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“Marry me, Elsa!” I proclaim.
“Oh, Tanner!” She swoons like a heroine on the cover of a Harlequin novel, and I lick the cake from her cleavage like a dirty fucking Fabio.
“Say it,” I order her. “Say it, for everyone to hear.”
“Oh, Tanner, I do! I do!”
“I do too,” I tell her, and we share a look that tells me we’re both about to dissolve into laughter if this carries on for much longer. “A thousand times. Every day. For the rest of my life.”
And our guests—our poor, confused fucking guests—well, I don’t think they know whether to applaud or just get into their fancy cars and go home with the understanding that there is such a thing as too much excitement for one night.
Honestly, I don’t fucking care either way.
I scoop Elsa up in my arms and carry her into the cathedral, shutting the doors behind us.
We did technically say our ‘I do’s, after all.
And with Elsa in my arms...
I might not technically be her husband yet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have some husbandly duties I’d like to attend to.
Chapter 33
Elsa
Chocolate ganache and strawberries peel off me and cascade down my couture wedding gown.
I paid a fucking fortune for this custom-designed dress, tailoring it to my massive bump, and now, it’s imprinted with wedding cake.
They warned me that a wedding dress is only a one-time wear and that I shouldn’t have spent as much as I did on it. But it’s my fucking wedding dress, and I will not be seen in anything less than spectacular.
Despite my body not being exactly how I pictured it would be on my wedding day, it’s still my—our—wedding day.
And I will—and do—look drop dead gorgeous.
But as I’m learning, life with Tanner is always an adventure. And one that I’ll never be able to plan for, so a few alterations will be needed occasionally.
I grab a handful of wedding cake, decorated with pink and white roses, and chuck it at Tanner’s face.
Distracted by my last successful hit, he barely notices, and it splatters on him. He gasps in surprise, and I laugh hysterically.
He looks so damn good in that tuxedo, especially now, covered in the finest and most delicious cake I’ve ever tasted.
If we weren’t in the middle of a cake fight, I would’ve taken a fork and eaten the cake all by myself—well, with the help of our baby. It’s a special occasion after all, and mommy does have her cravings.
Picking cake off his face, he slides a piece into his mouth, eats it, and licks his fingers one by one, his steel eyes penetrating me as he does, and my body convulses with desire.
His powers will never cease to amaze me. I’m dripping wet, hot, and needy as we’re standing in a church garden, surrounded by tulips and hydrangea bushes, and smothered in wedding cake.
Watching him work his magic, my eyes glaze over in heat. He’s a treat for the eyes. And I’d be more than happy to have him as an accompaniment to the cake.
Tanner and chocolate—a woman’s real-life fantasy.
He lunges toward me, and I run away from him.
“No, Tanner! Stop!” I laugh, loving how playful we are.
A crowd of whoever the fuck watches us, in awe of both of our casual vows and unconventional cutting of the cake.
