“You’re welcome, sweetie. I’m just so happy that Travis has finally settled down. I can’t wait to be a grandmother.”
Saylor’s eyes go wide, and I cough to get rid of the frog that has suddenly lodged itself in my throat. Having children isn’t something we’ve talked about, not that we’ve discussed much of anything about our future, except that she’ll play a role in my baseball and financial future. And if I’m lucky, she’ll let me into her pants. As of right now, I don’t know where we’ll live, and while I think that it’ll be my house, I don’t want to assume anything. But it only makes sense that they move in with me.
“We have Lucy, Ma. That’s enough for right now.”
“Oh Travis, she’s such a doll.”
I laugh. “Wait until you spend time with Lucy. You’ll see why it’s been so easy to fall in love with them.” The l word slips out before I can stop myself from saying it. Saylor tenses, but my dad quickly brushes the comment aside.
“When Lucy is ready to drive, her grandfather will be happy to teach her,” he says, giving Saylor something else to focus on.
“You’ll be the first one we come to, Dad,” I say, giving them both another hug. As soon as they’re off mingling with others, Norma is ushering us to the cake.
“Gather around,” she yells, getting everyone’s attention. “It’s time for cake.”
“Wow, you really thought of everything,” Saylor says as she picks up the knife.
“I tried, babe.” She smiles up at me, giving me every opportunity to kiss her. I do, first on her nose, then fully on her lips, keeping everything PG. My only hope is that later, after the gala, she’ll want to become my wife in every sense of the word.
Daisy guides us on where to cut the cake, and once we’ve sliced our way through, Daisy is there to finish the process.
“Are you going to smear that all over my face?” I ask Saylor, who is eyeing me wickedly.
“You probably deserve it.”
“Probably,” I agree. “But I have to wear this tux tonight and I’d rather it not get dirty.” I lean in and whisper, “We could always do this again later, if you want. I can smear a little frosting on your…” I let my words trail off and her imagination take over. She doesn’t need me to tell her what I want to do to her. I’ve made myself very clear from the last time we were together. The urges I have toward her are strong and have never wavered.
“Let’s do this,” she says, moving her piece closer to my mouth as hers drops open. I don’t know if we do it at the same time or not, but the moment my tongue touches the cake, I’m biting down softly, conscious that her fingers are in my mouth.
She pulls away and uses her hand to shield her mouth. Our little wedding party is cheering, and Lucy and Shaun are first in line to get a piece of cake.
“I sort of forgot you had to go to the Rotary dinner tonight.”
“We,” I correct her.
“What?”
“You’re going, too.”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m not. I don’t have anything to wear.”
I point at her dress and nod. “You’re wearing your dress. Daisy and Ainsley are wearing their dresses as well.”
Saylor pulls my head down so she can speak quietly. “I can’t go, Travis. I’m not allowed, and I think one probation violation is enough, don’t you?”
I kiss her along her cheek until I reach her ear. “I’ll never let you fail, Saylor. I already took care of it with Irvin. He has a letter from your PO saying you can go. You’ll be safe with me.”
* * *
After ou
r reception, Norma and my mother whisk Lucy and Shaun, along with Bailey’s twins, away for the night, giving Branch a break from single fatherhood and giving Cooper and Ainsley a night to themselves. Getting Branch to agree was the hard part, but in the end, he relented. Of course, it helped that if he didn’t attend tonight’s gala, the Renegades would fine him.
At the hotel where the gala is being held, I rented the honeymoon suite for the night, and while we’re upstairs partying the night away, hotel staff will come in and place rose petals all over the room, add champagne and strawberries, and turn on the mood music.
Until then, our suite is the staging ground for the women to freshen up and the men to kick back and drink before we have to head upstairs.
“You’re fucking married,” Ethan says as he taps the lip of his beer bottle to mine.