Instead of a private, romantic evening at Dee’s favorite restaurant, I’ve somehow ended up in a hospital gown, on a gurney, in the back room of the goddamn ER. The only thing that could make it worse would be if the engagement ring was to get stolen by a sticky-fingered nurse or random homeless person.
I designed the ring myself, and it’s perfect. A flawless two-carat diamond surrounded by emeralds, rubies, and sapphires. It’s colorful, unique, just like Dee. Now I just have to give it to her.
I dig my pants out of the standard-issue plastic hospital bag and pull the ring box from the pocket. Then, before the nurses can stop me, I sprint down the short hall to the emergency room waiting area where Delores is. She stands up as soon as she sees me.
I walk to her and drop to one bended knee. “I want you to belong to me. And I want to be yours. I want to be the reason for your smiles. I want to spend the rest of my life listening to all your theories and teaching you the difference between a good movie and a bad one. I want to be eighty years old, holding your hand during couples skate-and I promise to love you every single moment from now until then. Will you marry me, Delores?”
Yeah-so that was my romantic proposal.
Dee didn’t want to have a long engagement, and I was thrilled about that. The “why wait?” philosophy is how we started, and it hasn’t let us down yet. So, here we are-me, Dee, Drew, and Kate-in Vegas for a quickie wedding and kick-ass celebration.
I look in the mirror and try to straighten my tie, but it doesn’t cooperate.
“Are you sure about this?” Drew asks from behind me, dressed in his own custom-tailored tuxedo.
“Never been more sure, buddy.”
I give up on the tie. Screw it.
“Are you really sure?” Drew asks. “It’s not too late to back out.”
I smirk. “It’s way too late.”
His eyes drop to my crooked tie, and he steps in front of me to fix it-like a father helping his teenage son on prom night. Once it’s straightened to Drew’s satisfaction, he puts his hands on my shoulders, looks me in the eyes, and says, “Are you sure you’re really sure?”
Kate’s frowning voice calls from across the room. “Drew?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“He’s sure. Don’t ask him again or I’m not going to be happy. And you won’t like it if I’m not happy.”
I think they’ve been watching Incredible Hulk reruns recently.
Drew nods. But as soon as Kate’s back is turned, he silently mouths, “Are you sure? Really sure?”
I laugh. Because I’m sure.
And because I never-ever-thought I’d see the day when Drew would be cowed by a chick. But it looks like he has.
Haven’t we all?
I adjust my cuff links as Dee walks up beside me, warm contentment in her eyes. She’s wearing an all-white, all-lace, long-sleeved minidress with baby blue stilettos. Her strawberry-blond hair is pulled up at the sides, and a shoulder-length veil cascades over her hair like a halo, held in place by a small diamond tiara that sits atop her head.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks me.
I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “I was thinking about the first time I called you. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, but I think I was kind of nervous.” I kiss her temple, gently. “I’m not nervous now.”
She rests her head against my chest. “Me, neither.”
Just then, the double doors to the chapel open, and a crystal-encrusted Elvis steps into the room. “Are we ready to get this show on the road, kids?”
Drew and I take our places near the altar as the doors are closed once more. Instrumental guitar music begins, the doors open, and Kate steps into the archway. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Drew smile wide as he follows Kate’s every move. When she gets down the aisle, he winks, and Kate answers him with an adoring smile.
Once Kate stands in her assigned spot, the doors reopen again, revealing Dee on Elvis’s arm. As he escorts her down the aisle, he sings our wedding song, “Can’t Help Falling In Love.”
Delores and I stand side by side, hand in hand, as Elvis asks us our vows. “Do you, Matthew Franklin Fisher, take Delores Warren as your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.”
“Do you promise to never treat her like a ‘Hound Dog,’ ‘Don’t Be Cruel,’ or leave her ‘Lonesome Tonight’?”
“I do.”
“Do you promise to be her ‘Big Hunk O’ Love,’ her ‘Teddy Bear,’ and love her tender and true until death do you part?”
I cup Dee’s cheek in my hand. “Always.”
Dee smiles and tears up as I slip the platinum band on her finger, next to her engagement ring.
Then Elvis asks Delores, “Do you, Delores Sunshine Warren, take Matthew Fisher as your lawfully wedded husband?”
Her voice is clear and sure as she answers, “I do.”
“Do you promise to never step on his ‘Blue Suede Shoes,’ never cause him to have a ‘Suspicious Mind,’ or leave him ‘All Shook Up’?”
“I do.”
“Will you always have him on your mind, always show him the ‘Wonder of You,’ and always keep that ‘Burning Love’ for him until death do you part?”
“I will.”
With that, Dee slips the ring on my finger. And in a deep drawl, Elvis proclaims, “By the power invested in me by the State of Nevada, I pronounce you husband and wife.” He slaps my shoulder. “You may kiss your bride.”
I don’t have to be told twice. I wrap my arms around her and press my lips to Dee’s-pouring every ounce of love, excitement, and gratitude I feel for her into it.
I don’t know if it’s proper to use tongue in a wedding kiss, but I don’t let that stop me.
Before I can sweep Delores up, she jumps right into my arms, and I cradle her as we kiss. Kate claps and Drew whistles. After we take a thousand pictures, we thank Elvis and head out. And the four of us spend the rest of the night laughing and dancing until we can’t stand up.
It really is the best of times. And it’s just the beginning.
Volume 5
Prologue
There are moments in life that you dream about-plan for. You imagine every detail in crisp, vivid color and high-definition sound. And when that one perfect moment finally arrives, you pray the reality will come close to the fantasy you’ve built up in your mind.
And then there are those precious few times-when the reality blows your fantasy out of the fucking water.
That’s what this is like for me.
Because that devilishly handsome man, in the perfectly fitted Armani tuxedo, standing at the altar of St. Patrick’s Cathedral-that’s me. Drew Evans.
And Katherine Brooks just stepped into the church. Waiting in the back, a stunning vision in white, ready to take her first step down the aisle.
To me.
Most guys don’t dream about their wedding-you don’t need me to tell you that. But this isn’t just any wedding. This is a landmark event. Revolutionary. Because for most of my life, I didn’t entertain the slightest possibility that I’d end up here.
Sand to the beach, books to the library-it wasn’t what I wanted, remember?
But Kate did the impossible. She changed all that-she changed me. I think we can all agree I was pretty frigging awesome before . . . but now I’m even better.
The road to this day wasn’t all rainbows and boners. There were some potholes-mistakes-and misunderstandings worthy of a Greek fucking tragedy. But we made it through those times with our inexhaustible lust, boundless admiration, and everlasting love for one another intact.
That being said, some unexpected developments last weekend could have been a problem. It was . . . kind of . . . my final test.
I know what you’re thinking: What the hell did you do this time?
Relax. Let’s hold off on the judgments-and the calls for my castration-until you hear the whole story. Just remember: even though the noblest intentions can go awry, and they do, this story has a happy ending.
Chapter 1
One week earlier
The apartment is silent. Still. The kind of quiet that can only be found in the predawn hours when the sky is dark and gray. The place has changed since you saw it last. Take a look around. Sterilized sippy cups lie in wait on a countertop; a green-cushioned, wooden high chair sits in the corner of the kitchen. Framed photographs clutter the walls and shelves.
Some are of Kate and me, but most of the captured images are of a dark-haired two-year-old, with brown, soulful eyes and a devilish smile.
Cut to the bedroom. Two bodies writhe on the bed, partially covered by rumpled silk sheets; my hips rotate in long, slow circles. I think the missionary position has gotten a bad rap. It’s not boring. It allows the guy to take control-set the pace. To reach all those secret spots that make women moan and dig their fingernails into our shoulder blades.
Kind of like Kate is doing right now.
My head dips and I grasp one perky nipple with my lips, suctioning hard and flicking with my tongue. Kate arches her back. Her chin rises and her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Her thighs squeeze harder, her pussy clenches tighter.
Even with the birth of a child on its résumé, Kate’s cooch is just as snug and feels just as amazing as it did that first time. God bless you, Dr. Kegel.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.