Page 35 of Reunion
“I wasn’t going to say a damn word,” I assured him with a chuckle.
“Good.” With his free hand, he reached into my breast pocket, tugged my handkerchief free, and kept it clutched in his fist as we stood and angled toward the church doors. Then he shot me another threatening look, as if he was afraid I hadn’t gotten the memo the first time. “This is just in case, of course.”
“Of course.” I eyed the silky cloth, then him and pressed a kiss to his temple. “My allergies are flaring today, too.”
Cole tried to maintain the solemn expression but failed, dissolving into a helpless laugh. “You’re such an asshole.”
“I know. I love you. And your sensitive tear ducts, too.” In spite of my tease, he curled into my embrace. He was such a sucker for affection, I couldn’t help but give it to him at every turn, as if I had to make up for all those years I’d missed out on, all those times I’d wanted to touch him like this in high school and been too afraid to. Now he was mine to touch whenever I liked, and very soon, I intended to make that permanent.
“It’s ridiculous. I hardly even know him, but now that there’s a string quartet involved, I’m doomed.”
“I’m sure that’s exactly what they were thinking when they planned the wedding: this string quartet will make everyone cry. Especially Cole Green.”
“I wouldn’t put it past them.” Cole huffed. “I think Chase likes the drama.”
“You might be onto something there,” I said, and then we quieted as Chase and his groom, Lance, walked down the aisle arm in arm and in matching tuxes.
“I’m still not quite sure why we were invited.” Cole spoke from the side of his beaming smile and upnodded Chase as he passed by.
“He heard a rumor that we give good wedding gifts?” I wasn’t sure, either. We didn’t hang out with Chase, though we crossed paths fairly regularly. The last time we’d run into him while Cole and I were picking up coffee and croissants, Chase had vaguely but emphatically insisted we were instrumental in his impending nuptials. None of us had mentioned his previous offer to be our creamy filling at Shay and Aaron’s wedding, but Cole and I had laughed at the memory the moment he exited the shop. And then we proceeded to return to our apartment and reenact that night.
A week later, we’d received the wedding invitation.
Cole leaned back against me as Chase and Lance stopped in front of the preacher and turned toward each other. The quiet hiss he let out when I dropped a hand to his waist and ran my fingers over the top of his ass thrilled me. I pressed another kiss to the crown of his head and tried to pay attention as we sat back down and the ceremony got underway. When he began dabbing his eyes with my handkerchief, I clutched his hand tighter and thanked whatever was above us for bringing him back to me.
At the reception, we moved among the hors d’oeuvres tables, drinking champagne and chatting with other guests. Cole spotted one of his coworkers from Zen, the advertising firm in town where he’d gotten a job shortly after turning down the offer in New York. Two weeks after that, he’d moved into my apartment. It had been fast, and maybe a bit reckless. But even Grandma Merkle had stopped giving us the skeptical side eye after six months.
After Cole said hello to his coworker, I hooked an elbow through his and steered him toward the dessert display, where ramekins of crème brûlée were calling my name. I planned for us to do a quick sampling and then head home, because I wanted all the alone time I could get with Cole before an upcoming business trip would see me gone most of the week.
Both of our phones dinged at the same time.
Aaron:It’s a…
Shay:Boy!
Shay:…
Aaron:And a boy!
Cole gasped, and I touched my pocket. “Do you need my handkerchief again?”
“Oh god no, not for children.” He said it as if my implication was insane, but his smile was bright with the news and proved infectious.
“Bless their hearts. They’d better start stocking up now.” Shay had gotten pregnant almost immediately after the wedding, though she swore she wasn’t trying and blamed Grandma Merkle for cursing her by mentioning she and Aaron looked like afertilecouple.
Cole nodded in sympathy. “Can you imagine the number of diapers?”
“And what if they both play sports?”
“Sounds expensive. You know what’s less expensive?”
“Video games. Cats. Dogs. Birds. Anythingotherthan children.”
“But we’ll spoil the hell out of theirs.” I was already envisioning holidays with the expanding Green clan. Neither Cole nor I wanted our own, but spending the past Christmas with his family had been a riot, and we’d had a shockingly good time picking out Christmas gifts together for his many cousins.
“Absolutely,” Cole agreed, then tugged my hand. “Are you thinking dessert and ditch?”
“You took the words right out of my mouth.” I eyed the array of tiered cakes, pies, crème brûlées, and cookies. “I think they must have spent more on the desserts than the dinner buffet.”