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“We better do some mingling. The sooner we get this reception over, the quicker I can get you naked.”

Regretfully, I step back from him, muttering, “Fucking Gigi.”

“I know, right?”

We both look in her direction, and she looks a little regretful as she lifts a glass of juice, mouthing sorry in our direction.

Hound holds his beer up to us, not sharing an ounce of the remorse his wife is displaying. I think if the tables were turned, and we were giving the chance to disappear, I probably wouldn’t regret that time spent with my spouse either.

He winks at me as if he can read my mind, and I have to laugh.

Happiness and laughter fill the clubhouse, couples retelling their own wedding stories, newer members fitting in perfectly. I even catch Boomer with a grin on his face a couple of times.

Then my eyes land on Spade, the only man in the room who can’t even pretend to be happy, but his irritation isn’t directed toward us. His eyes are locked across the room on Sylvie Davis, a woman that was introduced earlier as Faith’s best friend.

She’s chatting with a guy I recognize from Dad’s work, and Spade does not look impressed. So maybe it’s a little personal for him.

“What’s that all about?” Landon asks when he notices where my eyes have landed.

I shrug. “No clue.”

“That,” Gigi says as she slips her arm around Landon’s waist, “is drama.”

Landon chuckles when I cock an eyebrow, wanting to know more.

“Sylvie hates Spade,” Gigi explains, but she leans in closer to deliver the juicy gossip. “They hooked up one night, and he doesn’t remember it. Then the idiot had the nerve to flirt with her like they’d just met.”

My eyes widen. “That’s horrible!”

Gigi shrugs. “That’s Cerberus.”

“Well, hopefully they can contain their drama for tonight,” Landon mutters, no doubt worried someone will ruin our night.

“Oh, I don’t think there will be a problem tonight. Dad hasn’t told Spade that he’s going with her to clear some stuff up back home. I can say I’m a little annoyed we won’t get to see that unfold.” Gigi drops that ball and then walks away, her eyes locked on her husband across the room.

I chuckle. “She’s like a tornado.”

“Always has been,” Landon says before making a big show of sipping his beer. “Wanna dance, Mr. Andrews?”

“We talked about that,” I mutter, trying not to smile.

“And I was adamant that I’m not changing my last name to TheEws.”

“We can change it to anything. Our last names end the same. It just makes sense.”

He shakes his head, unwilling to get into an argument with me an hour after getting married, but I also know it will be brought up not long after we’re given some privacy.

He doesn’t know it, but I’ve already made up my mind to change my last name. I even discussed it with my father because I didn’t want there to be an argument later, but Dad was fine with it.

Landon’s last name is Kid’s last name and that link to Cerberus gives him a leg up in the Corps. He’ll still have to work hard, but it will open doors for him. I’d never deny him that. Not to mention, I don’t know how many times I pictured myself being called Mr. Andrews growing up. It’s one more of my fantasies I get to live out.

But Landon can stew on it for now.

I wink at him, a promise to talk about it later, and the way his eyes widen tells me he’s not giving up easily.

I sure hope not because that would make life incredibly boring.

Chapter 39

Landon

“You’re sure you’re okay with staying here tonight?”

Rick’s brows furrow. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

I have to shrug. “It’s our wedding night. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t want like a hotel room or something.”

He looks at me like I’ve said the dumbest thing in the world.

We have plans for a honeymoon, a gift from my parents right after graduation before I leave for the military, but tonight is a special night.

“That would be a waste of money.” He points past me to the bed. “This is perfectly fine. Wait. Do you want a hotel room?”

I shake my head, stepping closer to him. “I’ve gotten really good at burying my moans into the pillow.”

I run my hands down the front of his suit jacket, wanting him naked but also still needing to admire him so dressed up.

Although we pretended we were going with a group, we didn’t spend our proms together. My stubbornness prevented that from happening, but Rick has urged me more than once to let go of all the regrets we share so we can move forward.

“What’s that look for?” I ask when he doesn’t respond or even smile at my comment.

He shakes his head, pressing his lips to mine.

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