Marriage (Red, White &) Blues (Unexpectedly Married #2)

Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

I didn’t get married to have to sleep alone. I mean, American-married. I didn’t get American-married to have to sleep alone. The man who wore my gold band currently circled the airspace over Detroit Metro. He’d shown after Chicago. But then had to fly out to London, denying my request to come with because of my healing collarbone, and all the meetings. For the entire duration of the trip. I mean, other than sleeping. We decided it’d be better if I skipped it this time.

But my mom and Carl were getting married this weekend. And just like he promised, he hopped on a plane to be my date the first moment he could.

The arrival board announced his Delta flight from London: On Time. And oh, man, I wanted a hug. My husband gave great hugs. I craved his hugs. And kisses. And smiles and jokes. The election couldn’t get here soon enough. Plus, with all his traveling there hadn’t been time to deep dive into who actually set me up. We had to get on that to get our life back.

Why did landing a plane take so long? I sat. Then I stood and paced. Then I sat again, sighing heavily at the ceiling—but the ceiling knew I aimed that sigh at the sky. I held no animosity toward the ceiling. It kept us solidly under its protection from the weather and the loud jet engines. I liked the ceiling. Now, the sky, or more aptly, the pilot circling that plane in the sky— grrr . Honestly, grrr … To me, that said everything.

Give me my damn husband!

Ten more minutes passed, ten minutes or fifty years, I wasn’t sure any longer. But then the first passengers began trickling off the ramp. I craned my neck to try to see if I could see Blake, but the only ones in view were an elderly couple, a buff dude-bruh, and an exasperated woman carrying a screaming toddler in one arm while rolling a bag behind her. A man approached them and her eyes went huge even as they teared up. The man wore army fatigues and he picked both of them up in a giant bear hug, swinging them both around.

She audibly cried and I heard her say, “You’re home,” making me think he’d surprised the hell out of her. He set them down to take the toddler from her arms. The little guy settled some, especially when the man shushed him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Then, holding the little one, he wrapped the other arm tighter around the woman and kissed her like a hero in an erotic romance novel. My heart swelled, happy for them.

“Glory!”

I twisted my body around to see my dream man speed-walking down the ramp toward me, very much a reality in his sexy business suit, as if he’d left his last meeting to hop on a plane home to me. I started walking, then going faster, and faster until I broke out into a run and we collided, or collided as much as he’d let us, given my broken collarbone. “ Glory ,” he repeated in a whisper right before giving me another novel moment. Our lips pressed together. Our bodies pressed together. He dragged his fingers through my hair, then ran the hand down my back to rest on my butt. I smiled against his mouth.

“Husband,” I said. “Missed you.”

“Missed you, too, sweetheart.”

“Let’s go home. You are way overdressed, my love.” And I winked at him.

“Caught a taxi to the airport after my last meeting. I had a wife to get home to and didn’t want to waste time changing.”

“I have dinner waiting for us,” I replied. “Croc-Pot chili and cornbread.”

“Dear Lord.” He kissed me again. “If you weren’t already my wife, I’d marry you.”

“And just so you know, as long as we’re careful, we’re getting naked.”

“Sweetheart, the chili and your company are enough,” he said, pressing a third kiss, this time to the side of my head.

“Not for me.”

Blake released his arm from around my waist to grip my hand, dragging me behind him toward baggage claim. “Gloria Parker, I’m not risking your health or comfort.”

“No sex is hurting my comfort,” I argued.

“You went for years before we met.”

“Yes. Then I married you and now it’s torture.”

“We’ll survive.”

Later, we sat on the sofa in the living room, eating chili and cornbread, with our clothes on .

The world felt right, complete… whole when we were together even without getting naked, although I was getting antsy.

“When’s your next doctor’s appointment?”

“Tomorrow.”

“If they let you take the sling off and give us the okay, then we’ll make up for all the missed opportunities.”

Well, it didn’t help with the urges in my nether region, but it was something.

The next morning, he joined me at MedExpress where they checked me over.

“Let’s see how you feel without the sling,” the doctor said. I squeezed my eyes shut, dipping my head as if in prayer and said, “ Thank you .”

Blake helped me unhook the sling and the doctor proceeded with the exam. At the end she said, “You don’t appear to be in any pain. Just take it easy on yourself.”

“Sex?” I blurted out.

“If you’re comfortable with it and are careful, I think it will probably be fine.”

I slowly turned my head to my husband letting a sly smile spread across my lips. “You’re in so much trouble.”

He barely shook his head and leaned down, grumbling in my ear, “Alpha in the sheets.”

Twenty minutes later we were home. Blake shut the door behind us. He leaned his shoulder against the door with his ankles crossed, swinging the keyring around on his finger. His dimple making a stunning appearance as he stared me down with eyes so darkened by want that I couldn’t discern between pupil and iris. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked, taking a step off the wall. His gaze dropped to my mouth and then lower. I basically went supernova. He charged forward and I stepped back until we hit the sofa and I dropped down. He caged me with a hand to each side of my thighs, then pressed a kiss to my lips, our tongues danced together. My whole body shuddered. He unbuttoned my jeans, yanking my undies down my legs at the same time. But as I was sitting there naked from the waist down, he pushed up from between my legs, sauntering to the kitchen. I heard him open one of the canisters on my counter and he came back unwrapping one of those Dum·Dum suckers, tossing the paper onto the coffee table before dropping back down between my thighs. He brought the candy to my mouth.

“Suck,” he ordered and holy hell , I was so turned on. I sucked it into my mouth. Root Beer. It didn’t stay in my mouth long, only long enough to wet it, because he moved the stick down to my sex, and spreading me wide, he swirled the candy around my clit—yes, I finally used the word. The moment definitely called for it. Then he pulled the stick away, using his mouth instead.

“Root Beer flavored Glory. I could get used to this.” He rubbed the candy again, this time with more pressure. My head fell back against the sofa and he sucked harder. The spasms started and I needed more. While I gripped the edges of the cushion, I pushed myself against his face.

He tore his mouth away, gripping the back of my neck and hair, pressing a hard kiss to my lips again all the while using the sucker to bring me to orgasm. My heartbeats hurt. I gasped. I screamed. I begged for more.

“Time to fuck my wife,” he said, and I’d never heard sweeter words. “Legs up. Feet on the cushion. Spread wide for me, Glory,” he commanded and I wasted no time complying. He unbuttoned his jeans, tearing open the zipper, freeing himself. He gave his cock a firm tug. It glistened with a drop of pre-cum. The spasms were starting again just from watching him. He jerked it again, silky and rock hard. “You ready?” he asked, and I nodded quickly because his cock and I had spent way too many nights apart.

He lined up, knees to the cushion in front of me, shoving inside. The stretch from enduring our forced celibacy burned. Blake moved his hands to the back of the sofa on each side of my shoulders. His head and shoulders towered above me as he began thrusting slightly forward and up. With each stroke he glided his cock against my clit— said it again ! —and nothing in the world prepared me for the level of orgasmic explosion about to hit us both. Without jostling my upper half too much, he made every stroke count. Beautiful. Rough. Every muscle from my belly button down vibrated then seized up. He kept going, kept pounding away forward and up. And finally, he came on a roar, filling me, spilling out of me. My husband, ladies and gentlemen .

When he pulled out, he dropped into the seat next to me. “How’d that work for you?” he asked, with his chest still heaving and a sweat glistened brow.

Somehow, I managed to pat his chest. “You know, once you get back into the swing of things, I’m sure it’ll get better,” I teased but he saw right through me, leaning in, he erotic romance novel kissed me and I found my happy place again.

We both slept soundly that night, judging by the way we woke up in the exact same positions as we’d fallen asleep in. Not the first time that happened for us. Blake let me shower first, then while he showered, I dressed for my mother’s wedding. Given the time of year, I dressed in autumn colors. Today, I picked a dress that I’d fallen in love with one of the days Pen and I had gone bridesmaid shopping together. A perk to having a brilliant sculptor for a best friend, she got to set her own hours. We’d spent plenty of time together while Ant worked at his office downtown.

It felt so freeing to have that damn sling off. I felt beautiful today. Blake walked into the bedroom wearing only a towel and had the nerve to say, “ Whoa ” to me.

Me? Uh… my husband only wore a towel. “We don’t have time,” I said.

He showed me his dimple. “Time for what?” he asked.

“You’re the one who sauntered in here in only a towel, mister.”

“And you’re the one wearing that… that… swath of spank bank currency.”

I coughed on saliva. “‘Spank bank currency’?”

“Woman, no man who sees you in that dress will think of anything else while he’s slapping it tonight.”

“I’m pretty sure gay men wouldn’t blink an eye at me in this dress.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll be giving a few of them a bisexual awakening.”

“You are an idiot,” I whispered because despite my protest that we didn’t have time, he pressed his body against my back and moving my hair with his chin, he pressed kisses to the back of my neck as he slowly slid the zipper up. My very willing tickle box spasmed from his closeness, his freshly showered scent, and his manly tickle rod pressing against my bottom.

“But I’m your idiot,” he whispered back while gliding the bronze fabric up my legs and over to rest at my waist. Then he slid the satin thong down until he could widen my legs. He reached around to touch me, building me up in the teasing way he and I both loved, and then we made time. We made time a couple of times.

The power of the dress. A bronze, off-the-shoulder, curve-hugging pencil dress that fell to just below my knees and had a long slit up the back. Seriously, the slit stopped just below my butt. I felt sexy in this dress. Together with my four-inch bronze pumps, I felt like a movie star. Blake requested I wear my hair down, showcasing my curls. Carl’s daughter Lola had the same dress. She and I were my mother’s bridesmaids. I looked forward to meeting my new step-sister. Because she lived eight and a half hours away, way up in the UP (Upper Peninsula for those of you not in the know), and was a college student, she couldn’t make it down any sooner.

Blake wore a gray suit, and he wore it well. White shirt. One shade lighter tie. The man wore gorgeous like a hunter wore camo.

Blake used the GPS to drive us to the location of the wedding. They’d chosen an elegant barn outside of Ann Arbor. While Blake was led into the outside garden by an usher to the front row on the bride’s side, I was ushered to the off-limits area where the bridal party convened.

My mother, dressed in a simple off-white satin gown with spaghetti straps and sophisticated V-neckline, her hair twisted up with baby’s breath flowers, not only looked beautiful, but she looked happy .

Carl’s daughter approached. “Lola,” I said, giving her a warm hug, “it’s good to meet you.”

“Finally,” she said, laughing. “I’ve been so nervous about today.”

“We are beyond thrilled to have you and your dad joining the family. My husband is out in his seat. I’ll introduce you after the ceremony.”

“My dad wouldn’t stop talking about how wonderful the two of you were when they went out to Vermont.”

“He talked all about how proud of you he is, too.”

Before we could get too much more small talk in, the music started and we all scrambled to our places. A happy breath left my lips as we began our walk down the runner.

All the chairs were situated under a white trellis with ivy-covered lattice decorated with flowing, over-the-top orange African daisies, blood-red garden mums, yellow marguerite daisies, sunflowers, black-eyed Susans, coneflowers, and roses in bouquets and overflowing pots.

Pen and Ant, and Sierra and… Pete? As her plus one ? Time for Sierra to spill. No more of this “we slept together a couple of times.” I raised an eyebrow at her as I passed, but Sierra avoided all eye contact. A smiling Pen, however, mouthed, “ I know .”

I took a moment, glancing at Carl, who beamed at my mother. Yes, he looked handsome in his black suit tux, but it was how he continued to look at my mother like she was his every dream come true. My father used to look at her like that. It hurt my heart that my father was no longer here to look at her like that, but knowing that my mother found love again, well, that made my heart full.

She handed her flowers to me, which I gladly accepted, to allow them to face each other. Carl took both of my mother’s hands in his, and he recited his vows. Then she recited hers and they were married. Another bittersweet moment because my mom was no longer Mrs. Kowalski. Tears filled my eyes as I thought about how my dad, or his legacy, had disappeared at that moment. I was Gloria Parker. And my mother was now Mrs. Brown. For better or for worse.

“You okay?” Blake mouthed and I nodded, at a loss for words.

I shook my head clear in time to see them kiss and walk back up the runner as husband and wife. The next thing I knew I was swept inside the barn full of thousands of twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling, highlighting all the flowers on each table, along the floorboard, and pretty much everywhere lights could be lit. It looked magical, like millions of fireflies dancing around the room.

We ate prime rib and mashed potatoes, and I drank a Manhattan. Then the speeches began and I grabbed a glass of champagne in order to get through mine. As her only child, I felt a duty to tell the room what my mother’s happiness meant to me and how glad I was to have Carl as a part of my family now.

On the dance floor, Blake held me close as we swayed to a slow song that I didn’t know because I didn’t keep up with the latest music trends. Si, Pen, and I had bonded years ago over our old souls when it came to music—you know, those songs from the latter half of the twentieth century that nobody admitted to liking but everybody sang along to in the grocery store when the song came on overhead.

Pen, Ant, Sierra, and Pete joined us, forming a little huddle.

“Beautiful wedding,” Pen said.

“It is,” I replied.

“Your mom looks gorgeous,” Sierra chimed in. Agreed.

“How long you in town for?” Ant asked Blake.

“I’ve taken the week,” he answered, “but there’s still a lot of work to do.”

Ant nodded. “I’ve got connections too. Give me what you’ve got and I’ll get people on it. No one hurts our Gloria.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll get the file.”

“Bring it with you,” Ant said.

“With him?” I asked.

“Pete’s here for the week. Sierra took the time off work. We’re heading up to the cabin. We thought you two might join us.”

Sierra… Time off work? She never told me.

“Wipe that look off your face, girlie,” Sierra said. “I finished a project early. Dad said to take a break because I’d need the rest to face the next one. With Pete showing up, and Blake’s arrival, we decided last night while you and the hubs were love-shacking it up, as you should when your man comes to town.” Don’t think I didn’t notice the look Pete shot Sierra when she said ‘the hubs.” I was so getting to the bottom of this.

“Glory, what do you say?” Blake asked.

“Given we’re currently apart more than we’re together, I’ll be wherever you are.”

“I guess that means we’re in.” The way he made the effort with my friends meant everything. He liked them. He wanted these friendships. Good God, I melted against him. His arms grew tighter and we swayed slower.

By the end of the night, me too tipsy to walk a straight line, my husband carried me inside the house and up to bed.

The next morning, he’d placed two ibuprofen and a latte by the bed. I wasn’t hung over, per se, but a twinge of a headache messed with my good humor, so I popped the pills into my mouth and swallowed them with a swig of coffee. Then I went searching for Blake. I heard him downstairs talking on his phone.

When he saw me, he said, “Got to go,” then hung up. “Sweetheart, how are you?”

“Thank you for the coffee,” I replied, draping my arms around his waist as I pushed up on my tiptoes to kiss him.

“You’re welcome.” He brushed some hair behind my ear. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to get a big head.” He started laughing and for that, I grabbed his junk, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Now, now, wife… we have to pack. We’re going up north today.” Blake removed my hand.

“Did I interrupt?” I asked, pointing to the pocket where he’d shoved his phone after hanging up his call.

He shook his head. “Same shit, different day.”

“What if we can’t find out why I’m being set up?” I asked.

Blake frowned at me. “Not an option. We find out and counter.”

We find out and we counter.

I just wanted it to stop.