Back Where I Belong: A Wonderfully Witty and Completely Absorbing Love Story (Susan Wade Series Book 3)

by Virginia Gray

  Smiling deviously, I nodded to its mirror image. “Well, there’s that one over there.”

  He pursed his lips and shook his head. “I’ve been plannin’ this night ever since you said yes, and a car was definitely not involved. I want you slow and sweet.” Then he glanced at the window partition. “And alone.”

  “Remember what happened last time you went for ‘slow and sweet?’” I asked.

  Ginning furiously, he said, “My lips are still bruised. But, darlin’, if I have to handcuff you to the bed, I’m lovin’ ya right, starting with your toes and ending with the top of your head. My mouth’s gonna be on every inch of you, and I promise you’ll like it.”

  21

  A Toast or Twenty

  “We’re here, y’all,” Lytle announced a very short time later.

  Pete’s cousin, Chris, owned a large plot of land—as in two-hundred acres large—in the middle of frickin’ nowhere. There was no name associated with the area, and the only way I knew to get there took nearly forty-five minutes down forgotten cow paths. Pete and I may have been making out furiously, and admittedly, I did have a tendency to lose track of time and space when he kissed me, but there was no flippin’ way forty-five minutes had passed since we’d left the church.

  We barely had time to put ourselves back together before the door swung open.

  “Where are we?” I asked, as Pete once again lifted me into his arms.

  “Limousine number two.”

  Boards creaked as he carried me across an unfamiliar dock, finally stopping beside a fully decorated Bessie. White gossamer material and blue satin ribbon snaked through her railing, ending in a giant bow at her stern.

  After carefully lowering me onto her fiberglass deck, Pete landed deftly beside me. His expression again a mingling of love and awe, he took my face in his hands and planted tender kisses from my forehead to my lips. “I can’t imagine livin’ in this world without you.”

  I looked deeply into his shining eyes, my own tears welling. “I love you,” I whispered.

  The kiss lasted an eternity, and I wanted nothing more than to slowly strip him naked and make the exact sweet love he’d promised. I helped him out of his jacket and freed him from his tie. Then I unbuttoned the top of his tuxedo shirt.

  Suddenly, he pulled back and shook his head slowly, his teeth sinking into his lower lip in a way that heated my blood to near boiling. “Not in a boat either.” He tenderly touched my cheek. “Darlin’, I get all the pleasure of unwrapping you in our bedroom, and if it takes hours, all the better. Now, if we don’t get out of here soon, we won’t make our own reception.”

  I wanted to say I didn’t care about anything past this moment, but the fact was, a whole lot of people had gone to a great deal of trouble to make this happen, and I couldn’t in good faith spoil it for them. “We’re staying ten minutes.”

  “Tops,” he agreed. He knelt down and retrieved a small cooler stowed beneath the bench. He reached his arm backward, and I took the two plastic glasses.

  “Champagne? You are the most romantic man I’ve ever met.”

  Rather than a cork exploding, however, I heard the unmistakable hiss of an aluminum can opening. “No, sweetheart, Red Bull.” He tipped the slim can and filled our flutes with what looked very much like sparkling urine. “One way or another, it’s gonna be a long night. And I don’t want to miss a minute of it.” He raised his glass in toast. “Here’s to a beautiful life together, and a boatload of caffeine to keep us awake for most of it.”

  I looked deeply into his stunning green eyes and snorted. “Here’s to a lifetime of insanity, with you leading the way.” We tapped glasses and sucked it down.

  Casting off, Pete headed east on the Neuse River, a bridal march to the sea. The breeze tugged at my tiny veil, but thanks to Dottie and National Cosmetics, my hair did not even flinch. I idly wondered if it would stay this way throughout our honeymoon.

  ♥

  Had I a map and GPS with a dedicated satellite feed, I still would never have found the entrance, but Pete pulled into the all but hidden tributary as if he did so daily. He tossed Bessie’s reins to Jimmy, my favorite, and now braces-free, pizza boy, whose sole job, it appeared, was to herald our arrival. He tied the boat and then raced off.

  “They’re here, y’all!” His voice resonated through the thick forest as he ran up the path.

  Anita appeared. And suddenly, there was with her a multitude of not so heavenly hosts, sloshing beer and shouting, “Congratulations!”

  “I don’t want to know what you paid for those shoes, but let’s not mess ’em up,” Pete said, respectfully setting them on the captain’s chair. He then helped me onto the tiny, ribbon-adorned dock and swept me up in his arms so quickly I squealed.

  We moved en masse through the freshly planted field to a magnificent wooden stage. Chairs, wrapped in crisp white cotton and tied neatly with wide blue ribbon, encircled large tables laden with flickering tea candles and mounded sprays of blue hydrangeas, yellow freesias, and cream roses; replicas of my bouquet. The sun, setting over the distant tree line, decorated the sky with fiery streamers of pink and red as if by design.

  Turning in a slow circle, Pete gently set me down in front of the bridal party’s table and kissed me solidly. “Mona tells me you haven’t eaten a thing all day. Let’s fix that before ya faint.”

  Besieged by hugs and kisses, Pete eventually escaped through the throng of happy relatives holding us captive. Many of the men pursued him, leaving me prisoner in a cell built of multigenerational estrogen. Much to Mona’s dismay, my schedule had left little time for a bridal shower, so I found myself assaulted by the barrage of marital advice typically associated with such occasions. I nodded a great deal but paid little attention otherwise. In retrospect, perhaps that was a mistake.

  The savory aroma of Southern-cooked everything was intoxicating. A mile-long table of chafing dishes stood waiting to be pillaged. Two of Pete’s uncles—twins to the last detail of their smeared aprons—hacked away at hunks of roasted pig carcass with large meat cleavers. Once placed in deep dishes, another relative ladled a hot vinegar mixture over their efforts. Drool pooled in my mouth, and I was more than ready to eat a paper plate when I caught sight of Pete, chatting away with several men. I narrowed my eyes.

  As the women drifted off to tend to their meal-related duties, I was blessed with a pale moment to myself—my first in days. I exhaled slowly and closed my eyes. I was married. Never in a million years could I have predicted this. And a reception here? Here, in the middle of a North Carolina soybean field? I snorted to myself then sighed happily. Absolutely perfect.

  Jimbo suddenly appeared in front of me with two frothy cups of beer. “I imagine ya need one of these about now.”

  “You of all people would know.”

  In a surprising move, he sat on the table I’d been leaning against, his slightly dusty dress shoes dangling. Sliding a few candles over, I joined him.

  “Yep, that’s how I got through our reception. Lots and lots of beer.” We sat in a bubble of silence for a moment, and then he said, “I know ya’ll’ll be as happy as Mona and me. Pete loves you about as much as I do her.” I smiled to myself. “He’ll be a good husband to ya.”

  “I know he will,” I replied.

  After a stretch of stoic silence, he began tapping his fingers on the tablecloth. Then he took a large gulp of beer and cleared his throat. Then it was back to the tapping thing again.

  “Something on your mind?”

  “Yep.”

  “Alright, shoot.”

  He inhaled audibly and met my eyes. “If it’s okay with you, I’d…well, I’d still like to go fishin’ with him some Sundays.”

  “Fishing? Is that what this is about?” I said, laughing.

  “Pete won’t cross ya for a while, so I thought I’d better ask myself.”

  “You want my blessing to go fishing?”

  He looked slightly embarrassed. “Mona said it was alright with her.
So, ya know, yeah.”

  I reached over and pecked his cheek. His shocked expression was hilarious. “Well, since you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a brother, I give you my full blessing. You two can fish your little hearts out.”

  He grinned widely—a sight I was still getting used to—and stood as Pete approached.

  “What are y’all talkin’ so secretly about?

  “Fishin’,” Jimbo replied, patting him on the shoulder. Pete raised an eyebrow, and then took his place.

  I glanced at his dessert-sized plate, and he huffed. “You’d think I’d have a bit more clout at my own reception.” His lopsided grin was every bit as edible as the boiled shrimp he popped in my mouth. Oh, Holy Mother of God. Calories.

  “More!” I begged, opening my mouth like a baby bird.

  A drum set, keyboard, and a couple of guitars were set up at one corner of the platform. Jimbo flipped the amplifier’s switch and handed his mother the microphone.

  Charlotte cleared her throat then smiled brightly at us. “It’s time to eat, y’all. But first, let us bow our heads and thank the Lord…” Five minutes later, after yet another devil’s curse and very few dry eyes left in the place, she said, “Amen.”

  As the crowd flew towards the food like a well-dressed swarm of locusts, I leaned over and whispered, “What she said about your parents was so beautiful. I wish more than anything that I could wave a wand and bring them back.”

  Pete’s smile was wistful. “Me, too. This would have been a blessed day for them—especially Mamma.”

  While the rest of Eastern North Carolina fidgeted in the buffet line, Mona ushered us to our seats. “We’ll bring y’all yours.”

  Anita soon made her way over. “Lordy, that line’s a mile long. Glad I’ve got cuttin’ privileges. Kirk’ll be along in a minute with a bridal feast, but in the meantime, y’all need drinks.” She popped open a bottle of champagne and filled our special flutes.

  “I don’t care who brings it, as long as we get some food soon.” Pete raised his glass and tapped mine. “To my beautiful bride. Other than oxygen, you’re the only thing in life I’ll ever need. I love you, Susie-Q.”

  “I love you, too,” I sniffed as we sipped.

  “Hey, y’all look hungry,” Kirk said, refilling our glasses.

  “I believe you’re supposed to be fixin’ that problem,” Pete replied.

  “Not me. Jimbo’s gettin’ y’all’s plates.” He raised his cup of beer and tapped our glasses. “Congratulations. Hope Y’all’ll be as happy as Anita and me.”

  A few minutes later, Jimbo came around and deposited two cups of beer on the table. “Oh, y’all are into the champagne already. Here, let me refill your glasses.”

  “Kirk said you were bringing us food,” I snipped.

  Jimbo chuckled. “I delegated that to Hunter. He should be along any minute. In the meantime, a toast to you, Susan.” He raised his cup and smiled at me. “To the newest member of our family.”

  “To my love,” Pete added, kissing me.

  After countless cousins dropped by the table to toast us, each insisting dinner was on its way, I was fairly buzzed and not nearly so hungry anymore. Pete seemed less concerned about food as well, and we soon stopped asking about it.

  “Hey, y’all. Sorry about the wait. They’re cuttin’ up more meat now, but here’s some shrimp to tide you over.” Hunter delivered the small plate as if he’d done a great magic feat and popped the cork of yet another bottle of champagne. We were on our fourth, or quite possibly fifth.

  Looking around, I noticed everyone near us was not only seated, but most had finished their meals. Pete offered me the smile of the fully inebriated, and I returned it with a giggle.

  “Man that was good,” Joe Pat said after a resounding burp. “When are y’all cuttin’ the cake?”

  “The cake!” Anita yelled, hopping up. A table was rolled out, and she dragged us across the floor. While the church’s reception cake was substantial, this one was gigantic; ten layers, each a different flavor, inspired god-like wonder. The top layer was carefully removed and spirited away to be hermetically sealed until our first anniversary. I fully assumed it would be frost-bitten and vile, but breaking with protocol would not win me any favors.

  “How do you feel about orange?” I asked Pete as I sliced into the next layer.

  “I’ll take whatever you dish out.”

  “Oh really?” After so many drinks, I felt loose and fully carefree, so I picked up a large chunk, goo dripping from my fingers, and crammed it into his mouth, fruity filling going everywhere.

  His eyes flared in shock, and then evil itself took control of his features. “Two can play at that game, darlin’.”

  “Not the dress!” I squeaked, turning to flee.

  In the blink of an eye, I was against his warm chest. “Nothin’s touchin’ the dress, but you’ll have to take your medicine like a big girl.”

  Whacking off another large hunk then seemingly weighing his options, he touched it to the tip of my nose ever so lightly. Then, after taking a giant bite of frosting, his lips fell on mine. I tasted all things orange and creamy. After another gooey bite, he planted sloppy kisses across my cheeks and chin, leaving a smeared trail of sticky icing in their wake. Finally licking his lips, he said, “Delicious. And the cake’s not bad either. Wanna try it?” He pinched off a tiny bit and sweetly placed it in my mouth.

  22

  Slurry Serenade

  Several men pushed the tables to the edges of the platform, and a scruffy looking set of musicians took up their instruments. The master of ceremonies, whose smooth voice sounded rather familiar, took the microphone and began speaking about the importance of family, friends, and some other sappy stuff; it was sweet. When he announced the first dance in grand fashion, I realized he was one of the WSFL radio’s DJs.

  As there were no fathers to dance with, and only one mother, Pete did his duty and made her feel very special. I couldn’t hear his words, but she nodded a great deal and wiped her eyes at one point. He kissed her cheek and then shook Gary’s hand as he handed her off to him.

  Pete’s eyes found mine, and as our dance was announced, he took me in his arms, and we traveled around the floor as if born to the task, my mother’s camera flashes nearly keeping time to the music. Suddenly cymbals crashed, and the band cranked out a mix of old rock tunes. I don’t want to suggest they were good, but I’d certainly heard worse.

  Nearly an hour later, or quite possibly ten minutes—honestly, I had no idea, I realized I hadn’t seen Lexi in a while. Fearing she’d left, I started asking around. She’d last been sighted walking towards the dock. Her desire for a few minutes of quiet didn’t surprise me; she’d been gawked at and harassed for most of the evening. I felt partly responsible, but in the greater scheme of things, she was the one who’d decided to get all famous.

  I didn’t want another decade to pass without seeing her, so I gathered up my skirt and padded through the freshly plowed dirt after her. A flash of pink ahead caught my eye. As I carefully made my way down the wooded path, I spied Lexi speaking to someone, their heads close together. Lexi let out a light laugh and placed a hand on his arm in a clearly flirtatious move. Surprised, I shuffled through the eligible bachelors at the party, wondering who on earth she might have found both attractive and remotely near her age. Just as he leaned in to kiss her, a large insect crawled across my foot.

  “Eek!” I squealed, trying to shake it off. When I glanced up, Lexi wore a shocked expression…as did Laney. My jaw dropped like a drawbridge on rusted chains, and I simply stood there, waiting for supportive, insightful—or really, any intelligent words whatever to leave my lips. Evidently, my brain was on full lockdown. After a full moment of awkward silence, I finally said, “Okay, I don’t even know what to do with this.”

  “Susan—” Lexi started.

  “I’m totally okay with—I mean, it’s totally cool, but…Laney?” I finally stammered.

  Laney flicked her ci
garette in the water and smirked at me. “You can’t be that slow.”

  “Well, I had my suspicions, sure,” I said, lying and feeling monumentally stupid for doing so. “I don’t care in the slightest—really, not at all, but…Lexi?”

  Her laugh tinkled in the night. “Susan, I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I had a terrible crush on you in college. I knew you were hopelessly straight, and there’d be no way of convincing you otherwise, but some things in life you just can’t help.” She shrugged. “I love women. I always have.”

  Stowing that concept away for another time, I said, “But all those romance books?”

  She shook her head disapprovingly. “You never did have an imagination.” Totally untrue.

  My mind literally blown, I had no idea how to properly respond, so I said, “Oh. Well, of course. Sure. Okay then, I’m going to—um, Pete needs me…I think. I’ll just leave you two to…you know, um…” I turned and hurried up the path, never feeling more stupid in my entire life. But then I stopped; this was totally ridiculous. I ran back and threw my arms around Lexi’s neck, hugging her fiercely. “You were the best roommate a girl could ever have and the most fantastic friend. Thank you so much for coming to my wedding. Thank you for…” Unexpected tears pricked my eyes. “Please stay in touch. I, I don’t want to lose you again.”

  For the first time since I’d known her, Lexi returned my affection, and after releasing me glanced at Laney. “I might have a reason to visit.” Laney’s lips curled up in a rare and interesting smile.

  “Yes! You should visit Laney. Laney’s awesome You should definitely…” They both looked at my babbling self. “Okay, I’ll go now. Thanks for coming, Lexi!”

  “You okay, Susie-Q?” Pete asked when I flew into his arms.

  Really all I could do was shake my head. Then I burst out laughing, and I laughed and laughed until I could barely breathe. I pressed my lips to Pete’s ear and told him everything.