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I groan when I see how close my husband has made it to us on his hands and knees, looking like a tiger ready to pounce on his pray.I’m toast.
With a mischievous smirk, Maceo reaches me and slowly starts to hike up my dress. Gauge grabs his wrist. “Best not do it, bro, unless you want to give the wedding guests a peek.”
Maceo’s dark brows pull together, assessing Gauge’s words. When the lightbulb clicks on in his head, it shines through his eyes like the diamonds I wear.
Full-on smile, Maceo throws the skirt of my dress over his head and buries himself between my thighs. I feel his body quake with laughter when he spots his prize.
Oh, Lord.This is beyond embarrassing. I keep a pleasant smile on my face, praying no one else knows. But when Maceo drives his head to my core and lashes out with his tongue, I nearly launch off Gauge’s knee like a rocket. He gets half-dozen swipes at my clit with his barbell before I squeeze his head with my thighs to stop him, which only makes him laugh more.
Thankfully my husband takes mercy on me and wraps his teeth around the silk garter, sliding it down my leg. He emerges from under my dress with rumpled hair, a champagne garter in his mouth, and a happy-as-fuck glint in his eyes.
He winks at me before pulling back on the garter like a sling-shot and nailing Gauge dead center in his forehead, making him yelp with surprise. “Your turn, motherfucker!”
Butch changes the music once again to Cyndi Lauper’sGirls Just Want to Have Funfor the bouquet toss. I’m half tempted to turn and hand it off to Opal, but judging by the voracious women in attendance, I decide against it—I’d like to survive my own wedding.
Maceo spins me in a couple circles with his hands over my eyes. I launch the flowers when the music stops like some wedding version of musical chairs.
A few women nosedive for it, causing it to roll right to Opal’s feet. She picks it up and gives Gauge a beaming smile—when fate calls, you better listen.
The rest of the evening is filled with laughter, singing, dancing, reminiscing—all in the arms of the man I’m fortunate to call my husband. Even though I hadn’t had any alcohol, aside from the few sips of champagne during the toasts, I feel drunk—light and full of happiness.
I take one long moment to look around at everyone we love and smile at the simple perfection of it all. Maceo wraps his arms around me from behind and sighs, seeing what I’m seeing. Our day turned out as special as Maceo had promised.
Maceo believes he’s sly, but I feel his hand dip to cup my lower abdomen, still completely flat.
Maybe there is a baby—or babies—in there, maybe not. Either way we’re going to start the next chapter of our lives with drooling, big babies added in the mix, and I can’t wait.
