Page 136 of Pieces of Me

I push forward and kiss her once before pulling back. “You know,” I start, fingers tap, tap, tapping against her flesh.“It’s because of you and your strength that you guys are where you are, and she’s doing a lot better.”

“I’m glad, baby, but it’s not just me. It’s all of us. We all worked to get here.”

She’s wrong. It’sallher, but trying to convince her would be pointless.

“Second?”

“Second was Mia’s speech. For sure.”

“Ah, that almost killed me,” she says through a sigh. And then she’s shifting, moving over me, coating my entire existence in her warmth. “I’m glad there are people in your life who recognize how amazing you are, Holden Eastwood.”

I grab her ass. Squeeze once. “You’re pretty amazing, too,Mrs. Eastwood.”

She squeals into my neck. “Okay, and three?”

“Your speech was amazing, but after it, when you told Peg-leg”—Jamie lifts her head to scowl at me—“I mean,Paul, to hit play on the stereo and that Taylor Swift song came on. And everyone got up to sign and dance!”

“Right? It was like it was planned!” Jamie giggles.

“And Paul knew all the lyrics!” I say, chuckling.

Jamie’s laughing so hard, she rolls off of me. “I’m telling you, he’s a closet Swiftie!” She takes a moment to catch her breath. “It’soursong, you know?”

“No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“I’m not having a Taylor Swift song as our song!” I say, adamant.

Jamie sits up. “What is our song then?”

I rack my brain. “‘Rockstar’ by Post Malone.”

Her eyes narrow. “The first line of that song is‘I’ve been fucking hoes’…”

“I have been,” I say, trying to contain my chuckle. And then I grab the back of her head and pull down until her face hits the mattress and her ass is in the air. I spank her once. “You.”

“Oh, you’re lucky we’re married!” she exclaims, straightening up.

I can’t stop laughing.

“Did you see what Paul gifted us?”

I shake my head, trying to silence my idiocy.

“It’s this big metal sign for next to the door.” She shows me how big with her hands. “And he cut out all these daisies and dahlias and it saysEastwood, established: and he left the year blank because he wasn’t sure whether we wanted the year we got married or the year we met.”

“That’s cool,” I respond. “Maybe we could replace that pink flying pig of yours, because, babe, I fucking love you, but that pig isugly.”

Her gasp has mehowling. “It’scute!”

“I think it’s the bright red bottle cap eyes,” I manage to get out. “It looksevil.”

“No, they’re hearts in the eyes!”

She’s so serious in her defense of the damn pig, and it only makes it funnier. I shake my head. “Not when I leave for work in the morning, they’re not!”

She glares at me, her mouth wide open in shock. “You know what?” she almost shouts.

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