Page 25 of I Do, or Dye Trying

“Oh, I saw one of those at Brook’s Pets! That’s much more cost effective than the one from Tiffany & Co. that I was picturing,” Josh told me. “Maybe I’ll just ink your name on my forehead or something.” From there it went downhill with one ridiculous suggestion after another.

“Why don’t I smell baking pies?” I asked suspiciously after we were done laughing at ourselves.

“They’re soaking in my secret sauce,” Josh told me, waggling his eyebrows.

“What’s your secret sauce?” I asked.

“Follow me, and I’ll show you something that I’ve never shared with anyone else,” he said mysteriously. There was no way that I could resist an offer like that! Downstairs in the kitchen, Josh pulled out a large bowl covered in plastic wrap from the refrigerator. I knew exactly what was in his secret sauce the second he peeled back the plastic wrap. The apples were soaking in bourbon.

“Deanna doesn’t stand a chance,” I said smugly.

WE SURVIVED OUR FIRSTlittle tiff as a couple and came out stronger on the other side. It couldn’t get any better than that. Thinking that Gabe and I would never argue was stupid because we both had strong opinions on just about everything and we were both stubborn. I also learned that I fell back into old habits and was quick to strike out when Gabe hurt my feelings. Striking and counterstriking was not an effective way to resolve issues and would never lead to a happy union.

Gabe, as usual, was onto me and knew my insecurities had once again reared their ugly heads and was leading the assault when he didn’t immediately jump all over the offer to co-own my salon. Besides my heart, Curl Up and Dye was the most precious thing that I could share with him.Note the growth here! I want it on record that I didn’t say a damn thing about my pleasure portal.When he rejected my suggestion outright without a discussion, I took it the absolute wrong way and snapped at him.

Watching him walk out the door with Buddy nearly killed me. The kiss he gave me before he left expressed his intentions of coming back to me, but how many times had life fucked over someone’s plans to return home? I was sure the evil bastard had lost track of the number of lives he had ruined. I couldn’t dwell on that—or Emory’s prediction—and retain my sanity, so I went upstairs after soaking my apples in bourbon and cinnamon.

I got lost in the music and found comfort in the way it rolled through me, blocking my thoughts and worries, which was good unless I wanted to risk a nasty injury. I didn’t mind so much if Gabe caused me to pull a muscle during an enthusiastic sexual performance, but I wasn’t too excited about the potential of a broken bone—or worse, a broken neck—from falling off my pole. I couldn’t imagine explaining that one to the hospital and doubted they’d believe it, which could mean another IA investigation for Gabe. Luckily, none of that happened.

My intense focus on the routine also meant that I didn’t know Gabe was in the room with me until he clapped. The heartfelt discussion that occurred afterward was adorable, the secret sauce reveal was fun, and the make-up sex was phenomenal. There were not enough adjectives in the English language to do it justice but toe-curling and life-affirming were the first two that came to mind. The only rough spot came when it was time to put our rings in the drawer until our wedding day. I had only worn the ring for a short time, but my finger felt naked without it. Still, I meant what I had told him and stood by my decision.

The next afternoon, Gabe hovered while I made the crust for the pies. “Just seeing what other magic you have up your sleeve.”

“Baby, you’ve been up my sleeve plenty of times to know what magic it holds inside for you. It’s the Magic Cumdom,” I said.Yeah, I hadn’t grown that damn much.Gabe’s response was to pinch my ass hard enough to make me yelp.

“You know damn well I’m talking about secret sauces,” he told me. “Don’t even,” he said when I opened my mouth for rebuttal.Come on! How can I resist when he leaves himself wide open for such remarks?“Do you add alcohol to the crust or is it just the filling in a boozy apple pie?”

“Drunken apple pie,” I corrected him. “No booze in the crust and the alcohol bakes out in the oven and just leaves behind a rich flavor that takes the pie to a whole new level.”

“I’ll say,” Gabe replied. “Um, are you making an extra pie just for me?” The hopeful look in his eye and the way he bit his lip was so damn adorable. My man loved his apple pie almost as much as he loved me.

I divided the dough into four pieces so I could make two pies. “Of course, I am.” I pointed to the empty saucepan on the stove and the ingredients he set out. “Don’t you think you should start whipping together the new barbecue recipe you found?”

“Yeah, okay,” he said like he hated to look away from the pie. “Don’t get too distracted by my awesomeness at the stove and fuck up the pie. I’m sure Deanna is a nice woman, but she married a mouthy man who needs a set down. He thinks he’s going to bring his wife over here and beat my guy at pie baking. Does he think because you have a pair of balls that you can’t bake?”

God, I have created a monster.“Babe, has John ever talked about either of us in a demeaning way?”

“No, but he’s a smug punk just the same. I invited him to our home, and he wants to throw down with a bake-off. I’m going to wow him with my special sauce too so that he knows not to challenge my grilling abilities.”

I had a feeling that a barbecue battle the likes thatPitmasterhad never seen would soon occur. I stood ready with my bottle of liquor to help Gabe achieve master grilling status for all to fawn over. “What kind of sauce did you decide to make today?” I asked as he poured a can of crushed pineapple into the pot with soy sauce, liquid smoke, and tomato paste before he added brown sugar and some more liquids.

“It’s a Hawaiian barbecue sauce,” Gabe told me. “I was thinking that Hawaii would be an awesome place to go on our honeymoon and it got me looking for sauces I could make today for the chicken.”

“Sounds perfect,” I replied.

Gabe looked up from stirring the sauce and captured my gaze with his charming, boyish grin. “The sauce or the honeymoon destination?”

“Both,” I replied. “How long would you like our honeymoon to be?”

“Hmm,” Gabe said, rolling it around in his brain. “I’d like to hop from island to island, so I was thinking between ten and fourteen days.”

“Wow, that’s a long honeymoon.” I loved the idea of just the two of us for two whole weeks. Our week in the Bahamas for my birthday was amazing but ended too soon. “I love it.”

“We should probably make travel arrangements right away,” Gabe said, turning back to his sauce. “How about tonight after everyone leaves?”

“After I get my victory rim job,” I told him.

Gabe snorted. “Like I need a special occasion to munch on your ass.” He tapped the spoon on the edge of the pan then pointed it at me. “Remember that one time you licked your own ass?” he asked, reminding me of the time I called him Detective Butt Munch and he pointed out that I kissed him afterward so it was like I licked my own hole.