Page 49 of I Do, or Dye Trying

“My peanuts were stale,” my father said.

“My Coke was flat,” Martina added.

“They gave me two little cubes of ice in my cup,” Al said. “You know how I like a lot of ice.”

“They wouldn’t give me a mimosa,” my mom complained. “Hell, I offered to pay for it.”

I looped my arm through my mom’s and said, “I got you covered, Mama.” I had squeezed the orange juice that morning and made sure Gabe picked up champagne when he bought the scotch. “Follow me if you want to eat,” I said in my bestTerminatorvoice. I glanced at Gabe on my way to the kitchen, and his shrewd gaze said that he saw I changed the subject, but he winked at me instead of commenting.

I didn’t realize how ravenous our folks were until Gabe had to pull me to safety when I set the platters on the kitchen island. I wasn’t sure what everyone would like, so I made chicken, tuna, and egg salad sandwiches using a variety of bread for a nice selection. I had a second platter with various veggies and dips.

“Put the potato salad on the island with your right hand because I’m going to need your left hand later,” Gabe said.

“He’s ambidextrous, sweetheart, so play time would still be okay,” my mom said between bites of chicken salad on a buttery croissant. “Get the potato salad, and I promise no one will get hurt.”

“Oh my God,” I muttered quietly on my return trip to the refrigerator. “I can’t believe my mom just implied I could jerk you off with either hand.”

“She was telling the truth,” Gabe said humorously. “I wasn’t thinking about sex for once; I was referring to the hand that will wear the ring that marks you as mine.” There was a touch of growliness in his voice because he still didn’t like that we took off our rings. I tucked them away in our sex toy drawer with another type of ring until our wedding day.

“What’s the status on the potato salad?” Al asked a little frantically, not at all sounding like his usual calm self.

“Coming right up,” I replied before I pecked a kiss on Gabe’s lips quickly then returned to the island with the covered bowl. “Holy crap!” I looked at the platter of sandwiches and saw there were only two out of the dozen I’d made left. It was a damn good thing that we’d eaten before they arrived. “How long were we at the refrigerator?” I asked out loud.

“For the love of God! Bill, use a fork,” my mom demanded when my dad acted as if he was going to eat the mound of potato salad on his plate with his hands.

“Baby, I made a list of things to pack in our carry-on luggage, but I think I’m going to have to amend it,” I told Gabe. “That’s a long flight.”

Gabe leaned over and pressed his lips against my ear. “Don’t forget the lube.” His breath tickled my ear, and his words delighted other parts a little lower.

“I was talking about snacks,” I whispered back.

“You’re my favorite snack.” Gabe nipped my ear with his teeth to demonstrate the validity of his words. Then he growled and made me laugh by nibbling on my neck. “Much better than some granola bar you plan on feeding me.”

I looked up when I realized how quiet the kitchen had become and found four sets of smiling eyes locked on us. Our fathers beamed with pride while our mothers looked at us with joyful tears in their eyes. Emotion rose inside me so swiftly that my head felt like a balloon, but the weight of Gabe’s confident hand on my hip tethered me to him so that I couldn’t float away. It wasn’t an oppressive kind of feeling, he made me feel safe.

“Protein bars,” I corrected, “and I planned other things too.” I honestly hadn’t put any food items on the list, but I was going to remedy that right away. “I’ll come up with a new plan,” I promised him. My first act as a nurturing husband would be to make sure Gabe landed in Honolulu with a full stomach and empty balls.

We took the parents on the grand tour and told them about the renovations we’d made. They fell in love with Savage and Sassy who’d turned into a freaking comedy routine by repeating the lines from movies we watched. I saw the wistful looks on the moms’ faces when I showed them the empty bedrooms we hoped to fill with kids. The looks on their faces when they saw their guest suites made all my fussing worthwhile.

“This room looks like something I’d expect to find in a hotel,” Martina had said. “It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, my favorite flowers,” my mother had exclaimed. “Thank you.” She moved to hug me, so I pointed to Gabe because a glory hog wasn’t an attractive trait in a human being.

We went to dinner after the parents had a chance to rest for a bit. I had wanted to cook but our moms overruled me, insisting that I had enough going on and needed a night of fun. Gabe pulled the keychain for Charlotte off the hook and handed it to me. I just stared at him for several minutes because he’d indicated that no one except him, and maybe his dad, would ever drive her.

“What’s mine is yours,” Gabe said softly. “I want to see you behind her wheel.” There was an emotion I couldn’t quite place in his eyes, but it disappeared behind a brilliant smile when I accepted the keys and his gesture.

I was overly cautious at first because she drove nothing like a modern car and I was terrified of putting a scratch on her. Gabe made fun of me and said that the kid down the street was pedaling his Big Wheel faster than I was driving. I relaxed a bit once I got used to the steering and had a lot of fun.

Dinner with our parents was a riot, and like last time, our fathers squabbled with one another over who should pay. I snatched the bill and paid it without them realizing it until it was too late, like Gabe had done in Miami. I was starting to get suspicious that the geezers were pulling a fast one on us. I meant to bring it up with Gabe once we were alone but forgot all about it when he convinced me to practice how I was going to “quietly pleasure” him on our flight to Hawaii. He returned the favor, of course, and I discovered that trying to keep quiet enhanced my orgasm.

Once we finished, I rested my head over his heart and thanked him for giving me back the joys of fairy tales. Gabe had turned the fantastic and implausible into reality, and made me believe once more.

THE BRAIN IS Astrange organ capable of both awesome and terrifying things. I considered myself a calm and cool guy, but I was overwhelmed by a case of nerves the next morning. It started when reality invaded my dreams again, but instead of Jimmy shooting Josh, my birth mother and sisters rejected me. I had no logical explanation for the path my brain chose in my sleep, yet I woke with an aching heart in the early hours of the morning.

The sun hadn’t fully risen yet, so I silently pleaded with my brain to let me get back to sleep. It didn’t take me long to realize my begging was futile. I rolled over onto my side and watched Josh sleep instead. I loved the play of light and shadows on his face as the sun rose higher in the sky. I wanted to touch him but knew where it would lead if I did, and he needed the rest. Instead, I slipped out of bed, pulled on some pajamas, and went downstairs to make a pot of coffee.

My mom had always been an early riser, so I wasn’t surprised to find that she was up and made coffee already. “I think I love this room the most,” she said when I joined her in the sunroom in the rear of the house. It was my favorite place to read the paper and drink my coffee on Sunday mornings because it reminded me of the porch at my childhood home. “I imagine it will get chilly in here during Ohio winters,” she said.