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Chapter 38
Mysti May
4:08 PM SATURDAY
I look up into Brendon’s eyes, and hold on to him like he’s the only thing that’s keeping me standing. At this point, he just might be.
It might be the adrenaline, or because I just watched Brendon score a home run with my ex-husband’s head, or because I just remembered another one of the many mind-blowing orgasms, and I’m once again getting a little bit wet—but my knees are weak.
I thought that Brendon and I couldn’t be together…that I owed it to Norbert to be a good wife and not let him down.
But fuck Norbert!
Not that he’d like that, apparently.
That must’ve been what Jeff was apologizing for when I called him earlier, he must’ve been pissing his pants that I’d want to call off the wedding.
I can’t believe I was almost Norbert’s beard.
“Brendon…” I whisper breathlessly and hold his face close to mine. Slowly I curl my lips into a cocky smile, and he arches an eyebrow in curiosity.
“What?”
“I win.”
“What?” Brendon furrows his eyebrows a little bit, and he holds my waist but leans back, looking at me in confusion.
“I win. The bet we made?” I smile up at him. “I remember how last night ended… with time to spare.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, and though he’s clearly confident, I don’t miss the moment of hesitation that flies across his face. Does he still expect me to serve him divorce papers? After he just pulled me out of a murderous drug lord’s helicopter?
“I guess I’ll go get my black pen…” he says.
Brendon tries to step away, but I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him back to me. He doesn’t resist but instead lets me pull him in front of me. Brendon smiles down at me, and my heart skips a beat.
“No, you won’t.”
Standing here on the roof of a hotel in Las Vegas, after a night filled with gay orgies, illegal lobster fighting rings, burning rental cars, drug lord ex-husbands and golden dentures…I feel like I’m in college again. I feel as though I’m looking at Brendon for the first time, and cupid or whatever has just smashed me over the back of the head with a cinder block.
I’m fucking floored.
“Why won’t I?” Brendon asks, with that smug smile on his face. He knows what my answer is going to be—he just wants to hear me say it.
“Because I said until death do us part…” I look over at Alphonso. Blood seeps out of his nose, and there’s a little bit of spit dangling from the corner of his mouth as his feet twitch. “And you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“Damn right, I’m not.”
Brendon pulls me closer and kisses me. I lift my other hand up into his hair, gripping the short locks as we kiss like two people who just had a near-death experience…which, in all fairness, is exactly what we are.
His hand slips down my ass, squeezing it as we break away again and look out over the hotel roof. People on the ground are staring up at us, watching as Sammi, Becky, and Percy make out with their husbands.
“I can’t believe you didn’t give up on me.”
“What kind of idiot would I be if I did?” Brendon asks, with an expression of disbelief.
I shrug one shoulder, “I don’t know. I just can’t think of anyone else who’d go toe-to-toe with Alphonso.”
“Well, I heard the way he was talking to you, and no one talks to my wife like that, or threatens her life.”
