Reckless Regrets
Chapter 78

Morgan

After we landed in Paris, we made our way to the apartment and immediately passed out as soon as we got inside. It was only noon in France, but for us, it was 3:00 AM, and we were so wiped out. Somehow, I woke up before Kade and walked over to the window in the bedroom, looking down into the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.

The Tuileries was so close I felt like I could reach out and dip my hand in a fountain, and the Parisian skyline in the distance made me squeal with joy. I couldn’t believe that I’d finally arrived after all the years of imagining what it would be like to visit the city of love. I hopped back on the bed and bounced to wake Kade, and ended up scaring him instead. He shot up from his sleep and protectively wrapped his arms around me, scanning the room for the danger.

“I’m sorry handsome; I didn’t mean to do that. I’m just ready to go out and explore, and I can’t go without you,” I said with a chuckle.

“Holy s**t, Sugar, I was five seconds from shifting, and I don’t think a massive werewolf on the rampage is what Paris needs right now. Let me grab a shower, and we can go do whatever you want.”

Knowing how ready I was to go, Kade only took a few minutes to get ready, and before I knew it, I was holding his hand, dragging him down the gorgeous cobblestone streets. I loved how the names of the roads were on plaques either on the wall of the building or on the ground. It reminded me of a couple of times Taylor and I had gone to New Orleans and drank and danced until we passed out. Good times.

Kade never once complained, and he took every picture, plucked every flower, paid every street performer, and bought every croissant I asked him to. I knew that I was wearing myself out, and Kade probably knew it too, but it didn’t stop us from seeing everything we could.

By the end of our first day exploring, I’d learned a few essential tips. First off, Paris did not smell like baguettes, macaroons, and love. It was a city, a major city, and unless you were standing outside of a bakery, you were smelling pee, car exhaust, or who knows what else. Second, there were no stop signs on the roads. Correction: there was just one for the entire city, so at times it was like the Indy 500 when you got into a traffic circle and couldn’t seem to replace your way out. Third, ice was a weird American request and not automatically placed in drinks at restaurants. And when you asked for it, you immediately branded yourself as a tourist.

After a long exhausting day, we found a cute little restaurant and decided to have dinner there. Neither Kade nor I understood the menus, which were, of course, written in French, and I found it hilarious when he ordered his meal that first night and was served a beautiful plate of raw beef. The look of disgust on his face was almost too much and made me snort my lukewarm water into my nose. “Sugar, this is not cool. Yes, I’m a wolf, but I prefer my meat cooked. What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.

“You ordered a ‘tartare,’ I thought you knew what you’d be getting, but I see that’s not the case. You can send it back, but they did give you exactly what you asked for,” I replied. As I spoke, a sizzling skillet of steak with onions, mushrooms, and whole garlic cloves was placed before me, making my mouth water and Kade’s jaw drop. Oh, yeah, I’d definitely ordered the proper meal.

Kade quickly forked his dinner onto the skillet and tried to use some excess heat to bring the meat to a more reasonable temperature. When it barely worked, he just frowned and began to share my food with me. “I’m letting you order for me for the rest of the trip because this is phenomenal,” he mumbled between bites.

“I’ve got a confession. While you were in the restroom, I FaceTimed Matt and had him read the menu to me. I’ve kind of been using him as a long-distance translator all day,” I stated.

“What?! So you knew I was ordering raw beef and didn’t say anything? And even Matt betrayed me like this? I was the best man at his wedding, and he lets me order this nonsense?” Kade dramatically asked.

“Oh, calm down. No one did anything to you. Matt said you took three years of French in high school, so you should be conversational. Plus, it’s on the menu at Fleur de Lune.”

“High school was forever ago, and I don’t hold on to languages like the pretty boy does. And, I just get a T-bone and those insane cheesy potatoes when I go to the restaurant; I’m a creature of habit and like what I like. Next time you use his translation services, make sure I get to reap the benefits too; he’s my best friend, not yours.”

Kade stabbed at another piece of my steak and popped it into his mouth, trying really hard to hold an angry look on his face. But the entire situation was too funny from start to finish, and he ended up laughing along with me. It was so much fun to sit on the sidewalk and watch the city pass by while I talked and laughed with my husband. Even with Kade’s dinner disaster, it was probably one of the best meals I’d ever shared with him.

***

Kade

Morgan was so excited to see everything, and that incredible smile of hers never left her face no matter what we were doing, so I knew that I’d made the right choice in picking Paris for our honeymoon. I’d order a million plates of raw food, and if it made her laugh just once, it would be worth it. After we had our eventful night out, I’d brought her back home and made love to her while the sounds of her favorite city flooded into our bedroom. Looking down at her and seeing the emotion and adoration she had for me almost stole my breath. Maybe this really was the city of love.

That next morning I made us a huge breakfast, complete with fresh fruit, cheeses, and pastries that made Morgan m**n each time she took a bite. “I need to know what they put in these things. It can’t just be flour and butter; I’m telling you, somebody is lying,” she told me while she thoroughly examined a bit of croissant.

“Well, you have a baking class scheduled for this morning, so you can replace out for yourself. That is if you still want to go; otherwise, we can go explore some more. I found some nice little cities outside of Paris we could visit as a day trip,” I suggested.

“Oh, I’m going. When will I ever again have the chance to bake with a French pastry chef in Paris?!”

“Whenever you want, it doesn’t take too much planning to get us over here, but I see what you’re saying. We’ll head out after breakfast, I replied.

She gladly ate out on the balcony and watched the city began to wake from its slumber, and an hour later, I was roaming the area alone after dropping her off in class. At first, I figured I would replace something to hold my interest for the few hours she would be learning, but changed my mind. This trip was an adventure for her, and all I wanted was to experience her joy in being here.

So I found a quiet bench and began to sketch. I sketched the area around me, the memory of Morgan beneath me as we made love last night, and the image of her smiling at me as Paris played out in the background during breakfast. When she was my subject, I could fill an entire book without even trying. People walked by and glanced at what I was doing, but I barely saw them; I only saw my love and her happiness.

While I worked on a piece that I fully intended to make my next tattoo, I felt a presence walk up to me from behind.

“Hey, handsome, what you up to?”

“Go away, I’m a married man and not interested,” I quickly replied.

When the person didn’t move, I whipped my head around and was met by Morgan’s smiling face. She smelled like butter and vanilla and everything else, which was why I didn’t recognize when she’d walked up to me.

“Sugar bear, I’m so sorry, baby, I thought you were someone else,” I apologized.

“I see that. But the question still stands, what are you up to?”

I pulled her down into my lap and showed her the drawings I’d done while I waited and watched how impressed she was with them. Art was always something that resonated with me, and it seemed that this place really brought out my talent. “Kade, these are incredible; the detail is spot on, and I swear a photo couldn’t be any clearer. You’ve got a real gift,” she said.

“Thank you. Drawing is what I love to do, and it’s always brought me peace, especially when it’s you I’m drawing.”

“I see that I’m your favorite subject; if I wasn’t so in love, I might replace this creepy. Half of them are of me when I’m asleep.”

“It’s when you’re the most at peace and worry-free. My goal in life is to keep stress away from you, so when I see you peacefully sleeping, I feel that I’ve done my job for the day, and I reward myself with a few minutes of staring at your gorgeous face,” I replied.

“Yep, you’re a creep. But, you’re a sexy, sweet, and caring creep, so I decided that I want to join your club, with this,” she said as she turned her phone to face me. She’d, at some point, taken a picture of me when I was deep in thought working on my drawing. My forehead was furrowed, I was gnawing on my lower l*p, and my head was c****d to the side as I worked to make an already perfect Morgan even better.

“That’s a good picture, Sugar. But what are you going to do with it?” I asked.

“I’m getting my first tattoo, and it’s going right here,” she said, rubbing her hand over her left h*p and thigh.

“That’s a big piece, babe, and are you sure you want it of me? You can have anything in the world.”

“I know. It probably won’t cover the whole area, I just want in in this vicinity, but I’m 100% sure that it will be of you. As Cameron says, the tattoo of me on your ribs is your favorite picture, and this is mine. So let’s do this,” she proudly stated.

“Wait. Now? You don’t want to think about it and maybe have it done at home?” I asked.

“Nope. I’m experiencing everything Paris had to offer, so it’s getting done here. Let’s go, you’re my resident expert, so I know you won’t let me get screwed over.”

I didn’t waste my breath asking if she was sure again; when my wife decided to do something, she usually stuck to it without fail, so I packed my things and took her to the best-rated tattoo parlor in the city. When we arrived, we called our translator and had him explain what we were doing and all the details and read over the waiver we had to sign. When everything was done, and she climbed into the chair, I had to smile. She was about to place an image of me on that perfect olive skin of hers, and I was honored that she’d chosen to do so.

When Olivier made the first pass, and Morgan strung together ever single curse she’d ever heard in her life, I laughed out loud then walked over to take her hand. It was about to be a hellishly long day.