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“Not a chance in hell,” she laughs. “That’s all you’re getting. Enjoy them, put them somewhere safe, so when I’m old and saggy, you can remember the good ol’ days.”
“Spoilsport,” I grumble. “But seriously, baby,” I flip through the images with a smile like a kid hopped up on sugar, “these are amazing, and so fucking sassy of you to deliver them twenty minutes before I have to stand in front of Santa Claus. You better sin, woman, because I’m going to hell, and wherever I go, you come with me.” I stop on my favorite and groan at the reminder. “I swear, I could blow my load just looking.” I take it from the box and turn it to her burning face. “Wanna explain this one?”
Kit’s ass. That’s what it is. That’sallit is.
On her hands and knees in a tiny black thong, all I see is her heart shaped ass and the tiny birthmark that Christina Cooper now knows exists.
She blushes furiously and avoids my gaze. “I thought you might like that one… It was… an embarrassing time for us all.”
“So, I guess Christina is one of the girls now, then, huh? Since you’ve shown her everything you own.”
“Yeah, she’s actually really cool. Did you meet Evie, too?”
I burst out laughing at Jimmy’s fuck up. “I did. Babe, you should’ve heard Christina–”
“Tina–”
“Huh?”
“We call her Tina,” she clarifies with a smile.
“Well, Tina laid Jimmy out. Seriously, she terrified him.”
With wide, eager eyes, her blush washes away and a smile replaces it. “What happened?”
“He taught Evie her first curse word. I swear, Tina’s scary as hell. He almost ran away to cry.” Putting the images back in the box and closing the lid, I slide it under the bed, climb on top, and pull Kit down so her face rests on my chest. “He begged her not to tell you guys.”
She snorts and slides her fingertips between the buttons of my shirt. “Jesus, I bet she can be scary. She’s a mama bear through and through. Evie’s adorable though, right?”
“She really is…” We lay like this for a full half hour and let the heat of the day wash away. She doesn’t take her heavy dress off, nor does she want to shower, she just wants to rest. So that’s what we do.
I study her wedding ring, and mine, more often than not. She’s mine now. Really, truly mine. No one can separate us, and just knowing that has eased the tight ball of anxiety that’s been heavy in my stomach since December. Back then, every medical question I asked, everything I did, everything I suggested, it all had to go through Jack, becausehewas her next of kin. He was great about it, he was helpful, and he cared about my feelings. But now, I’m her husband.
No one will ever separate us again.
“We should go back downstairs,” Kit lazily sighs. Lifting her torso over mine, she strokes my bottom lip with her thumb. “We can’t stay gone for much longer.”
“Are you sure you don’t want a nap? We can stay gone as long as we want. Hell, we can sneak out now, go home, and spend a quiet evening together before anyone even realizes we left.”
She smiles. “I’m sure. I feel fine, now. Plus, I really wanna go down. We’re only having one wedding ever. I don’t want to miss it.” She taps my stomach. “Come on, you owe me a dance.”
* * *
At my nod, Mike picks up his microphone and tells everyone to shut the hell up. He has such a way with words. “It’s my honor to introduce to you all, the brand-new, Mr. and Mrs. Bobby Kincaid.”
I lead my bride to the middle of the dance floor and spin her out with a laugh. The band strums their guitars, the drums start up lightly, and the sandy haired front man begins the opening lyrics to Jason Mraz’sI Won’t Give Up.
I clasp Kit’s hand and bring her in close, just like that first time in the darkness of Club 188, but this time, there are no sweaty palms, no nervous stammering. We’re just two people so deeply in love with each other, our hearts pound and they press together as we sway.
Staring into her blue eyes and peppering kisses to her face whenever I damn well feel like it, we sway and hum, and we forever burn this memory, this song, into our brains.
Toward the end of the song, couples walk onto the dance floor and join us, though I say no to every man who looks our way.
No one’s cutting me out.
No one’s taking her.
Not yet.
George spins past happily, and my mom dances nearby with Mike.
Kit leans forward and steps onto her toes to whisper in my ear. “Bobby. Look.” She nods to our table, then swinging her gaze back to mine, her blues turn worried, instead of the happiness that have been in them all afternoon.
Turning slowly, I study our bridal table. Of course we sat as our usual group; Kit, me, Aiden, Jon, Jim, Iz, Tink, and Jack. No one brought dates, we didn’t want to seat random chicks with us. We just wanted it to beus. But with that decision, comes Izzy and Jimmy seated at the same table.
No one said anything out loud. No one forced either of them into any particular chair, but still, they managed to sit on very opposite ends and have avoided speaking a single word to each other since we got here. Even in a room full of people that love them, they both sit and stare at their shoes as loneliness envelops them.
They’re not fighting. They’re not angry or cold. They’re both just unbearably sad, and as everyone vacates the table to dance, their sadness is only more pronounced as they sit together… but alone.
