Chapter 12 #2
I hadn’t realized before how hesitant our kisses had started out before, like with the first brush I’d always been asking for permission and Esther had been slow to give it.
She had always leaned into the kiss after a moment’s pause, but it had been almost tentative.
The kiss after our wedding was different.
From the moment I got my lips on hers, Esther was fully and enthusiastically participating.
It made my head swim until I completely forgot where we were.
The sound of roaring laughter was the only thing that snapped me out of the fog and kept my hands from straying to some very interesting places.
“There are children present!” Myla yelled jokingly.
Esther pulled away and buried her face against my chest in embarrassment.
“Jesus,” someone said from behind me. “I think I’m pregnant after seeing that.”
“Esther would be too, if she wasn’t already,” someone else joked.
“Hey wife,” I murmured against her hair, ignoring everyone. “You ready to get some food and presents?”
“Actually, I’d like to stay right where I am,” she muttered ruefully, pressing her forehead harder against my sternum.
I laughed. Now that it was done, we were married, shit was settled, I felt lighter than I had since we’d found her in that cabin.
There were no decisions left to make. We still had to deal with the Sons of Calgary and shit was probably going to get worse before it got better, but for the moment, I felt pretty fucking good with Esther in my arms and the security of the clubhouse around us.
“Congratulations,” Nova sang, hugging both of us at once.
“Can’t believe you’re married before I am,” Rumi joked, slapping me on the back.
“Not my fault Nova won’t marry you.” I shrugged, my lips twitching.
“Oh, she’s gonna marry me,” he shot back.
“Eventually,” Nova said easily, laughing when he made a grab for her. “I’m wearing your ring. Quit bitching!”
Esther’s head shot up as they walked away, arguing. “Do you like your ring?” she asked out of nowhere. “I wanted to get you a gold one but your mom said that one would be better.”
I looked down at the black silicone ring on my finger, rubbing my pinky against it to make it turn. It felt weird there, but not bad. “I like it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Gotta take it off to work, sugar,” I said, smoothing the hair away from her face. Jesus Christ, I loved her hair. “If I forget, though, this one’ll be easy enough to cut off if I get it caught on somethin’.”
“Oh,” she said, looking down at my hand. “That makes sense.”
“Plus if I lose it, it’ll be easy to replace.”
“It’s your wedding ring,” she replied, staring at me.
“Yeah.”
“You better not lose it.”
I grinned. “I’ll do my best,” I promised. “You like yours?”
Esther lifted her hand and spread her fingers, looking at her ring.
It wasn’t big or fancy, but I’d thought it was pretty when my gram had pulled me aside at dinner, brought me into her room, opened her jewelry box and told me to choose one.
I’d argued at first, but she’d made a good argument about not buying something new when we’d need money with a baby on the way.
“I love it,” Esther said finally.
“It was my gram’s,” I confessed awkwardly. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to give her a secondhand ring. It wasn’t like I was hurting for money. I could’ve bought her something else, nothing too big, but new.
“Really?” Esther asked, her eyes lighting up as she looked back at the ring. “That’s awesome.”
“If you want somethin’ else—”
“No way,” she said, cutting me off as she closed her hand into a fist and clutched it to her chest. “This one’s mine.”
“Okay,” I conceded, lifting one hand in surrender. “Keep it.”
“I will,” she said firmly. She looked over her shoulder at the rowdy crowd, currently jostling for food and generally causing chaos. “Should we go mingle, husband?” The last word was tentative, like she was testing it out.
“Let’s do it.”
We made our way into the crowd and spent the next couple of hours visiting and eating and accepting congratulations from everyone we talked to.
Not for the first time, I was grateful for my people.
Not just family, but the entire club had shown up for my wedding, and every single one of them congratulated us.
There were no sidelong looks at Esther’s belly or knowing looks at me reminding us that our wedding hadn’t exactly been planned.
They were just stoked to be there and happy for us, no matter what the circumstances were—at least outwardly.
I was thankful for that, especially when I realized that Esther had stopped trying to shield the front of her dress and was comfortable enough to spin slowly in a circle, arms loosely at her sides, showing it off to my gramps as he made noises of appreciation.
Even though my aunts and uncles and cousins and siblings kept her busy, I knew she felt the lack of her family being present. There were moments throughout the day when I’d catch her, almost frowning and staring at nothing, but they were gone almost as soon as I’d noticed them.
We’d filled ourselves to the brim with food and cake, listened to rowdy but surprisingly tame toasts—I figured my mother had words with most of the boys threatening some kind of dismemberment if they embarrassed Esther too badly—and the crowd was finally thinning when I cornered Esther near the end of the bar.
“You wanna get out of here?” I murmured, leaning down to kiss the side of her neck. Someone had turned on the sound system and the roar of chatter and laughter was drowned out by a song that had half the people booing and the others cheering.
“We can’t just leave,” she replied, her voice barely noticeable above the noise.
“The fuck we can’t,” I argued, pulling back to look at her. “Sugar, they won’t even notice we’re gone.”
Esther turned to look at the crowd, and I followed her gaze.
Aunt Farrah and Uncle Casper were dancing.
Well, Aunt Farrah was dancing while Uncle Casper stood still, watching her with amusement.
Gramps was reclined back lazily on a couch, Gram beside him with her legs thrown over his thighs.
Titus was sitting next to them, scowling.
He’d made it clear on more than one occasion over the past few days that he wasn’t against me and Esther getting married, but he was pissed as hell he couldn’t tell Noel that her sister was fine.
My dad had been watching him closely to make sure he kept his mouth shut.
Rumi and Nova were playing grab-ass over by the pool tables while Micky leaned over Rhett, helping him line up a shot.
Kara and Charlie were arguing with Draco and Curtis about something, their arms flying around in irritation while Bishop watched, a small smile of amusement on his face.
Uncle Will was slow dancing with my cousin Rebel.
Aunt Rose was frowning at Jamison and then glaring at Uncle Mack.
Brody and Olive were throwing back shots further down the bar while Meg wrinkled her nose at them and sipped her soda.
There were kids running around everywhere.
Needless to say, everyone in the room was doing their own thing and paying absolutely no attention to us.
I looked back at Esther and raised my eyebrows.
“Okay,” she conceded slowly. “Are you sure no one will mind?”
“I’m sure,” I replied, grabbing her hand and tugging her quickly toward the door. I didn’t think anyone would mind, but I had a feeling if they saw us trying to leave, there’d be a whole lot of teasing that she wouldn’t enjoy in the slightest.
Esther giggled as I pulled her outside and jogged toward the Mustang.
“What in the world?” she yelped as we rounded Rumi’s truck.
“Those motherfuckers,” I hissed under my breath.
The Mustang had a line of cans tied to the bumper, balloons hanging from the door handles, and shit written all over the windows. I’d know that handwriting anywhere.
“People still do this?” Esther asked, laughing. “I thought it was only in movies.”
“My asshole sister does,” I replied, letting go of her hand to untie the cans from my bumper.
“When did she do this?” she asked, going closer so she could look at the Just Married writing on the back window.
“Probably while we were eating,” I said with a huff, using my pocket knife to cut the rope. “That better be dry erase marker, or I’m going to kill her.”
She stuck a finger out and ran it over a little heart drawn on the corner of the window, showing the little red flecks to me when she finished.
“Good,” I grumbled. I ripped off the balloons and popped them with my knife, yanking open her door.
“You’re not really mad, are you?” she asked quietly, moving toward me.
“Irritated,” I clarified.
“It’s sweet.”
“The car’s a classic.”
Esther nodded, but she didn’t say anything else as she climbed inside.
I left the writing on the windows but popped the balloons on my side and dropped them on the ground before following her inside the car. Myla could pick up her own garbage when she came outside.
“My window says lovebirds,” Esther said as I backed out of the parking spot. “She even drew little birds.”
“You like it,” I murmured, glancing at her.
“I think it’s nice,” she confirmed quietly, pulling on her seat belt.
We didn’t say much as I drove toward the house. Our house. Halfway there, I felt her hand on my thigh and I let go of the steering wheel to put mine on top of hers.
“Thank you for today,” she said, breaking the silence as we pulled down the driveway. “It was great.”
“Hell, you did all of it,” I reminded her, shooting her a smile. “What are you thanking me for?”
“You agreed to it,” she countered, watching me. “I know you wanted to just go to the courthouse.”
“I’m an idiot.” I shook my head. “I woulda missed out on seein’ you in that dress.”
Esther laughed quietly as I pulled up to the garage and put the Mustang in park.
“Gimme a sec.” I reached for the door handle.
“Oh, wait!” she burst out, letting go of my leg so she could unbuckle her seat belt. She turned and got to her knees, hanging over the seat to go through a bag on the floor behind it.
“When the hell did you stash that?”
“Emilia was in charge of it,” she said distractedly. “Oh, here!”
She turned back and dropped onto her ass, breathless, and held out a little gray box.
“No fuckin’ way,” I murmured, pulling it from her fingers.
“Happy wedding day,” she said, almost shyly.
I pushed the button and watched the garage door slide upward.
“How the fuck did you manage this?” I huffed in surprise, grinning at the open garage.
“I asked Micky what he thought you would like,” she replied proudly. “He said you buy whatever you want usually, but that you’d been putting off buying a garage door opener.”
“When did—”
“They came out this morning and connected it all after you went to the clubhouse.” If it was any person but Esther, I would’ve called her tone smug.
I laughed, shaking my head. “Fuckin’ nailed it, baby,” I murmured, pulling the Mustang into the garage. As soon as I’d parked inside, I closed the door behind us.
“Thank goodness,” she mumbled as it grew dim inside. “I was pretty nervous you would think I was a lunatic.”
I reached for her, but she didn’t stop talking.
“It’s a pretty weird present. But since I’ve never been married before I wasn’t really sure what to get.”
I slid the seat back and maneuvered her onto my lap sideways. She was still babbling nervously.
“Plus, I had to use your money to get it, which seemed counterintuitive, but—”
She muttered the last couple of words against my mouth before stopping abruptly and leaning into the kiss.
After days of keeping my hands to myself and taking cold showers every night, my hands were practically shaking as I slid them over her.
The dress was snug and hung all the way to her feet so there was no way I could get under it while we were still in the car, but I sure as hell could feel her over it, and I did.
My hands roamed frantically, cupping her tits, gripping her thigh, tangling in her hair, wrapping lightly around her throat.
I wasn’t sure how long we sat there in the car while I pawed at her and she wrapped one arm around my neck and laid the other hand against my cheek, but by the time I jerked away, cursing with impatience, the windows were completely fogged over.
“Come on,” I rasped, throwing open my door. I climbed out, not letting her go, and used my ass to shut the door as I carried her through the garage. It wasn’t raining much, and I didn’t bother putting her down as I stomped from the garage to the house.
“All my stuff is still in the car,” she murmured, gripping my neck with both arms.
“I’ll grab it later,” I huffed, readjusting my grip so I could unlock the back door.
“You could put me down,” she said reasonably as I stepped inside the back door.
“It gets muddy through there,” I replied, setting her gently on her feet. “I’ll get some gravel set down so you’re not dealin’ with puddles.”
“I think I can manage some puddles,” she argued, a smile playing on her lips. She turned toward the table and paused.
Fuck.
I’d been so stoked about the garage door opener that I hadn’t even thought about what I’d gotten her for our wedding.
I hadn’t even known that I was supposed to get her a present until my mom informed me the night before.
I’d wrapped it up in blue paper and left a vase of flowers next to it—which now seemed fucking stupid because she’d been carrying a bouquet twice that size all fucking day.
“For me?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at me.
“If I’d known what you were gettin’ for me—” I started apologetically, following her. I seriously debated throwing the gift out the window before she could reach it. Goddamn it, I was such a fucking moron. “I woulda got you somethin’ nicer.”
“I’ll love it,” she assured me, reaching for the package. “I love the flowers.”
It took everything inside me to keep from snatching the gift out of her hands as she unwrapped it and when she was finally holding it in her hands, completely still, my stomach churned with regret.
“So you don’t slip on the stairs when you’re wearin’ those tights you like,” I explained quickly. “And they’ll keep your feet warm, too, obviously.”
She still didn’t look up.
“I’ll get you somethin’ better,” I said finally, reaching for the slippers.
“You got me slippers,” she said thickly, jerking them toward her so I couldn’t reach. “So I wouldn’t slip on the stairs?”
I rubbed the back of my neck in embarrassment. “Well, when I was showin’ you the house, your foot slipped on the top stair and—”
“I love them,” she murmured, her eyes glassy.