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“You think?” She sounded disheartened, then shook her head. “Even if I do, it was worth it. Thank you for a fun night, Gloria. I love you.”
“I love you, too, sugar. It was fun. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said with a grin and a wave, then cupped Buddy’s chin and smiled up at him. “Take me to bed, you big stud.”
* * *
As predicted, Heavenly and Gloria were in rough shape the next day. After drawing the kitchen curtains to block the bright Nevada sun, Beck doled out the ibuprofen.
The girls sat at the kitchen counter with Buddy and Seth, who were coaxing them to drink water and orange juice to flush the alcohol from their systems. Beck prepared a high-sugar breakfast of French toast, fresh fruit, and bacon to boost their blood sugar since the booze had depleted it.
“I feel like I’ve been run over by a bus. I’m never drinking again,” Heavenly moaned, cupping her forehead with both hands.
Gloria, looking somehow both pale and green, wasn’t faring much better.
Buddy patted his bride’s back. “But what about the reception ceremony? I bought a case of special champagne to—”
“Shut up or I’ll puke all over you.” Gloria slid a bracing hand over her stomach.
He didn’t look fazed. “You came close last night.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”
Beck tried not to laugh since it would piss Gloria off. Seth was less subtle, chuckling aloud.
“After you get some food in your system, you’ll feel like a whole new woman,” Beck assured.
“Can’t you just open your black bag and give me a pill that will knock my ass out so I can sleep off this shit?”
“Yeah,” Heavenly seconded. “Maybe some Thorazine or something.”
Beck scowled. “Anti-psychotic medication?”
“Yes. Clearly, I must be psychotic for drinking so much last night.”
Seth laughed outright, then leaned in close. “I got a better idea. Beck and I can take you upstairs, turn on some music—extra loud—and do the helicopter thing you seemed so excited about last night.”
“Shh,” she scolded. “Don’t you dare. I have a headache.”
Beck, Buddy, and Seth didn’t even try to hold back, simply howled with laughter. Both girls covered their ears and glared.
“If you assholes are going to laugh at us, do it quietly,” Gloria snapped.
Beck laughed even harder—until he saw anger transform Buddy’s face. And when the seemingly mild plumber wrapped his beefy hand around Gloria’s throat, Beck dropped the spatula. Waves of tension poured off Seth. Visions of abusive johns who’d once used Gloria as a punching bag swarmed Beck’s brain.
He braced to launch over the counter and pound Buddy bloody when Gloria did something Beck swore he’d never see; she lowered her head and nuzzled her face against his forearm.
“Did you just call me an asshole, baby girl?” His voice was hauntingly calm.
“I did.” She lifted her eyelids, looking almost contrite.
“So you’re marrying an asshole today, huh?”
“No. I’m marrying my asshole today,” she purred as she kissed her way up his arm, to his lips. “And I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
Beck’s jaw nearly hit the floor. Gloria had always claimed she wasn’t into the Dom/sub scene, but their blatant power exchange proved otherwise. She might not have enjoyed it before, but somewhere along the way—probably when Buddy showed up—she’d changed her tune. The fact that Gloria, who had almost no faith in anyone, willingly handed her trust to Buddy was a shock.
Still reeling, Beck plucked up the spatula and finished breakfast.
A few minutes and feminine moans of appreciation later, he proved that whatever ill effects the alcohol was still having on the girls’ systems couldn’t hold out against the powdered sugar and syrup now filling their stomachs. After breakfast, Heavenly and Gloria perked up fast.
