Chapter 184: Extra 3 Wedding(3)

Cecilia

Arthur's hand found mine, his fingers threading through with that familiar possessiveness as he guided me forward along the shoreline.

The waves rolling in with rhythmic certainty, and I found myself relaxing into the warmth of his presence beside me.

"Where are we going?" I asked, though part of me didn't really care—just being here with him after three months apart felt like enough.

"You'll see," he said, that small smile playing at his lips that meant he was planning something, that he had a surprise he was barely containing.

We rounded a curve in the beach, and suddenly I saw them—a professional crew in matching uniforms, working efficiently around what looked like a massive deflating balloon, their movements coordinated as they packed away equipment and coiled ropes.

But it wasn't just any balloon.

Even partially deflated, I could see the sheer size of it—deep blue fabric with silver accents that caught the sunlight, the wicker basket lying on its side nearby, large enough to hold several people comfortably.

"Oh my god," I breathed, my steps faltering as understanding crashed over me. "Arthur, is that—did you—"

"A hot air balloon," he confirmed, his voice warm with satisfaction at my obvious shock. "I had them bring it in this morning. Thought you might like to see the estate from above, see the ocean from a different perspective."

I turned to look at him fully, my hands coming up to grip his shirt as joy bubbled up in my chest. "Like it? Arthur, I love it! This is—god, this is incredible!"

His smile widened, genuine pleasure lighting his eyes as he pulled me closer. "Good. Because we're going up as soon as they finish the final safety checks."

The crew worked with practiced efficiency, and within twenty minutes the balloon was upright again, the burner roaring to life and filling the envelope with hot air that made the fabric billow and strain against the ropes holding it down.

Arthur helped me into the basket first, his hands steady on my waist as he lifted me over the edge, then climbed in himself with easy grace.

The pilot—a weathered man in his fifties who introduced himself simply as Captain Hayes—ran through safety procedures with the kind of calm authority that suggested he'd done this thousands of times.

"Ready?" Arthur asked, his arm coming around my waist as Captain Hayes began releasing the tether ropes.

"Ready," I confirmed, my heart already racing with anticipation.

The ground fell away slowly at first, then faster as the balloon caught an updraft and lifted us smoothly into the air. I watched the beach shrink beneath us, the estate coming into view in its entirety—the house perched on the cliff, the gardens spreading out in geometric patterns, the private dock where Arthur kept his boats.

"It's beautiful," I breathed, leaning back against Arthur's chest as we rose higher, the ocean spreading out endlessly in every direction.

"Not as beautiful as you," he murmured against my ear, and I felt him press a kiss to my temple.

We drifted over the water, the balloon moving with the wind currents in a way that felt both controlled and wild, like we were floating in a dream.

I turned my head to tell Arthur something—maybe how perfect this moment was, maybe how much I loved him—but the words died in my throat as I realized he wasn't looking at the view at all.

He was looking at me.

His eyes held that particular intensity that always made my stomach flip, that combination of love and desire and possessive certainty that said I was his entire world, that nothing else mattered except this moment, except us.

The movement brought my lips directly against his—accidental contact that sent electricity shooting through my entire body.

We both froze for a heartbeat, surprise making us still, and then Arthur was moving, his hand coming up to cup the back of my head as he deepened the kiss with deliberate intent.

I melted into him, my arms coming up to wrap around his neck as three months of separation dissolved into this single perfect moment—floating above the ocean, surrounded by sky and sunlight, with the man I loved kissing me like I was the air he needed to breathe.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, I found myself laughing—pure joy bubbling up from somewhere deep in my chest.

"Captain Hayes is right there," I said, my voice coming out slightly scandalized even as I couldn't stop smiling.

"Captain Hayes is a professional who's seen much worse," Arthur countered, but he was grinning too, that rare unguarded expression that made him look younger, happier, like all the weight he usually carried had temporarily lifted.

The balloon drifted for another hour, Captain Hayes occasionally adjusting our altitude with controlled burns that made the envelope billow and strain overhead. We stood pressed together in the basket, Arthur's arms wrapped around me from behind, both of us lost in the simple pleasure of being together, of having this perfect moment suspended in time.

Eventually, Captain Hayes guided us back toward the beach, the balloon descending with the same smooth control it had risen. When the basket finally touched down—gentle enough that I barely felt the impact—the ground crew was already there, securing the ropes and beginning the deflation process.

Arthur helped me out of the basket, his hands lingering on my waist even after my feet were firmly on the sand.

"Thank you," I said softly, reaching up to cup his face. "That was perfect. Absolutely perfect."

"We're not done yet," he said, that mysterious smile returning. "Come on."