by Lili Valente
“You’re sweet, Mr. Knight,” she says, a catch in her voice. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”
“Thanks for coming to mine,” I say, meaning every word.
And then I press my lips to hers, saying the rest of the things that need to be said with a kiss.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Ten months later
From the group text archives of Aidan Knight,
Sebastian “Bash” Prince, Penny Pickett, and Shane Willoughby
Penny: I LOVE THESE IDEAS! I LOVE THEM SO HARD I HAVE TO USE ALL THE CAPS! ALL OF THEM!! THEY’RE ALL MINE!!
OMG, IT’S GOING TO BE SO AMAZING!!
Aidan: Are you sure?
You and Bash aren’t mad at us for stealing your thunder? You were engaged first. So if you want us to wait, we will. It’s not a big deal. Nothing is set in stone yet.
Penny: OMG, DON’T BE CRAZY. YOU HAVE TO GET MARRIED THIS WEEKEND! IF YOU DON’T I’M GOING TO CRY BECAUSE YOU GOT ME ALL EXCITED ABOUT A CHIHUAHUA FLOWER GIRL AND THEN STOLE IT AWAY.
CHIHUAHUA. FLOWER. GIRL!
Seriously, though, all caps aside, Bash and I don’t care at all, do we Bash?
Bash: Not even a little bit. And our wedding is still five months away. You’re nowhere close to stepping on our toes. I also love your ideas, but what do we do if the dog poops in the courthouse?
If I pull strings with Judge Lawrence and then get poop on his carpet he’ll tell my mother, and then my mother will rip me a new asshole. I’m sure she’s going to dump the judge sooner or later, the way she dumps all her man toys, but for now she’s pretty into him.
Shane: I’m on it! I’ll bring a cloth runner to lay down, something that will be pretty for Cat to walk down and protect the judge’s carpet at the same time. That way, if Fang has an anxiety attack and loses control, we can just wrap it up and take it with us.
But I don’t think it will be a problem. She’s been housebroken for a while and she’s not a nervous dog. She does well in large groups.
I’m more worried about the reception. Are you sure we can fit a hundred people in the new studio?
Aidan: Totally. It’s still just empty space. The floors are done and the window was painted yesterday, but I’m not bringing in the furniture until next week. The rest of the space can be mingle room and dance floor. A friend from the gym is going to D.J.
We can just set up a couple of folding tables for food, Bash will play bartender in one corner, and we’ll be good to go.
Penny: He’s going to bartend the shit out your reception, buddy.
He’s been practicing all week. By Saturday, he’ll either be an expert, or signed up for a twelve-step program.
Bash: I will not! I haven’t even given myself a hangover yet.
And how am I supposed to know if my drinks are delicious if I don’t TASTE THEM, Pickett? You’re certainly no help, you lightweight.
Penny: Is it still “tasting” if you taste them all the way to the last drop?
Bash: You’re just jealous that I’m so dedicated to my new art. You’re afraid I’m going to become a famous mixologist, and you’ll have to share me with my hordes of adoring fans.
Penny: Hush. You’re ridiculous.
Bash: I am not.
Penny: Please, save it for when we’re at home. Aidan is trying to decide serious stuff here, and this is a group text. Keep it classy.
Bash: I am keeping it classy! I haven’t used a single farting emoticon.
Shane: Why not? That sounds like fun. I love emoticons!
Aidan: Don’t we all? But I’m trying to plan a wedding in less than a week.
Bash: farting flying squirrel That’s a new one my future sisters-in-law sent me last week. I love how it looks like he’s being propelled by fart power.
Aidan: Focus, people. We’ve covered the ceremony and drinks, now
Bash: farting Buddha That might be sacrilegious, but I don’t care. The smile on his face as he lets loose a stench cloud is too perfect.
Shane: LOL! Omg, I love it.
He’s clearly found enlightenment. I wonder what it smells like…
Bash: Penny, invite Shane over to poker night. I like her. We need more girls who appreciate my sense of humor.
Penny: Done. Now let’s get back on task.
Aidan: Speaking of group gatherings, my reception is still not fully planned. What about decorations? Cat offered to—
Bash: One more! farting celery emoticon
I’m not sure why someone took the time to code a farting celery, but that’s part of what makes it so great. It’s really—
Penny: BASH! BEHAVE!
Aidan: DOES THIS REALLY HAVE TO BE LIKE HERDING CATS?!
Seriously, I like you people, but I don’t want this to be half-assed at the last minute. This is the only time I’m getting married, and I would like it to be nice for the woman who has so generously consented to marry my ass.
I don’t want her to start having second thoughts at the reception, for Christ’s sake.
Bash: I’m sorry, friend. Sometimes I forget how squishy your underbelly is these days. And then you say something like that and I remember.
We will not fuck this up. No way, no how.
The wedding and the reception will be amazing. Leave all the food and drink stuff to Penny and me. She was raised by a movie star and is great at this kind of shit, and I am good at doing what she tells me to do. It will be fabulous.
Shane: And I’ll handle decorations. One of the benefits of running a charitable trust that throws lots of parties: I have access to TONS of decoration options.
And after a decade of friendship I know what Cat likes. I’ve got this scattered, smothered, and covered.
Aidan: Thank you. Good. Great.
deep breath
I’m seriously breathing easier.
You don’t know what a load off this is. I was so happy that she said yes that I didn’t think about how crazy it would be to plan a wedding in a week.
Shane: You’re so welcome, Fuzzy. I’m thrilled for you both!
Penny: Me too! IT’S GOING TO BE AMAZING!
Bash: Me three. I’m seriously happy for you, brother. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.
Aidan: Thanks, people. I couldn’t do this without you.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I should have done this without my friends.
Without my family.
Without anyone to observe just in case Cat comes to her senses at the last minute and decides to make a run for it. We’ve been running with our new Dasher club almost every weekend, so I know for a fact that she can make some serious tracks. For all I know, she could be halfway to the Bronx by now.
God, what’s taking so long?
Bash and I have been in position at the front of the courtroom for a good ten minutes, and from the look on the judge’s face, he’s starting to regret staying late to sneak in a private ceremony.
“Relax,” Bash whispers out of the side of his mouth. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Where is she?” I mutter, sweat breaking out at the small of my back beneath my tux.
“Probably just having technical difficulties,” he says. “Maybe her dress wouldn’t zip or she was allergic to the flowers and they made her mascara run.”
I curse softly.
Bash leans close enough to bump my shoulder with his. “Or the dog. It’s probably the dog. Fang is probably rolling around on the floor in protest of that flower puppy dress. You know she’s too badass for lace.”
I swallow hard, trying to come up with an appropriately smartass reply to keep my mind off of my senseless freak out. Cat and I are good, better than good, and deep down I know she would never leave me standing at the judge’s desk. But at that moment, the doors at the back of the room open. Seconds later, Fang, dressed in her flower puppy duds, runs down the aisle to jump into Shane’s lap with a victorious bark, just like we practiced. The assembled friends and family murmur with laughter, and the judge grunts in a
pproval, but I’m not paying attention to any of them anymore.
My eyes are all for the bombshell at the back of the room.
There she is. Red. My Red, looking stunning in her off-the-shoulder dress, with flowers in her hair and a smile that assures me she’s every bit as ready to get married as I am. My heart starts thumping so hard it feels like it’s going to rip a hole through my chest. I’m so happy—and simultaneously worried that I’m about to have a heart attack—that I don’t notice my father beside her, walking her down the aisle, until they’re three steps into the room.
But the moment I see his beaming face, I realize this must be why we’re running late.
Jim must have required some convincing to do the honors. He started acting weird again last week, when I called to announce that Cat and I were doing the courthouse thing instead of a big wedding. If I hadn’t been so busy planning everything, to spare Cat the stress, since she’s covered up with campaign planning for her city council bid, I would have worried that the old man and I were heading into another rough patch.
But when his gaze meets mine and I smile, letting him see how grateful I am that he loves Cat, too, I know the rough patch has been averted. Cat’s made sure of it. She’s taken care of me, again, the way she does in a hundred different ways every day. She swears I do the same for her, that she would never have had the guts to run for office without me, and that she’s happier than she ever dreamt she could be.
But as she walks down the aisle, dressed in white, ready to say, “I do,” for the rest of our lives, I make a silent promise to make her even happier.
“Take care of her, son,” Jim says gruffly, as he and Cat stop beside me.
“I will, Dad.” I draw him in for a hug. “I promise.”
Jim pulls away first, but I can tell he’s one happy bastard. So am I. I love that we’re in such a better place. But the moment my dad sits down, he vanishes from my awareness. I no longer have room in my thoughts for anything but the woman I’m about to marry.
“Last chance,” she whispers as we turn to face the judge. “Dash now or dash never, Curve.”
“Never, Panties.” I tuck her hand into my arm, folding my fingers over hers. “This Curve is yours for life.”
“Lucky me.” She grins so hard I know she’s thinking naughty things, because she’s my perfect match, the kind of girl who has no trouble wearing white while making references to my penis at the altar.
But she still cries during the ceremony. I do, too, a little, but in the car on the way to the reception Cat assures me that no one but her could see. I assure her that I couldn’t care less—I’m too in love with her to worry about losing my man card for tearing up at my own wedding—and then we’re at the shop, and it’s time for the final surprise of the day.
“Close your eyes.” I wrap my arm around her waist, turning her to face the street as she steps out of the car.
“Why?” she asks with a laugh. “What have you done?”
“Just a little something, but it has a story to go with it.” I tighten my grip on her, refusing to let her turn around. “So close your eyes, woman. Now.”
“All right, all right.” She closes her eyes and wiggles her ass, rubbing against where I’m getting thicker because that’s what two seconds of touching this woman does to me. “Tell me the story.”
“Once upon a time there was a man who loved his job,” I say, leaning down to murmur the words in her ear. “He loved it so much he named his shop Ink Addicts. And the name fit because he couldn’t imagine being addicted to anything else. But he was wrong.”
“Was he?” she asks, sounding like she likes the story so far.
“He was,” I continue. “Because there was this woman he’d never been able to get out of his head, this amazing, crazy, smart, funny, perfect woman who came back into his life when he least expected it and showed him what he’d been missing.”
Her hands fold over mine and squeeze. “And what was that?”
“Everything,” I say, my voice catching, because it’s true. She is everything, and I can’t believe I ever thought I had a full life without her. “I was missing all the good stuff. But now I’m not. Now I have my favorite person with me all the time, and a place where I’ll always belong, no matter where we go or what we do. Because you are my home, Mrs. Catherine Knight, and words can’t express how happy I am that you’re mine.”
“Oh man, I love you,” she says, sniffing as I turn us both around to face the shop window. “But don’t make me cry. I just got my mascara unsmudged.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Okay. I’ll stop. I just wanted you to know that I have a new addiction, and therefore, the shop has a new name. Open your eyes and check it out.”
She sniffs again, swiping at her cheeks as her eyes open. Almost immediately, she breaks into a delighted laugh. “Oh my God, is that Fifi?”
“It is.” I shift so I can see her face. “I was going to make the logo a pin-up style drawing of you, but I decided I didn’t want to share you with every asshole who comes in the front door. And Fang looked so kick ass in that leather jacket, it was really a no-brainer.”
“The Cat’s Fang,” she says, nodding slowly. “It’s the perfect name. Badass, but adorable, just like you.”
“I feel like I should say I’m not adorable, just to maintain street cred. But I already cried at my wedding, so I’m going to let that go without a fight.”
“You should.” She turns, twining her arms around my neck, beaming up at me. “I love this surprise. And I love you. And I love being your wife. I know it’s only been half an hour, but I’m pretty sure it’s the best thing ever.”
“I’m glad you think so.” I hug her closer, setting that now familiar fire to burning in the air between us. “And thanks for the thing with Dad. You made his year, I’m sure. He loves you a lot.”
“My pleasure. I love him, too.” She wrinkles her nose. “But he was asking about kids again today. I get the feeling a Chihuahua grandbaby isn’t going to be enough for him for much longer.”
“You didn’t tell him we were going to start trying, did you?”
She shakes her head, threading her fingers into my hair. “No way. Your penis and my vagina are none of his business.”
“Speaking of,” I say, my cock thickening. “Think we have time for a quickie in the new bathroom before everyone else arrives?”
“Considering Shane and Fifi are getting out of a cab at the end of the block right now, that’s doubtful,” she says, laughing. “Don’t look so sad, babe. I heard from a little bird that you’re getting lucky as soon as we get home tonight. Like, all night long lucky.”
I hug her tight. “Yeah? All night long?”
“All night long and into tomorrow,” she says, tilting her head back and bringing her lips closer to mine. “Because you look hot as hell in this tux. And since Fifi’s staying with Shane until we’re back from the honeymoon, we don’t have to worry about any spanking confusion.”
Spanking confusion—aka when Fang hears me slapping Cat’s ass through the door, thinks I’m hurting her mama, and whines like someone’s dying outside while Cat and I are trying to come—is a pain in the balls. “Spanking confusion is my least favorite part of being a dog dad. But I like the thought of knocking you up while I’m spanking you and fucking you hard from behind. Is that wrong?”
Her eyes glitter with lust and love and that particular breed of trouble that is hers and hers alone. “If it is, I don’t ever want you to be right.”
Her lips touch mine, but before we can make the moment into a proper mini-make out session, a firm, wiggling body squirms between our legs. We separate in time to see Fang, wearing the leather jacket I gave Shane to change her into as part of the surprise for Cat, running away down the street, hauling ass toward Washington Square Park. A moment later, Shane streaks after her, moving fast for a woman wearing three-inch heels.
“Fifi, come back here!” she shouts, before waving an arm our way. “Don’t w
orry, I’ll get her and bring her back. She’ll be fine! I swear! This is a game we play when we go walking in Central Park. She runs away, but she always comes back in a few minutes.”
Cat’s brow furrows with worry.
Before she can say a word, I assure her, “Of course we’re going to help get Fifi back on her leash. We’re responsible dog parents, and that’s what we do.”
Relief, mixed with enough affection to make me sure I’m the luckiest man in the world, floods her expression. “I love you. But don’t get any more perfect, okay? Or I’m going to start worrying that I’m dreaming again.”
“I’ll try,” I say, though I have no intention of doing anything of the sort. I’m not perfect, but I’m going to keep being as perfect for her as I can be, from now until the last day I’m lucky enough to hold her in my arms.
As if she knows exactly what I was thinking—which she probably does—she presses a kiss to my cheek with a happy humming noise. “Come on. You call her, and I’ll wait behind a stairway and pounce as soon as she gets close.”
It takes fifteen minutes, but we get Fifi back on her leash, get Shane calmed down, and get all of us back to the party. And for the next few hours, I celebrate with my friends before going home to make love to my very best friend.
And it lasts all night long, just that way she promised.
EPILOGUE
Two months later
And now something from Ferocious Fang
AKA Fifi, the Chihuahua
The sun is shining, the first hint of autumn is in the air, and it’s a beautiful day to be headed for the park! I’m so excited I can’t contain a delirious, head to tail, full body wag as I join my Cat by the door. My squirming makes it hard for my adorable human to get my harness on, but I can’t help myself.
We’re going to the park! The park!
And I’m going to see Lucky, the most wonderful dog in the world! I’m so happy I could bark, and I do, numerous times, until my Cat tells me to shush and picks me up to carry me down the stairs.
