a half smile back, but I can still see the disappointment in her eyes.

"Hey," pushing Mom's presence aside I cup Ana's face, stroking her flawless skin with my thumbs. "Baby, you're doing so much more than you give yourself credit for."

"My dress and the cake is hardly helping," she shrugs.

On a sigh, I press our foreheads together, "you forget the seating, the music choices, and the invitations; which by the way you designed yourself. You chose the flowers and picked the table settings... Do I need to go on," I raise an eyebrow, daring her to doubt her involvement.

I watch closely as her mouth curls into a lopsided smile. "No I guess you don't." She blinks up at me; those transfixing baby blues glued on my adoring gaze. I know exactly what she is thinking - or what she wants.

"Yeah," I breathe, watching those lashes pull me in with every seductive bat, "me too."

I sit back, returning my attention to Mom, who has been packing up her folder. "That was it really." She smiles that a smile a mother does when she knows something without being told. It's been an hour, and it's late, it was probably enough for tonight, so I'm not going to fight her on it.

"Thanks, Mom, we'll come over tomorrow when Ana finishes at the doctors, see if we can finalize a menu."

I see Mom out, getting Taylor to drive her while Reynolds takes her car.

When the apartment is empty, I go in search of Ana, finding her sitting on our bed wearing nothing but a pair of tiny purple panties while she rubs lotion into her legs. "Fuck, that's sexy," I yank the shirt from my head on a groan and just as quickly rid myself of my dress pants; leaving it all in a heap on the bedroom floor.

As tempting as it to take over the rubbing, I crawl up next to her, position myself against the pillows and just slightly stroke her back.

Minutes later, my eyes open slowly when she finishes and settles back next to me. "Come here," patting my shoulder I encourage her to get closer, which she does, settling her head on my outstretched arm, and a hand on my abdomen. Bringing my other arm over, I curl it around her waist and pull her in tight.

"Mmm," she relaxes on a soft sigh, her body going limp. "I ate way too many truffles tonight."

"You don't say," I respond with a chuckle, my hand creeping down to her ass for a squeeze; still perfect, despite the amount of chocolate she consumes.

"You always smell so good," her muffled voice vibrating against my chest. "I just want to sniff you all day." She adds.

"I know the feeling," my sleep laced voice responds.


"If you can try and keep further to the left." The director's voice booms over the sound of the cameramen rushing back to the starting position. I listen intently, taking in the new instructions then walk back to my starting point marked by a cross made with white masking tape.

A team of makeup crew are already there to touch up my face, brushing my cheeks with a powder to conceal the trail marks of tears left from last take.

When I am done, the clapboard is held in front of the director's screen by an assistant. "Scene 36, Take 5." The slap of the clapboard sounds.

With the fake phone held to my ear, I walk down the set of the hospital corridor. Keeping to the left as instructed. Four more steps. "Daniel, you've been acting strange lately... Are we okay?" I say into the dummy iPhone.

Cue the emotions. I lean back against the drywall; eyes closed, chin trembling. "God, I don't know. You've just been so distant lately. I feel like we are growing apart." I wipe a tear from my cheek, turning a little to camera two and blink free another tear. "I love you," I whisper, the words echoing around the silent room; eyes closed, tears now streaming. I focus on breathing as I wait for the cut.

"And CUT!"

Short, but a pivotal scene in the movie. The beginning of the end. I wipe my face and shake the emotions off as best I can. It's not always easy to turn off emotions you've spent all day drowning yourself in; particularly anger and sadness; grief is the worst. I let the assistant director walk me across the white set, listening as she gives me the run down.

I can sense him before I can see him, my head jerking up instinctively to search him out. It's been a long day, and nothing sounds more appealing than the warmth of his arms, the touch of his hands, and the smell of his cologne.

He's not difficult to find amongst the crew, still dressed in his work suit, hair a perfect chaotic mess. Talking enthusiastically to the director, he's hunched over watching the playback screen intently. As if he senses me too, he looks up, our eyes connecting.

"You nailed it, baby." Swooping me into his arms, he peppers my head with kisses. Let's get out of here." Lacing our fingers together, he leads me down to wardrobe so I can change out of my set clothes. I have a physical therapy appointment this afternoon, followed by a checkup at the doctors, so I opt to put my gym gear on; saves changing clothes at the physiotherapy clinic.

A handful of paps are scattered outside of the set, a few call out to us. I don't panic as much as I used to. I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that unless I give up my passion, it's something I have to deal with; so I suck it up.

Christian scowls, shooting them a glare which they are all too familiar. Pulling me into him, with his arm slung around my shoulders he rests his chin on top of my head. Protected. Safe.

We must look a sight. Christian in his tailored designer suit; looking every bit the professional, me in my spandex and flats. Complete opposites.

Therapy goes as expected, a lot of band and ball work, jumping and stretching. Christian watches intently, a permanent frown on his forehead. He wouldn't settle for less than the best physiotherapist Seattle had to offer, but immediately regretted it when Kelly Monteith turned out to be a man. Needless to say, Christian has accompanied me to all of my sessions, much to my amusement.

The doctor goes much about the same; a routine check on both my incision site and my leg. Urine and blood samples are taken to check for infections and such; the splenectomy having left me with a weakened immune system.

By the time we are due to be at Christian's parents' house for dinner, I am dog tired.

"We can cancel," Christian says, knowing me all too well. He brushes the hair from my face and drags his lips along mine. "You're tired."

"I'm okay," taking advantage of his proximity I open my mouth and groan into a deeper kiss.

"Mmm." He takes hold of my face and holds me back, his eyes clouded with lust, "I don't want you burning out baby, we've got a busy schedule this month."

"I know, I'm fine I promise. It's only dinner." His eyes search mine, hesitancy written all over his features.

"Dinner...and wedding plans," he cocks an eyebrow. "If you so much as blink for too long, I'm taking you home." He states, pulling me into another chaste kiss.

"Got it, no closing my eyes."

"Babe, I'm serious. You're working long hours playing catch up, and you're planning a wedding, and still recovering from the accident. It's just dinner. We can reschedule."

"I'm fine," I emphasize the fine. He rolls his eyes, earning himself a punch to the ribs. His stomach tenses on a chuckle before his eyes turn dark and predatory. "You just want to get me home and naked," I whisper beside his ear, my tongue slipping out to flick his lobe.

"You got was watching this tight ass in spandex earlier." He reaches around me and slides his hand over my ass, his breath hot in my ear as he squeezes.

The car rolls to a stop, effectively putting a halt on the intimate moment. I straighten Christian's tie; smooth over the lapels of his jacket then plant a soft kiss upon his lips. "Thank you for caring so much."


Words cannot express how I feel watching Ana walking into my parents' home like she's belonged there all her life. It's like a second home to her, and she's comfortable and welcome; something I never envisaged - having not just a girlfriend or woman, but a soon to be wife being accepted into my family.

Mia is quick to drag her upstairs so she can change out of her physiotherapy gear; helping by offering to carry her small duffle bag up the stairs. She's walking around fine now, though when she's had a long day or been working it too hard she gets a slight limp.

Leaving them to their girl time, I head into the kitchen to see how Mom is getting on with dinner.

Instantly I wish I had tried Dad's study. Mom is nowhere in sight, the only body in the kitchen is that of Gretchen; serial flirt and pain in my ass.

"Hi," her face lights up, her hand creeping up her chest to play with her hair. Do girls think that's sexy? Twiddling with the end of their hair. It's not. Unless of course it's Ana, and she's sitting on top of my cock.

"Where's my Mom?" I grunt, doing my damnedest to look annoyed; not that I have to act. She pisses me the hell off. Have some dignity woman!

"She... Um... I think she went upstairs to get dressed." She replies coyly, drawing her bottom lip into her mouth. For fucks sake. Did she just fucking wink?!

"Look, Greta... Gretal..." Yeah, I'm an ass, "in case you don't follow the news, and I'm eng..."

Oh, thank fuck. Saved by the giggle squad. A bouncing Mia and laughing Ana come strolling into the kitchen.

"Hey, what's so funny?" I sweep Ana into my arms, using her as a shield; locking my arms around her waist and burying my face in the crook of her neck. I watch with narrowed eyes as Gretchen straightens, dropping the lock of hair from her fingers and letting her over glossed lip pop out from her teeth.

"We were just talking about a bachelorette party," Mia announces excitedly. Now it's my turn to straighten up.

Feeling me tense, Ana steps back and looks up into my eyes. "Do not even think about saying no!" She glares, knowing me well enough to gauge my reaction.


"Na uh!" She puts her foot down. "I'm going to celebrate with my girls. Complete with the obligatory tiaras, feather boas, rhinestone panties and chocolate p..." She hesitates, a pink blush creeping over her adorable face.

"Chocolate what, babe?"

"," she stutters, looking as cute as ever with her eyes downcast.

"You can't say it can you." I laugh.

"Can too."

"Say it." She looks between Mia and me. When she doesn't respond I take her face in my hands and put my mouth to her ear. "Just say it to me."

"Christian," she almost whines, her eyes flicking back to Mia, who is occupying herself at the refrigerator.

"I want to hear it," she licks her lips, her tongue tantalizingly close to my jaw, before reaching up on her toes and whispering in my ear.

"Penis." She says on a giggle, taking a deep breath before continuing. "God, I love your cock babe. It makes me feel so good, pounding into my pussy... So big and... You taste so good...when my lips and tongue wrap around it..."

I groan and shove my hands into the back pockets of the jeans Ana has changed into.

She steps back, her eyes narrowed. "Is that what you wanted to hear?" She asks innocently, before scooting away and joining Mia and Gretchen at the bench and starts fixing herself a juice. Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have teased her.

"Juice?" She holds up a glass, looking pretty pleased with herself.

With a shake of the head, I move over to her, stand behind her and fix myself a glass of orange juice; making sure to rub my rather uncomfortable crotch against the tight fabric covering her ass.

"If you think I won't throw you over my shoulder and take you upstairs... You're mistaken." I take a swig of the juice, downing all but a few drops in one go. "Thanks, baby." I smack her bum then turn and head to Dad's office.

When Dad and I emerge the women are in full wedding plan mode, papers, pictures, menus and notes scattered all over the dining room table. Ana is busy talking on the phone, must be talking to the Resort chef, and going by the one-sided conversation Parmesan crusted stuffed zucchini is a go for one of the entrees.

Ana stops every so often, her palm against the receiver as she asks my opinion.

"Would you prefer soufflés or little fondants?" She whispers.

"Isn't fondant the stuff they cover cakes with?" I ask.

"Well yeah, but fondants are also little cakes that ooze yumminess when you cut into them..." She laughs.

"Shit I don't know... Fondants then."

"I kind of like soufflé, and it's a bit lighter." She bites her lip.

"Soufflé then." She hums and ha's then uncovers the receiver.

"We'll go for the fondants ... Yes... Cream, maybe some fresh berries on the side."

Five minutes later:

"Lamb or beef, baby?" She asks.


"Not beef?"

"Do you want beef?"

"I don't know what I want, and that's why I asked you."

"I want lamb."

"You don't think more people would go for beef?"

"Get the beef!"

"But I thought you wanted lamb?"

"I want beef."

"Okay, we'll go for the lamb." She says into the phone, turning back to the menus in front of her. I face Dad, an incredulous look on my face. He laughs silently shaking his head as if to say 'women.'

"Couscous or rice?"

"Whatever you want, baby," I reply trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice while I type out an email to a supplier I'm thinking of using.

"Well, I think couscous would be better with the lamb."

"Couscous it is," I smile widely, looking up from my phone. She eyes me, obviously onto the falseness of my smile. We can't all be Oscar winners, and can you blame me? Every question I answer gets answered with a question about my choices. I chance a look at Mom who is giving me the evil eye along with Mia. What the hell? She's asking for my opinion, I'm giving it. Men can multitask too.

I lift my hands up in a defeated gesture. "What the fuck did I do?" I ask wide-eyed and slightly terrified at the three sets of eyes narrowed on me. I look to Dad for support, but he's currently inspecting his shoes, his shoulders shaking. Traitor.

"Do you really want couscous, or are you just saying that to get out of making a decision so you can continue to play on your phone?" Mia asks; her head tilted accusingly.

Are they for real? "I love couscous. Give me the fucking couscous..."

"Mouth!" Mom growls; Dad laughs.

"Look, I'm not there for the food. If Ana wanted fucking mac and cheese, I'd gladly eat it. Jesus, if you want soup in a packet, go for it. As long as you're happy on our wedding day I could give a fuck if we served tinned spaghetti!" I look solely at Ana.

A chorus of awe's echo from the girls. Fuck me. I push myself up from the sofa and march to the kitchen. I need a beer.

Gentle hands wrap around my waist as I open the refrigerator door.

"I'm sorry," Ana's hands creep under my shirt, lightly scratching my abdomen. "I just want everything to be perfect. I didn't mean to have a bridezilla moment." I let my head drop back on a sigh.

Turning I hold her to my chest. "I really do like couscous." I laugh.

"I know," she pouts in apology, drawing my eyes to her mouth. Sliding my hands into her hair I tilt my head to the side and angle my mouth over hers. Her hands and body tremble with need, her mouth opens on a soft groan. Her tongue strokes mine languidly, her sweet breath invading all of my senses. Fucking hell. With her hands still on my abdomen she glides them up to my chest, her nails grazing my skin. I walk her backwards until she hits the bench; my body needing and seeking more. I lightly bite her bottom lip; she whimpers in response.

"Fuck, baby. We need to get out of here."

"We haven't had dinner yet," she breathes, stopping only to talk before peppering my mouth with slow, sensual kisses.

Soft footsteps alert me to the presence of someone else in the room. With Ana still pressing soft kisses on and around my mouth I open my eyes. It's only Gretchen, and although I should probably stop Ana, I can't help but be a little pleased that Gretchen has seen us. Maybe it might finally sink in that I'm off limits, and her flirting might stop.

Cradling Ana's face I kiss her one more time, my lips lingering on hers before pulling back and kissing her forehead. "Mmm, I love you." She murmurs.

I tilt her head up, encouraging her to open her eyes, "I love you too, even when you go all couscous on me."

She gives me a lazy smile, a smile that I will never tire of seeing. Her eyes hooded and dreamy, her lips pink and a little puffy; thoroughly kissed.

"Come, let's get you feed so I can get you home."