28. Happily Ever After
TWENTY-EIGHT
HAPPILY EVER AFTER
Trish
“I, Jackie Darling Lee, take you, Flynn West, to be my lawfully wedded husband.” Though her voice is steady, Jackie’s hands shake slightly, clasped in Flynn’s as they stand under an arbor of greenery, dotted with coral and white roses.
Chief Astronaut Luke Bisbee presides over the ceremony. He got ordained just for the occasion. His girlfriend, NASA PR guru Emily Durham, looks on proudly from the white chairs lined up before the couple.
Jules preens like a proud momma, every once in a while looking away from the couple to take in the general splendor that she oversaw as maid of honor. Though she acted more like a general at war while using the wedding planner as her second in command.
Holt is stoic as ever, the most solemn face in the crowd. Though his expression was a darn sight more entertaining earlier when he first caught a look at Jules in her dress.
Rose’s eyes are glued to Jackie and Flynn’s clasped hands. Her eyes look misty, her mouth formed in a small smile.
I frown, tilting my head to try and get a better look at Rose from my stance behind her. Her smile looks oddly sad. But as I study her, the small smile is replaced by the wide, shit-eating grin she’s known for.
Hmm.
“I do.” Flynn’s declaration rings out over the small gathering of friends and family. Or rather, family made up of friends. Because that is exactly what we’re surrounded by. Co-workers, siblings, waitresses—all friends linked together by interests, friendship, and love.
Just a few feet away, in the front row, Ian sits next to Jackie’s father. And like mine, Ian’s eyes aren’t on the happy couple. They’re on me.
Though it’s November, the shiver that runs through me has nothing to do with the weather.
Due to the packed schedule, MOHzilla had us all sleep over at the ranch. Jules even tried to kick Holt out of his own home, claiming “girl stuff.” Surprising us all, Holt put his foot down.
Seeing as the last time the four of us did girl stuff the police were called (i.e. two days ago), Jules didn’t have much of a leg to stand on.
The compromise was that Holt stayed at the ranch but slept in my trailer still parked by the house.
Girls’ night also meant that Ian and I didn’t get to continue where we’d left off after his father stormed out. We were only a few sessions into our make-up sex when Jules came knocking, demanding all the bridesmaids assemble.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
A lot of emotions war inside me as I watch Flynn gather Jackie to him, kissing her long and hard. Joy, happiness, gratitude, desire.
When Flynn lets Jackie up for air, her face redder than the soles of my dream Louboutins, my attention moves back to Ian.
His eyes are still on me.
It’s cliché, I know, but weddings really do bring out a woman’s hormones.
And when a woman has a hot man and a vacant trailer, there’s only one thing left for a girl to do.
“We can’t.” Ian backs me up against the trailer’s kitchen cabinets. “Not in here.”
“Yes we can. And why not here?” I pull back, checking his eyes for any evidence of panic.
None. Just darkened with desire.
“Because”—he kisses me once, twice—“anyone walking by the trailer is going to know exactly what we’re doing in here.”
I kiss him back, chuckling when his hand trails down my back to squeeze my rear end. “Don’t be such a goody-goody, Captain America.”
Ian’s hot breath tickles my ear before he begins trailing his lips down my neck. “Clear a girl of a felony charge and suddenly she becomes an exhibitionist.”
My palm rubs the tent popping up in his tuxedo pants. “I’ll remember that comment next time you try and seduce me by the pool.”
He groans, kissing me harder, letting me step back just long enough to shimmy out of my panties.
It’s the first time I’ve been back in my trailer since the night of the bachelorette party. What was once my only constant for many years already feels distant. Ian’s house has become much more like my home. Our home.
But it’s still a great place for a tryst.
Ian struggles out of his tight-fitting suit jacket, revealing black suspenders. “Aren’t you going to be late for the reception?”
I bite my lip, the sight of him sliding his suspenders off his shoulders doing ah-mazing things for my already racing libido. “It’s fine.” I yank him to me by his shirt front. A button pops off, bouncing on the floor. “It’ll be fine.”
Ian may have been joking when he called me an exhibitionist, but it is true since the warrant for my arrest has been revoked, I feel lighter. Freer. Sexier.
Ian grunts as I slide my hands down his pants, squeezing his cock. “Yep. Totally fine.”
I pump him twice before pulling my hand free and undoing his belt.
Swaths of chiffons float up and back down around us.
“Where are you in this?” Ian’s frustration has me laughing again.
A soon as his belt jingles open, his hands are on my waist, lifting me onto the kitchen counter.
A feeling of déjà vu comes over me, remembering that night after the bar when I first gave in to him.
But instead of hurt and rejection, I feel amusement and appreciation over how far we’ve come in such a short time.
Ian drops to his knees, diving under the layers of my dress until his tongue finds me, flicking and lapping until I’m worried about the state of my dress.
“Now, Ian. Now.”
A few more laughs escape us as he tries to free himself of my skirts. But when he finally enters me in a slow deep thrust, the laughter fades into pure sensation. The feel of him inside, the weight of his hands on my hips, the grasp of his waist between my thighs.
I’m too far gone once he thrusts to care about the trailer rocking or wedding guests talking.
Let them know. Let them know how much I love this man. How much he loves me.
Pleasure hits me, and I arch my back, screaming out in pleasure before Ian’s lips cover my own. He thrusts once, twice, then stills, his moan reverberating in my chest.
Slowly the world comes back to us. Tinkling glasses, distant laughter, the band’s melody floating out from the barn doors.
Life can’t get much better.
“Fuck.”
Startled, my relaxed body tenses. “What?” My hands grip his shoulders. “Are you okay? Is it the small space?” I make to get down and hustle him outside, but he holds me in place.
“No, no. I’m fine.” His frown fades, and he pauses as if in thought. “Actually, being in here hasn’t bothered me once.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good.” I tilt my head. “Then what’s the matter?”
He grimaces. “I forgot the condom.”
“Oh.” The wetness between my legs intensifies.
“Yes, oh.” His head dips down, his forehead touching mine. Regardless of the problem, I can’t help but smile. I’m pretty sure Ian Kincaid, Boy Scout Captain America, never made this mistake before.
“I guess you’ll just have to marry me then.”
Ian jerks away so fast he stumbles back, cock out. “Wait. What?”
I look down, biting my lips so as not to laugh. “And get that dog we were talking about at the food truck park.” I slide off the counter, mincing carefully over to the tiny bathroom to clean up.
Maneuvering my cumbersome dress within the small space, I call out, “Rebecca is here. We can ask her what shelter dogs are available at the moment.”
No response. I finish up, washing my hands and step out, finding Ian right where I left him, his penis tucked back inside his tuxedo pants.
“Did you… did you just ask me to marry you while I’m still inside you?” He runs a hand through his hair. “And then tell me we’re getting a dog?”
Any other woman might be regretting her impulsiveness, or second guessing her boyfriend’s feelings at such a response. But I am that sure of Ian’s feelings and trusting in what we have that I can’t help but laugh. “Is that a no?”
With just one step, Ian squeezes me so tight the breath is knocked from my lungs. “Hell no that isn’t a no.” He pulls back, smacking a kiss on my lips before I can get a breath in. “That’s a wait-a-damn-minute-and-let-me-do-the-asking.”
“Oh. I see. Did I step on your macho toes?”
He rolls his eyes. “As a writer you should know that there is an order to these things.”
“There is?”
“Yes.” He holds up one finger. “First we date.”
I think of the food truck park. “We sort of did that.”
“Then we live together.” Another finger.
“We are doing that.” Though in hindsight we never really talked about it.
A third finger joins the other two. “Then I propose to you .”
“I don’t see why you get to do it,” I mutter.
“Then we get a dog, then a baby.” He looks like he wants me to high-five him.
“Considering the lack of condom, there’s a good chance we might just have to write our own story.”
He glances down at my stomach, as if envisioning our baby there. His smile is wide and bright. “Yeah?”
“Yep. And besides, as a writer I know that there is only one hard and true rule.”
“And what’s that?”
“A happily ever after.”
We both stare at each other, basking in the moment, too happy to be embarrassed about how corny we are right now. My hands on his waist, him cradling my jaw, we keep eye contact, slowly leaning toward each other.
And just before our lips meet— someone bangs on the door.
“Get your slutty ass out here, T.D.” Rose’s voice booms into the night.
“Julie freaking Starr, maid of honor from hell, says we have to do something called a reception line into the barn now that Jackie and Flynn are done with pictures.” She mumbles something about everyone sneaking off to have sex but her.
“Get a move on!” She bangs one last time before her footsteps retreat from the trailer.
Sighing, Ian hugs me to him, kissing the top of my head. “We need to add a step to our plan.”
“What’s that, sugar?”
“Get Rose a man.”
I bark out a laugh, even my romantically-inclined imagination failing to come up with a man who could handle all that is Rose West. “How about we start checking off the other things first?”
“Like what? Marriage?”
I lick his collar bone. “Baby.”
His body tenses for a moment before springing into action. Once more I’m in his arms, though instead of the kitchen counter, he takes two steps to the left, laying me down on the bed. “Sounds good to me.”
Smiling, I talk into his neck between kisses. “What about the reception?”
Once more his belt hits the floor. “It’ll be fine.”