Page 55 of The Stud Next Door (Frisky Business 3)
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I whisper, kissing her forehead with a tenderness I reserve for the two most important girls in my life—this incomparable woman in my arms, and the little cherub just inside those doors, currently being cared for by her mom. My heart is filled to the brim with gratitude to whatever higher power decided to make me so damn lucky.
Soon, voices echo down the hall, and I give Jessa a squeeze. And just like that, it’s time.
Our wedding party reappears, consisting of the men of Frisky Business, Penelope, and two of Jessa’s friends from college. I would bet money that Maren and Scarlett have already made themselves and many other guests comfortable at the tables or the bar as our wedding-planner power duo.
Someone cues the DJ and the music begins, ushering in the whole party, pair by pair until it’s just Jessa and me stepping over the threshold. The guests clap and cheer when I twirl her around, her lacy white gown billowing out around her. The introductions pass in a blur of toasts and speeches, either sweet and silly, depending on the speaker. Of course, the buffet is a hit, but not nearly as much as the open bar turns out to be.
Caleb jogs by me with two old fashioneds in his hands, a conspicuous bottle of wine in his suit pocket, and a wide-eyed expression on his face.
“I’m gathering rations for the rest,” he says, panting as he gestures with an elbow to the corner of the room where the rest of the Frisky Business family has wandered. “Did you know the bar closes at ten? Gotta get ’em while they last.”
“Yes, I know the bar closes at ten. I helped plan this wedding,” I call after him, but he’s already gone.
I watch my friends welcome him back with light applause as he distributes the drinks around the circle. The men lift their old fashioneds while Penelope, Maren, and Scarlett pop open another bottle of stolen wine. The sight of these familiar faces, flushed with the warmth and happiness of mutual celebration, fills me with a deep satisfaction.
Watching my friends, I’m considering giving up on my rotation of greetings and well wishes and instead spending the rest of the night with my preferred crowd. But not until I can locate Jessa and steal her away from chatty uncles and awkward colleagues.
Just then, a hand snakes around my waist. Speak of the angel herself.
“Hey, mister, got a minute?”
I grin, lacing fingers with my wife’s. My wife.
“I think we’ve determined that you can have all my minutes from here on out.”
“Hmm.” She hums contentedly, leaning her head against my bicep. “Will you come with me to spend a little time with your daughter? She’s getting grumpy, and I think Beth is going to take her home before it gets to be too late.”
“Fair enough.”
Marley’s biological mom, Beth, and Jessa have become close since she moved in with me. There’s some sort of understanding between them that goes beyond the fun they have teasing me for my little fatherhood blunders. It’s the connection between two compassionate humans who see a lot of themselves in each other.
“Da-da,” Marley cries, squirming in Beth’s arms when she catches sight of me.
Beth rolls her eyes with a smirk, passing our daughter off to me. “She’s downright sick of me now, I’ll tell you that much.”
While Jessa laughingly consoles Beth, I spin my baby girl around, earning about a million giggles. Her curly hair is pulled into two tiny pigtails, and while she’s still not great at walking, she’s already such a strong and healthy child. It’s uncommon to have one’s child present on your wedding day, so I don’t take the privilege lightly. I nuzzle my nose into her cheek, eliciting another bout of shrieking laughter.
“I love you so much, Marley girl,” I whisper against her soft hair. “More than you’ll ever know.”
About ten minutes later, Beth leaves with Marley, and before long, the lights dim and the dancing begins.
Jessa dances with her stepdad, who keeps her laughing from pretty much the first step until the last. I dance with my mother, who spends the brief five minutes worrying about when Penelope will get married to that nice, stoic man she’s been carting around to family gatherings lately.
Our own slow dance goes off without a hitch, despite my stumbling feet betraying me at the rehearsal. I’m pretty damn sure the only reason I don’t make a complete ass of myself is just because I’m so distracted by the exquisite woman in my arms, who whispers the steps to me between reassuring kisses.
It wasn’t rehearsed, but Jessa doesn’t mind one bit when I dip her at the end of the song, pressing a less than family-friendly kiss to her neck in front of God and all our guests. The guys are a few drinks in by this time, their hooting and hollering inspiring a loud reaction from the crowd.
