Page 97 of Husband of the Year
“Oh, babe. You got me.”
And I’m pretty sure Olan’s cheek.
When I glance at him, a mischievous smile forms on his face, followed by a low, enticing giggle.
“You needed that,” he says.
“We both did.”
Olan retrieves a washcloth from the bedside table and begins wiping us.
“Thank you again,” he says as he brushes the rag over my chest.
“No, thank you. That was amazing. I think I’ll sleep like a baby now.”
“I meant for all you’ve done while I was away. For suggesting I bring Greggie home. For being amazing with Illona. For the friendship you’ve cultivated with Isabella. You’ve somehow managed to jockey yourself for Husband of the Year before we’re even married.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re winning that,” I say as we get under the covers.
“Or maybe”—Olan pulls me close and wraps his arm around me, replicating the spooning position that started all this—“we can share the title.”
“That sounds perfect.”
I close my eyes and take it all in. My life has only gotten better in the short time we’ve been together, and now I’m more than ready to be married. There’s nothing quite like drifting off to sleep with your limbs intertwined, knowing you’re meant to be together forever.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Sheldon: I’ve left you alone all week to enjoy your man being home, but we need to get cracking.
Marvin: Cracking on what?
Sheldon: Hello? Your WEDDING. There are decisions, deadlines, and deposits to make.
Marvin: Don’t we still have four months?
Sheldon: Four months is like four minutes in Wedding Planning Land.
Marvin: Is that an actual place?
Sheldon: Yes. And don’t forget to pack snacks, you might be there for a while. We’re coming to you tomorrow morning. Theo will pack bagels and schmears. Do you eat lox?
Marvin: Does RuPaul love quirky comedy queens?
Sheldon: Amen. We’ll be on the 9:15 ferry.
Amidst the chaos of the past month, planning the wedding has been put on the back burner. Apart from the meeting with my mother and Sheldon, I have given little thought to the specifics of the day. Olan’s absence has prevented me from making decisions that should involve him and now that he’s home, we’ve been a little preoccupied.
Sheldon and Theo arrive Sunday morning, both carrying various bags and boards, and I nearly miss Walter standing behind Theo’s cooler.
“Come in, guys,” I say. Greggie’s lulling between alertness and a nap in the sling against my chest. It’s only a matter of time before he dozes off. “Gonzo will be happy to see Walter again.”
Theo bends over and removes Walter’s harness and he scuttles inside, searching for his kitty playmate.
“How was the ferry?”
“Perfect day for it,” Sheldon says, walking past me with full arms.
“I didn’t realize you were bringing so much… stuff. We could’ve come to you.”
