Page 3 of Unicorns Forever
I pushed my lips together and nodded. “Truer words.”
Con’s lips twitched. “Let me take this opportunity to remind you that you knew what you were getting when you married me, Micah. I do not back down from a challenge. As evidenced by the way you and I provoked each other for years.”
I rubbed my nose along his. “I love how you used the past tense there.”
His smile widened. “Competition is merely how Rosses express affection. Remember how Daniel and Theo had a pie-eating competition at Thanksgiving?”
“Vividly.” I snorted. “It was a lot of fuss over nothing. Pretty sure I ate more than both of them together.”
Constantine laughed out loud. “See? That’s the Ross competitive spirit.”
“Too bad I’m not a Ross.”
“Actually”— Con lifted his hands to thread with mine and pulled my left hand to his mouth so he could press a kiss to my wedding band—“you are, MicahRoss-Bloom.”
“Oh.” A little laugh escaped me and my heart gave a crazy thump. “I guess I am.”
Con stared up at me seriously, and I felt, not for the first time, like he sometimes understood me better than I understood myself. “It’s different, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“Being married.” He shrugged. “I’d kinda thought having a wedding would be like having a birthday. You go to sleep twenty-four, you wake up twenty-five, you have some cake, and life goes on exactly as before. But, like, we woke up as two guys who loved each other a lot, and we went to sleep that night as a family. As a unit. Your shit is legally my shit. Your crew is my crew. Your priorities are my priorities. My crazy is your crazy. ’Til death do us part.” He grinned evilly, then shrugged again. “Meh. I’m explaining it wrong—”
“You’re really not,” I whispered, touching my forehead to his. “Not at all.”
“But I guess that means we get to decide how the Ross-Blooms do things, hmm?” Constantine carded his fingers through my short hair. “So I suppose noteverythinghas to be a competition. We can tone the Ross-ness down a couple notches.” He yawned hugely. “And if I don’t sync the horn to music, I can sleep another hour, so there’s that.” He grinned and poked me in the ribs. “I’m turning over. Do that thing where you pretend to be my blanket, ’kay?”
I lifted up a little so he could turn underneath me, then lowered myself back on top of him. I had no idea why he always found this position so comfortable, but clearly he did, because he buried his face in the pillow again.
“Love you, Micah,” he said sleepily, already closing his eyes.
And God, I loved him. I’d loved him for longer than I’d let myself know it. I’d taken vows about it. But every day, somehow, this man made me love him even more.
Because my crew was his crew…
And his crazy was my crazy.
I slapped his ass lightly and sat up. “No sleeping, glitter boy. We have things to do.”
“Huh?” Con’s eyes fluttered open.
“Constantine, the Ross-Blooms don’t tone themselves down foranyone.”
He blinked up at me over his shoulder and a slow smile spread across his face. “We don’t?”
“Fuck no. We go all out. I happen to own a little flower shop where we can get fresh flowers to decorate the unicorn. And an endless supply of ribbons. And tinsel. And a whole bunch of little Pride flags from those arrangements I made. And I’m thinking you can make a couple phone calls—” I sketched out a quick idea.
“Oh, shit yeah!” Con sat up eagerly. “You’re saying Project Unicorn Apocalypse is a go?”
“I have no idea what that is? But alsoyes.”
Con squeezed his eyes shut and lifted one fist triumphantly. “Yes! This will be epic. Legends will be created this day, husband.”
“Uh huh. And also?” I crawled over him, and he laid back against the pillows.
“Also?”
I kissed his smiling mouth and ran a hand down his glittery chest, then stroked his cock over his underwear until his eyes rolled back and his hips lifted insistently. “I figure if I help you with the unicorn, it’ll only take half as long, so we can spare a few minutes...”
