Page 120 of Game Change

“Thank you,” I whisper. I feel a blush spread over me. “Confession time. I love when you take care of me.”

“Don’t worry about anything, okay?”

I nod. “I’m not worried. I’ve decided not to rebuild, and I’m at peace with it. And I already have some ideas for our home.”

Thankfully, no one was hurt by the fire, and everyone was able to find temporary housing. It’s just a matter of dealing with the insurance and waiting for them to evaluate the property and write me a check. Colin promised that if the insurance payment doesn’t cover the mortgage, he’ll pay the difference.

He hugs me, pulls back, and kisses me tenderly. When he breaks the kiss, I let the towel drop and jump into his arms.

“I think life is pretty much perfect now,” I say against his lips.

“It’s about to get way better,” he says as he carries me to the bedroom.

Epilogue

Colin

One year later

Brynne bastes the giant turkey she insisted on having for Friendsgiving. Uncle Milton is hosting Thanksgiving this year, but Brynne and I decided to host one for friends the week before.

Heath told everyone, and my family invited themselves, including my brother. Things are less frosty between us. Marilyn suggested the four siblings attend family therapy, and Brynne encouraged me. Our relationship might never be close, but it has improved.

“Doesn’t my bird look amazing?” Brynne asks. I look down at it, and it does. It smells great, but I confessed to my wife weeks ago that I do not like turkey. “My mom and I would make turkey pot pie with the leftovers.” Her face lights up when she talks about her mother. “I’m going to make you some.”

My wife is good at about anything. The only thing she says she can’t do is dance, but she got drunk at our rehearsal dinner and let loose. Her dancing turned me on like nothing else.

“Can you put chicken in it instead?”

She comes into my arms and wraps herself around me. “Have I ever cooked you a bad meal?” I pull away and look into her face.

“My wife has never cooked me a bad meal.”

“And out of the two of us, who’s a better cook?”

“I am,” we both say at once.

We still cook together on the nights we eat at home. It’s one of the ways we spend time together. It’s turned competitive. We often have friends and family over and demand they vote on who cooks the best dish. They’ve refused to vote.

“I promise you’ll love this turkey and the pot pie.” She smiles into my face and puckers her perfect lips. I kiss them slowly and lovingly.

We’ve been married for ten months, and it’s been the best of my life. Our wedding was picture-perfect, and when my bride walked down the aisle to me, I lost my breath at her beauty. She wore a long, lace dress. She didn’t cover her face but wore a veil that trailed dramatically behind her.

We married at sunset. It was overcast, and as the sun was setting, it gave everything an orange glow. She looked regal. Her head was held high as she clutched her bouquet of tiger lilies. She'd had a bouquet of wildflowers picked, but I surprised her with the tiger lilies earlier that day.

The only thing that went wrong was her father. He arrived with his wife and Brynne’s half-sister, Blair, whom she had never met. Brynne looks a lot like her father, which means she also looks like her sister, who is ten years younger than her.

Her father assumed he would walk her down the aisle, and when Brynne told him no, he got angry but didn’t pursue it further. He then asked about Blair’s bridesmaid dress. Brynne explained that Raven, Amira, and my sisters would be her bridesmaids, and Milly would serve as a flower girl.

That made her father storm off and leave dinner, and that caused a strain, but Blair apologized on her father’s behalf. She said she didn’t expect to be part of the wedding party since she had never met Brynne and was happy to be invited.

“I don’t like turkey, Honeybee,” I remind my wife.

“But you’ve never hadmyturkey. Don’t tell Colin the First, but his chef’s turkey is bland and dry. Mine is moist and delicious.”

“It sure is, baby, but are we still talking about turkey?”

She giggles and leaves the kitchen. I admire her ass in those brown leather pants. Unable to control myself, I hurry behind her, pull her into me, and caress the curve of her hips.

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