“Hold still, sweetheart,” he says, his voice —deep, rugged but at the same time soft— feathering on your skin. His fingers brush against your sides as he pulls the seat belt across your lap.

"There you go." The the buckle clicks into place and Thomas lingers for a moment, his gaze meeting yours.

It's a small, intimate ritual. One that Tommy is adamant on following each time you get in his car. There's no way his soon-to-be spouse is buckling their own seatbelt when he's around.

He loves doing it. He loves the way you look at him when he does.