I chuckled under my breath.
“But I wouldn’t want you any other way,” she said with sincerity. “Love isn’t about perfection. It’s a beautiful chaotic mess, and there isn’t anyone I’d rather spend my life with than you.”
“So, you’re saying I’m not perfect anymore?” I grinned down at her.
“Sorry, babe. You’re still pretty hot though,” she offered with a shrug.
I just shook my head, using the lull in the conversation to step back. I quickly adjusted my feet and hands, and before she even realized what was going on, I had her spinning. She giggled, a young joyful sound, until she fell back into my arms. The guests clapped and hollered as we continued dancing.
She just looked up at me and smiled.
“You know,” I began, “you’re not perfect anymore either.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“The minute I saw those feminine products all over my bathroom, you suddenly became a little less perfect.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Tampons? Really? Holding my hair back in the hospital while I puked my guts out didn’t do it?”
“No. That just reminded me how strong you were,” I answered honestly. “How strong you still are.”
A few glasses clinked together before a few more chimed in, and soon, much like the rest of the evening had gone, the entire ballroom was filled with the sounds of people tapping their glasses with spare utensils.
The wait staff must really hate this wedding ritual.
I didn’t know how I’d made it into adulthood without ever knowing of this particular wedding tradition, but I had been well introduced to it now. As the chorus of clinking stemware rose, I looked down at my bride and smiled.
“I guess we should oblige,” I said.
“Oh, okay.”
A shy grin tugged at the corner of her mouth just before I bent down to capture her lips. The sound of clinking glasses dissolved into cheers as the crowd finally got what they’d asked for—a kiss from the bride and groom.
My finger wove into her hair as I pulled her closer, never breaking the rhythmic sway of our bodies. Her fingers clutched my forearm before sliding around my wrist. Then, I felt her lips curve into a tender smile.
“You wore them.”
“Of course I did.” I gazed down at my wrist where the cuff link Marcus had given me rested.
It was part of a set, and were a wedding gift from my bride.
“Do you know what they are?” she asked against my ear.
I shook my head, turning my hand to get a better look. The blue-green stone caught the light, illuminating the bright color within. She’d chosen a simple silver setting, which only enhanced the raw edges that the jeweler had left untouched.
“It’s sea glass from the beach where we took our first walk through the sand.”
My eyes flew up to hers in surprise. “You never cease to amaze me,” I managed to say. My voice was rough, and I was fighting back overwhelming emotions.
“As do you.”
Our first dance melted into a second and a third until it felt like we’d been dancing for hours. Our family and friends all joined us, and the music picked up as we celebrated the day in style.
About an hour later, the cake was brought out, and we posed in front of it for the photographer.
As we picked up the knife, Lailah eyed me warily. “I won’t remind you about how much time I spent getting ready today, Jude,” she warned, looking over my shoulder at the tall cake standing behind us.
I smiled mischievously. I had no intention of smashing cake in her face, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t mess with her.
“Duly noted,” I replied, my voice calm and flat.
“Jude.”
“Yes, Angel?”
“I’m wearing a thong,” she whispered.
Game over.
I looked up at her grinning face and blinked. That was all I could manage—a blank face and an eye blink. Sure, I’d seen a thong or two in my life, but Lailah was different. Lailah was mine, and whatever she did—or wore—was always exclusively mine. I’d never thought I’d be one of those caveman-type males who relished in the thought that my woman would only ever be mine, but I couldn’t help it.
Knowing I was the only man who had ever touched her did great things to my male ego. Being full aware that I would be the only one to ever see her in a thong . . . yeah, it rendered me speechless.
“Good. I’m glad we worked that out.” She laughed.
I tried unsuccessfully to adjust myself in my pants. I settled on buttoning my jacket instead. I heard Lailah snicker beside me, and I tossed her the evil eye.
Together, we picked up the knife and gently sliced through the bottom tier of the cake as cameras snapped and flashed behind us. Cutting a single piece, we placed it on the porcelain plate the wait staff had provided. I looked up and saw Lailah’s eyebrow rise in challenge.