Page 78 of AJ’s Fire

“Holy fuck,” I concurred.

Jamie lowered his head and his voice even more. “You know how Josh always talks about …”

“Anal?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Uh-huh,” I agreed, and we grinned at each other like idiots.

“You dumbasses,” Jackson countered, which earned him a “language,” from my niece. Jamie and I pulled in closer to the table, and Jamie reached a hand out for Jackson to shake. Jackson nodded as he shook it.

I positioned my chair closer to Jackson and placed a possessive arm around the top of his chair as I watched him play tic-tac-toe with Vera.

Epilogue

Jackson—Three Years Later

“Holy fuck, if I have to hear the word ‘wedding’ one more time! …” AJ had just hung up the phone with his stepmom, but it was me who was yelling. “She. Is. Obsessed! I don’t know how they’re handling it. Seriously, AJ! We talk to her every day.” Yes, I said we because if AJ didn’t pick up the phone, Nat knew his loving boyfriend was rarely far from him and would never show Natalie the disrespect of not picking up when she called.

And AJ and I were rarely apart. We still worked together, thanks to an understanding chief and lieutenant and some very clear human resources guidelines laid down by the FDNY. We had basically lived together since those first few months, eventually giving up AJ’s apartment when the anniversary of the lease that neither AJ nor the property owner had paid any attention to in about ten years approached.

We spent every holiday together, juggling the forces of nature that were Natalie Marchetti-Gordon and Mandy Dorso as we carefully planned our time off and where we’d spend each holiday. We still helped with Vera and remained her primary adults for all things dance related. The dance moms were equal parts disappointed for their single friends and thrilled to have a queer couple in their mix, and I’d attended many practices and recitals. I even dragged my mom to one, one time. Big mistake as I’d been hearing about all of her friends with grandchildren ever since.

My parents and I had come to a compromise, and Emily Wyecrest and I both held seats on the Dorso Electronics and Dorso Foundation boards. Emily was currently president of the Foundation board. I was happily a member-at-large on both. The merger had gone through, and Dorso Animation began working with Wyecrest Entertainment on movies and other entertainment.

Jamie and Devon were getting married, and we were planning to head up to Hampstead for the ceremony. This turn of events had Natalie on the phone with us and other members of her family—Every. Single. Day.

I loved Natalie, but she was officially overboard with color palettes and menus and tuxedo fittings.

AJ put the phone down and slumped on the couch. “And we’ve still got weeks to go. I don’t know how Jamie and Devon are surviving.” He huffed. “I’m ready to go out, find a wedding planner, and curse in their unsuspecting face just to relieve all the tension.”

AJ and I rarely kept anything from each other, but a thought crossed my mind. I opened my mouth but then reined it back in.

“What.” See, I couldn’t really keep anything from my love.

I crawled into his lap and kissed some of the wedding-induced stress away. Then I buried my head in his neck, not wanting to look at him as I said, “Can you imagine when it’s our turn? There’ll be fucking headlines when the only son of the great Riley and Mandy Dorso marries his firefighter boyfriend, son of the poet Clifford Gordon.” He’d kept his hands splayed on the couch, but after my mumbled thought, he wrapped his arms around me.

“No, I absolutely cannot imagine that. Your mom and Nat battling for wedding supremacy? And I hadn’t even thought about the press. But Riley Jackson Dorso the Second’s wedding is going to be like some American version of a royal circus. Holy shit, Jax, how are we going to survive that?” He lifted my face to his with a gentle finger under my chin. Face-to-face, centimeters apart, he whispered, “We’re barely surviving Jamie’s.”

“You’ve thought about it?” I asked.

“A wedding? No, clearly not nearly enough based on how much time Nat is putting into this one. But getting married. Of course. I maybe even talked to Jamie about where he got Devon’s ring, and …” I kissed him then so thoroughly that it was the question and the answer all in one. Not that either of us had come out and asked.

“And I’ll sign a prenup. Whatever you need.” I glared at him, but he continued. “I know you and I know you don’t need it, but if it gives your parents some comfort, I’ll sign whatever their lawyers throw at us. Don’t get all up in your head about it. It’s not a big deal. I don’t get the Dorso fortune, and you don’t get my collection of vintage vinyl.” I glared again, but AJ stuck out his hand. “Shake.”

“You’re ridiculous, Alexander Jeremy.”

“No, I’m not. You can buy me a car for the wedding, though,” he said.

After I’d shaken his hand, he ran to the guest bedroom as I yelled at the fluttering hair on the back of his head, “You hate to drive.”

He returned with a tiny box.

I went to stand up, but on his way down to one knee, AJ put a hand on my thigh, keeping me in place. “I’ve been trying to get you up to the cabin for months.”

“We’ve had a lot going on. Tuxedo fittings, dance recitals, board meetings, your promotion ceremony, LT.” I smiled at AJ, marveling at him down on one knee even as we were our usual joking selves.

“Riley Jackson Dorso, will you not have a ridiculous, expensive, anxiety-inducing ceremony with me but still pledge to be with me forever as my lawfully wedded, no-rights-to-your-inheritance husband?”