Heather was first in line. “Jesus. Nice work, Mike.” As she made her inspection, she asked Laurel, “You gonna be a Flynn?”
“I thought maybe I’d combine them, and be Laurel White Flynn, but your brother said a whiteflynn sounds like some kind of fish, so now I’m leaning toward just taking yours.” It wasn’t as though Laurel was especially attached to her name, or close with anyone who shared it. In fact, she felt far more endeared to this salty crew than she ever had to her own parents.
“You’d be welcome to it,” Heather said. “Class this family up.”
Laurel settled in for a good hour’s interrogation about all things bridal, disappointing everyone by having zero clue what she wanted her wedding to look like. Flynn excused himself to help man the grill. He reappeared just as Laurel was getting a bit of a break, refilling her glass at the cluttered beverage table.
He wandered over, popping the tab on another ginger ale. “You survived the frenzy.”
“I did. Do you think this gets us out of having to endure an engagement party?”
“I’m afraid that may be up to my sister. And she likes occasions.”
“The natives were thoroughly perplexed that I didn’t have any ideas about dresses or venues or color themes, but they let me live, in the end. I smell brats.”
“That you do. Everything’s done but the steak.” He tapped his can to her glass. “Thanks for making a decent man of me.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure the second I get you down that aisle you’ll quit swearing and fighting and find yourself a desk job and a briefcase, Michael Flynn.”
He smirked. “Wouldn’t hold your breath.”
Laurel lowered her voice. “And I would be very, very disappointed to discover that wedded bliss somehow cured you of your depravity.”
“Can’t be a cure unless there’s a disease, and I’d like to think my tastes are part of my appeal.”
She tapped his can again. “Hear, hear.”
“Only difference’ll be that now when you fight back, you can scratch me with your ring.”
Something growled low and hot in her belly, and it had nothing to do with hunger. “Is it weird that I just got a little turned on?”
“Nope. Only makes me more certain I found the right woman.”
She could feel her cheeks burning but welcomed that heat, letting it wash over her and imagining summer breezes yet to come, the sizzle of champagne on her tongue as they toasted something else in a couple years’ time. She didn’t care much about dresses or registries, or whether they were married in a church or a park or in the boxing ring in that stinky bar basement, frankly. She only cared who was waiting for her as she crossed the floor. It could only be this man. It could only be those strong hands and those blue eyes, those lips on hers, that body against her own in their bed when the time came to tell their guests goodnight.
“We’ve got a lot to learn about each other, once that U-Haul’s been returned,” she said.
He eyed her. “I’m not scared. Are you?”
“No. I don’t think I am.” They’d been through a hell of a ride together these past two months and held hands through every dip and buck of the rollercoaster. In many ways she’d still felt like a girl for nearly all the time she’d been with him, trapped in a post-college purgatory. She was proud she’d be moving in with him feeling like a woman, at last.
“Lemme see it,” Flynn said, nodding down at her hand.
She tilted the ring this way and that, enjoying the slow, smarmy smile that spread across his lips.
“That’s a nice fuckin’ rock.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“You realize it’ll only make me ten times more possessive than I already am.”
“That a promise?”
He snaked his arm around her, fisting her belt at her waist. “The worst kind.”
“If this wasn’t my party I’d say let’s pound these drinks and get the heck out of here.”
He let her go, shaking his head. “You waited too long and worked too hard for this.”
“I suppose I did.”
He flicked his finger between the two of them. “This’ll keep for a few more hours. Go find yourself a sausage and another drink. Soak up the love.”
She looked around, floored all over again to think these dozens of people were here for her. “That sounds like a very good idea.”
“I’ll still be here, ready to escort your giggly ass home.”
“I’ll look forward to that.” She pulled him down by the collar for a kiss, smelling ginger, feeling the familiar heat of his skin. A humble and happy awe settled over her as he straightened once more, to know this man loved her the way she loved him, and to trust that she deserved it.
With a final stroke of his jaw, she said, “See you in a bit.”
“That you will. Go have the fuckin’ time of your life, kiddo.”