Hate him? She couldn’t get her clothes off fast enough. Who knew she’d be spending the first night of marriage in a tree house? With Jake Titus? And Twinkies. Okay fine, so God had a sense of humor after all.
“Damn, you taste good.” His tongue tangled with hers as his hands moved to her hips.
Fireworks sounded the minute his hands grazed her skin, or maybe it was a whistle. She kissed him harder. Something was off.
The fireworks got louder.
And then someone was knocking on the door to the tree house.
“Okay, you two!” Grandma yelled. “Get down here! We have plans to make! And a wedding to attend! Get down!”
Jake, obviously not caring, continued kissing her.
Char kissed him back; that is, until he was jerked away from her by Grandma herself, whistle in hand.
Jake swore violently as he covered himself with the blanket. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Grandma shrugged. “You have the rest of your lives to fornicate in the tree house…”
“Not fornicating if you’re married,” Jake pointed out.
“Fine. You can screw later.” Grandma glared. “But the caterers are here and the cake has arrived. I need the topper.”
Char felt her eyes widen. “Uh, it was um…”
“I know you have the topper,” Grandma said, sounding bored. “Blanche confirmed that you paid for it.”
“Expensive piece of work, that cake topper,” Jake grumbled.
“Down, both of you.” Grandma blew her whistle one last time and made her way down the ladder, all the while yelling. “You have ten minutes to bring me the topper.”
“Or what!” Jake called after her.
The whistle was all they heard, and then Charles Barkley made his way outside barking. He had a shock collar around his neck, with one push he stopped barking and whimpered, falling to the grass in pain. “Use your imagination. I do believe they have these for the male—”
“Fine!” Jake yelled. “Have it your way!”
Now was the time to panic. “Jake, we don’t have a stand for the topper. We can’t just let it ruin the cake.”
Jake swore. “It either ruins the cake by falling through it, or by sitting on a stand that says ‘Tits Forever’.”
Char covered her mouth with her hands and laughed. “To be fair we got sidetracked.”
“You,” he pointed, “were a distraction. Had you not waltzed around me in high heels and short skirts, I would have built a damn topper.”
“Right. So where’s your hammer?”
At Jake’s guilty look, Char shot him a triumphant glare. “Wow, do you even know what a nail is?”
He grinned shamelessly. “I think I’ve proven I can nail things.”
“Holy crap, it’s a tie between me wanting to give you a high five or slap you.”
“What happened to the whole naked option? That not on the table anymore?”
“Negative.” Char threw on her shirt and stood. “That left the table the minute Grandma mentioned shock collars and alluded to male parts.”
“Noted.” Jake winced. “Fine, let’s get this over with. Maybe nobody will notice?”
“Right.” Char nodded. “And maybe Grandma and Mr. Casbon didn’t play Charades last night.”
Jake flinched. “Arousal. Gone.”
“Good.” Char held out her hand to him so he could help her down the ladder. “Because it would look all kinds of inappropriate if you looked horny while handing over that topper to the caterer.”
Jake climbed down after her. “You always know the right thing to say.”
“It’s why you married me.” Char grinned.
Jake lifted her into his arms and carried her across the lawn. “Among other things.”
“Put me down!”
“Threshold.” Jake blew a kiss across her face. “I do things right.”
“Except you don’t,” Char pointed out.
“Some things,” he set her on her feet the minute they were in the kitchen, “I do right, like the important ones named Char. If you didn’t hear me after I said it about a billion times last night…” he pulled her flush against his body, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Her eyes welled up with tears just as another whistle blow assaulted the air.
“Topper. On it.” Jake released her and ran down the hall.
Chapter Fifty-six
Jake tilted his head to the right and winced. “It looks fine, right?”
Char was motionless next to him. He nudged her. “Right?”
Her inability to speak and her all-around pinched expression didn’t make him feel better about what they had done. The caterers had come up with a brilliant plan; they kept extra icing around just in case some of the bows on the cake fell off. It was a black and white cake with white icing and black bows, simple, elegant, in Char’s words, “cute.” Luckily for them, easy enough to hide the word ‘Tits’.
So now, it just said Forever.
Only, it wasn’t centered correctly because well, you could tell there was supposed to be two words. Not one.
“It’s fine.” Char finally said. “I can’t even see the Tits anymore.”