You’re so getting cut off for that, I signed behind the boy’s backs.
Liar, he replied with only his hands. Then he stood up from his seat on the couch and dug his wallet out of his back pocket. “Besides, who said I was talking about Flint having a quickie? I was talking to you.” He handed Flint a twenty, but his eyes were glued to mine. “I’m starving. Go grab some pizza, and go to that good place down by the gym. It’s worth the drive.”
“Oh shit! Are you two going to do it?” Quarry asked, looking back and forth between us until Flint slapped him on the back of the head.
“Let’s go.” He grabbed the truck keys off table, and they both headed out the door.
As soon as it clicked behind them, Till was on me. His mouth crushed into mine while he lifted me onto the kitchen counter. I wasn’t going to fight him. We so rarely got time alone that I didn’t even care that he’d just announced to the boys that we were planning to have sex. More embarrassing things had happened.
He moved his mouth to my neck as my hands slid under his shirt and up to his hard abs.
“So I was thinking. Since I won the fight last night, I’m off for a few days.” I wasn’t looking at him, and I wasn’t about to remove my hands to reply, so I hummed my acknowledgement. He continued to kiss my neck. “I know things have been crazy over the last few months, but you’ve been wearing that engagement ring for entirely too long. What do you say we get married tomorrow?”
I jerked my head away to catch his eye. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I was thinking we could hit the courthouse, make it official, then do a big dinner with the boys and Slate and Erica, maybe some of the guys from the gym. Then we could get a hotel room for a couple of nights. Spend some time having way more than quickies.” He bit my bottom lip.
“Tomorrow?” I asked again in shock.
“Tomorrow.”
“But we don’t have rings,” I signed my petty excuse.
He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his mouth, kissing my palm. “We’ll get some.”
“Umm . . .” I stalled, but I wasn’t quite sure why. There wasn’t really anything to think about. I’d been married to Till since the first moment I’d laid eyes on him. He hadn’t known it for a long time, but I always had. There was really only answer. “Okay, but hotels are expensive. Let’s just see if the boys can spend a few nights at Slate’s.”
“Stop being a cheapo. We have more than enough in savings to cover something like this. We’re getting married. I want a couple of nights at a nice hotel where we can order up room service and a nice bottle of champagne. Maybe get a little tipsy and spend the rest of the night finding new ways to make each other come. You’ll need the extra day for recovery.”
“All right, baller. Then I want a new dress too.”
“Jesus Christ, Eliza! I’m not made of money.” He winked.
I melted.
“Baby, you can have anything you want if you just promise to marry me tomorrow. I’m not waiting anymore.”
Okay, I signed, unable to speak around the lump of emotion lodged in my throat. I’m so glad you’re back.
“Good. Now, get naked. I’m gonna fuck you one last time as my fiancée.”
I laughed as he peeled my shirt over my head. Then I quieted as he sucked my nipple into his mouth. A few minutes later, I moaned as he made good on his promise and fucked me on our kitchen counter.
In an ill-fitting rented tux and a pair of black Converse shoes, I watched Eliza Reynolds become Eliza Page.
My little courthouse scenario had been quickly nixed when I’d called Slate to invite him to dinner the following day. Erica had gotten her claws in Eliza, and within three hours, they had planned for the entire wedding to take place in the gazebo of Erica’s garden. I had no idea how they’d pulled it together, but by six p.m. that evening, Eliza had walked down a makeshift aisle covered with rose petals. She was wearing a short, strapless, white dress that hugged her body in ways that spoke to my soul—or, at the very least, my cock. Her long hair cascaded over one shoulder, and a sheer veil floated in the breeze behind her.
I was a man. I didn’t cry—at least, not right then. No, I saved that exhibition of manliness for when I actually had to talk and choke over every other word for everyone to hear. I was reasonably sure I’d never live it down. I was also reasonably sure I didn’t give a single fuck.
I was marrying Eliza.