“I wasn’t expecting that kind of wedding night,” he said, kissing my temple.
“But we didn’t, you know,” I trailed off, and he tightened his arms around me.
“Consummate the marriage?” he asked, and I nodded. “Not by the true definition, I suppose, but as far as I’m concerned, you trusting me to bring you to orgasm that way was better than any wedding night I could ever imagine.”
“You’re just saying that,” I insisted. “Men always want sex.”
He snuggled deeper to get both legs of mine to rest over his. “Men want sex because it’s easy, Amber. Sex doesn’t require emotions. What we just did required emotion. Whether you want to face those emotions or not, that’s up to you, but I was never happier to see that you didn’t ask me for sex. You trusted me to make you feel good after you offered me the same release. That’s the mutual respect you want in a relationship.”
“Are you saying I got an A on that assignment?” I asked on a yawn, the heat of him relaxing me after a long day and longer night. Add in that rocking orgasm, and I was so relaxed I could barely keep my eyes open.
I registered that he had fixed the ice pack over my leg again before he kissed my temple. “Tart, not only did you get an A, but you got all the extra credit, too.”
Eleven
The first seventy-two hours of marriage had been blissful. That’s what you’re supposed to say, right? The first few hours were at least, but then real life reared its ugly head again in the form of work, work, and more work. We did manage to get our marriage certificate the next day, and that allowed him to put me on his insurance immediately. He had taken the day off on Tuesday to deal with the wedding, but he still had to finish out the week working on the curriculum with his team at the high school. Per his report, our nuptials had shaken up the town more than we expected. That meant one thing, I had to video-call my parents and tell them we’d gotten married while they were in Florida. It wasn’t ideal, to say the least. They were silent for so long I was afraid the connection had frozen. When I heard the kids playing in the background, I realized they were just struck dumb.
I had to hand it to Bishop, though. He had a real knack with the parental units. He had my mom eating out of the palm of his hand, telling her how he just fell instantly and deeply in love with me. My dad was a harder sell. I’m still not convinced it won’t come to blows when they get back to town, but for now, at least they’re still talking to me. I think my mother was secretly pleased to hear that I’d found a man, any man, to marry me. She was convinced I’d never get married or have kids because of my fears, as though having a diagnosed condition was something to be ashamed of or hide from people. Once she came around to the idea that I’d eloped, she couldn’t stop talking about how we were all going to live on the same street and how close she would be to her grandbabies, both mine and Haylee’s. I tossed my attention right then to Haylee’s new house to avoid more discussion about my marriage, which wasn’t nearly as real as Haylee’s was.
It felt damn real the other night, though. That annoying voice in my head had been doing that since my wedding night. Like it enjoyed pointing out all the ways he’d made me feel in the span of fifteen minutes. I hated that voice. Okay, so I know the voice is me, but I wished I’d shut up more.
I shook my head and leaned back on the chair, my leg propped up on the bed while I finished sorting and organizing the final batch of bakery invoices. Monday, I would interview two more part-time people for the front of the store. I had hired Taylor’s friend on Thursday, and she had started today. The report I got from Haylee was glowing. The girl was a natural at the job and schmoozed with all the gentlemen while their wives were busy shopping. I was thrilled to hear it. If I could find someone who wanted to work the hours I used to cover, that freed up my time for better managing, marketing, and new campaigns, we’ll have time to implement.
“Amber!” A voice yelled from outside, and I tossed the papers, letting out a scream while my heart pounded. “Oh my God, Amber!”
I let out a breath when I realized it was Hay-Hay. When the blood stopped rushing through my head, I noticed her tone of voice was frantic. I pushed away from the pile of papers and grabbed my crutches. By the time I made it down the hallway, she was already coming through my unlocked patio doors.
“Hay-Hay, what’s the matter?” I asked, crutching my way to where she stood by the door with her chest heaving.
“It’s over.”
“What’s over? You and Brady?”
Her head swung wildly while she gathered herself. I pointed at the couch for her to sit, and got her a bottle of water that she swallowed in one gulp. I took it from her and sat. “Okay, start at the beginning.”
“Right, the beginning,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I was working over at the new house, and I got a phone call from the DA.”
“Is this about the trial? Is it ever going to start?” I asked, my tone of voice overly irritated. “I’m so tired of Darla thinking she is going to get away with trying to kill you.”
“She’s not, that’s what I’m trying to tell you!”
“They didn’t find her guilty because the trial hasn’t even started,
