Oh right, the kiss.
I lick my lips, my heart thundering and my hands shaking as I look at Ollie, waiting for him to make the first move. He gives me a dopey, sloppy grin before looping his arm around my waist and pulling me in. My breath hitches, and I wait formy instinctive flinch, but instead find myself sinking into him, tilting my head up, and letting out a quiet gasp when his lips meet mine.
He sweeps his tongue into my mouth, the taste of tequila heavy on his lips. My mouth was numb from the booze, but it surges to life, the heat of the kiss waking all of my nerve endings from their slumber. I whimper and deepen the kiss.
If there was any doubt about the wisdom of this decision, it’s dispelled by this kiss. Ihatekissing, but this feels good…better than good. That has to mean this is the right decision, doesn’t it?
The officiant clears his throat, and I release Ollie from the kiss reluctantly.
Getting back to the hotel is a blur, but I’m pretty sure the Uber driver issuperhappy for us. At least I know I spend the entire drive back telling him all about the wedding.
“I might be too drunk for my dick to work,” he says as we stumble into the hotel room.
“That’s okay, me too.” I shuffle into the bathroom and bend over to drink some water straight from the sink. “We can consimate…cosmet…commit…what was I saying?” I ask as I make my way into the main part of the room, stripping out of my clothes and flinging them haphazardly away.
I shove my pants down and giggle when I realize I didn’t wear any underwear today.
“Oops, no underwear.”
Ollie laughs again too. “Wear my boxers.”
“Ew.”
“Clean ones,” he adds, half-heartedly gesturing to his suitcase as he crawls into bed.
“You’re the best husband.” I riffle through his bag until I find a pair, pulling them on and then crawling into bed next to him.
He scoots close, flinging an arm around me and pulling me against him to spoon. I always thought cuddling was dumb, but this is actually pretty nice. I hum happily and settle against him.
“Night, husband,” I murmur.
“Night, love.”
GOATS LIKE CAKE TOO:
AFOURBEARSCONSTRUCTIONEPILOGUE
5 YEARS AFTER DRILLED
COLE
“You about ready, Honeybee?” I call down the hallway, carefully stepping over our big, fat cat, sunning herself in the hallway without a care in the world.
“One sec,” Ren calls back. It’s never one second, especially since his TikTok channel blew up. But if my husband taking too damn long to get ready to leave the house is my biggest problem, things could be worse. “Sorry, I kept having double chins in the video, so I had to reshoot it like a dozen times,” he explains, hustling out of his office, shoving his phone into his back pocket.
“No way you had double chins.” I snag him around the waist before he can get past me, dipping my head for a kiss. Six years married to this man, and I still can’t get enough of him.
“I did. It was horrifying,” he argues grimly.
I sigh. “Well, you wouldn’t want your millions of TikTok admirers to see you looking like a real human being or anything, wouldn’t that be tragic?”
His name is Hot Bee Dude, and viewers are crazy for it. He talks about beekeeping and gives tons of information about bee conservation, mainly wearing half-unbuttoned shirts so he’ll be labeled athirst trap, whatever the fuck that is.
He snickers. “Jealous?” Ren teases.
“Nope, because I know you’re all mine.” I slip my hands down to squeeze his ass. “On second thought, Iamfeeling very neglected lately.”
“How about I make it up to you with some hot tub time when we get home tonight?” he suggests, waggling his eyebrows to make sure I know he doesn’t just mean soaking.
