Page 167 of Bride By Initiation

Her cheeks turn red. "Okay."

I wiggle my eyebrows and glance at Fiona.

She shakes her head, grinning.

Shannon's usually the first to get hit on. We tease her that it has something to do with her red hair, but she really is stunning. She has all the best features of the O'Malleys and Ivanovs, which, when mixed together, makes her worthy of cover model status. And as much as she gets hit on, she always seems surprised. But she easily swoons overher suitors and tends to get a bit caught up in men earlier than she should.

The ladies disperse, and we follow them to the dance floor. We spend hours moving to the beat, and it feels good. It's like Fiona and I are back to normal.

Several men try to dance with me, but I don't allow it. It feels weird to get hit on, especially by guys I'd normally be interested in, when I'm married to Sean. But no bone in my body wants anything to do with them.

Why aren't I bored yet?

When's Sean going to get bored of me?

I continue to dance, happy that things are so good between us. Yet I can't help wondering when it'll end. Which one of us will be the first to want it to end?

We can't do anything about it when it happens.

We're married for eternity.

A horrible feeling hits me.

Fiona tears me out of my thoughts, yelling, "I need to go to the bathroom."

"I'll go with you," I yell back, needing to take a breather.

We weave through the crush of bodies, then enter the women's restroom. We do our business and then meet at the counter.

Fiona opens her purse and takes out her lipstick.

I do the same.

She asks, "So, are you tired of my brother yet? You can admit it." She glides the red stain over her lips.

"No, not at all."

She arches her eyebrows and puts her fingers together. "Not even a little bit?"

I think about her question and then shake my head. "No. It's been great, actually."

She wrinkles her nose. "I don't know how that's possible with Sean."

I laugh. "That's because he's your brother."

"Well, I'm glad you two are happy."

"You are?" I question, surprised.

She nods. "Yeah, of course. If you're going to do something that dumb, you might as well be happy."

I hug her. "Thanks for tonight. And thanks for"—I study her a moment—"kind of forgiving me."

Her lips curve into a tight smile.

"Admit it, you're forgiving me," I push.

Her face falls. "I'm halfway there. But I still don't understand how you could have gotten married without me."

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