“Where’s your ring? Having regrets about marrying me already?” he says lightly, but I don’t miss the edge in his voice. “It’s on the bedside table.” I lay another kiss against his skin. “And don’t be silly.” He turns in my arms so we’re facing each other, our bare, slick chests pressed together. “Are you sure?” In his bright blue eyes, I see concern. It’s almost laughable, given it was me who was worrying about Henry having regrets just last week. I stretch onto my tiptoes until I can skate my lips against his. “Yes, I’m sure.”
