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“Would you hand me those last couple glasses?” I asked Wes over my shoulder as I lifted my gloved hands from the soapy dishwater

and air-dried them by flinging drops back down into the sink.

“Nope,” he responded from behind me.

“Nope?”

“Nope.” He brushed my hair away from the nape of my neck and then wrapped his arms around my waist as he began kissing a path

down the back of my neck and onto my shoulder.

“Come on,” I protested, even while I leaned against him and welcomed the distraction. “That’s all I have left to clean up,

and then—”

“Nope!” he repeated and lifted me up and spun me around to face him. “No one as beautiful as you should have to wash dishes.”

I directed my eyes to the dozens of pieces of drying china and stemware, laid out on dish towels across the entire countertop,

representing the hour or so I had already committed to dishwashing. I returned my focus back to him, my eyebrow raised.

“Well, okay... no one as beautiful as you should have to finish washing the dishes.” He smiled and kissed me, and I laughed.

I knew his heart was in the right place, and if he hadn’t been so busy taking down strings of lights in the backyard, he no doubt would have called off my dish crusade much earlier.

“Seriously, I’ll finish up before I head home.

Right now, just sit with me for a minute. ”

I pulled the rubber gloves from my hands and draped them over the faucet, then took his offered hand to walk with him to the

living room.

“Actually...” He stopped in the open space between the kitchen and the living room and twirled me around, then captured

me in his arms and pulled me against him. “How about one more dance before we return to the land of hoodies and sweatpants?”

“Aww!” I clasped his face in my hands and kissed him. “That was sweet of you to say that in a way that made it sound like

we both live in that land.” He chuckled and pulled me tighter against him, resting his cheek against mine. “You really should join

me there sometime. It’s a lovely place.”

“I honestly find you just as irresistible in your sweats as I do this .” He twirled me out and gently tugged me back. “Though, let me say again, this dress...” He growled softly against my

ear.

I melted against him and counted on his arms to keep me upright as the warmth of his breath heated me from head to toe. “Thank

you. I won’t deny it was fun getting dressed up for a change. Not that I want to do it again anytime too soon.”

“No?” He tilted his head back to look at me. “This is just a wedding occurrence, huh?”

“Yeah, I think so. Weddings, cotillions, Truman Capote’s black-and-white ball, occasional Hollywood awards shows maybe, but

otherwise...”

“Just think. If I’d stayed in the presidential race, Laila might have needed to design you about eleven different gowns for

eleven different inaugural balls.”

“Don’t tell her that. You may find your name mysteriously back on the ballot.”

It had been a bittersweet thing, watching him maneuver through all of that back at the end of January and into the beginning of February.

I was so glad he’d made the decision he made, of course, and it was obvious he was at peace about it all.

But certain things had been difficult for him to swallow.

Things like finding out that Phil Brewster had been the one to hide his divorce filing, and—much more offensive to Wes—that he’d also been Sebastian’s anonymous, untraceable source.

I’m pretty sure he’d spent most of February wishing he’d ditched Phil in the middle of the desert after all.

The bittersweet part, at least for me, had been watching Wes on television, answering in a dignified and somehow endearing

way every question they threw at him and realizing just how great he would have been.

Ultimately, he’d refused to go through with the annulment, which could have been legalized posthumously, since Wray had been

the one to file. Instead, he sat down with Sebastian on national television and told the truth about a marriage that had been

based in friendship and honesty and mutual respect. Not fraud.

I leaned my cheek against his shoulder. “Any regrets?”

“About dropping out?”

I nodded.

“Oh no. Not about dropping out. Not one.”

“About other things, then?” I lifted my head and looked up at him. “Things we haven’t already dealt with, I mean.”

He shook his head and stopped swaying. “I don’t think so.” He put a few inches between us and reached into the inside pocket

of his jacket. “And if it’s okay with you, I’d really like to keep it that way—”

“Yes.”

His hand wasn’t even fully out of his pocket yet, and I don’t think he registered what I said. “Addie, I have loved you since

before I had any idea what love was. All I knew was you were the thing that mattered most, and—”

“I said yes, Wes. I’ll marry you.”

His eyes flitted back and forth, and then he squinted a bit and leaned in. “But I haven’t even—”

“Okay, fine.” I shrugged and walked over to the couch and leaned up against the back of it. “Do it your way. Go on.”

He scoffed. “Well, it doesn’t seem very romantic now, does it?”

“No, by all means, go ahead. Had you prepared a speech? A seventeenth-century sonnet recitation, perhaps?”

He attempted to hide his smile as he crossed his arms and walked slowly toward me. “If you must know, I was going to read

you the vows I wrote for our first wedding.”

I gasped and covered my mouth. “Really? Now I do feel bad! Please read them. Please .”

He snapped his fingers. “Shoot! No, I was just making that up. But now I wish I had them. How great would that be? I could

try to remember what I wrote, I guess. It probably rhymed. Maybe I was going to rap for you?”

I laughed and reached out for the lapels of his jacket and pulled him to me as he continued. “I probably said something about

your rockin’ bod. Actually, I can almost guarantee I did.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his phone. “Let

me call Cole real quick. I bet he’ll remember.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and captured his mouth and had the genuine pleasure of being the one to take his breath

away for a change. “Shut up and give me my ring,” I muttered against his lips, and he smiled and threw his phone on the couch

before raising my left hand between us and slipping the ring onto my finger.

“Well, now I guess I regret not asking you sooner. If I’d known it was going to be that easy...”

I lifted my hands to his face and shook my head. “This was the right time.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you too.”

He kissed me again—softly and slowly in a way that somehow carried promises of an unhurried life.

“Besides,” I added when he pulled me back into his arms and once again began leading me to the tempo of music only we could

hear, “where’s the fun in easy?”