Jayme & Tripp (Game Wardens 1)

“It’s okay, Babe,” Jayme murmured against his cheek.

He nodded. “I’m just...I can’t believe she’d do that for us.”

“She’s incredible.”

“Yes, she is.”

He kissed Jayme on the lips, then let him go. “We need to celebrate,” Tripp chirped.

“You want to go to Rain, don’t you?”

“It’s a Friday night. We’re off tomorrow. Let’s go have some fun.”

“All right. Fine. Let’s go get ready.”

“Yesss!”

So they went to Rain and danced, laughed, drank, and celebrated.

~~~

Tripp

Tripp sighed, and pressed his fingers into his eyes. He was getting a headache. They had been looking at centerpiece arrangements, and flowers, and cakes for an hour now. Nothing was catching his eye. Jayme seemed just as frustrated, but he was probably more frustrated with Tripp than anything else.

“What’s wrong with this one?” Jayme asked, pointing to a picture of a simple white three-tiered cake with black ribbons around the bottom of each tier.

“It’s...it doesn’t jump out at me.”

“It’s fucking cake, Tripp,” Jayme said dryly.

“I have one more book that you can look at,” said Liz, the women at the shop that was helping them. The place was like a one stop shop for weddings. They did everything.

Jayme groaned, and shoved out of his chair. “I need a break.”

“Jayme.”

“I’ll be back in a couple minutes. You go ahead and look at the book,” Jayme said, walking out before he could argue.

He frowned. Liz brought out another book and set it in front of him. “I have to warn you. These are my more pricey cakes. I don’t know if any of these will be in your budget.”

“Figures. Let me look at them.”

He flipped through the pages. One caught his eye. It was a four-tiered white cake with each tier having a different design on it, and there were blue ribbons around the base of each tier.

“This one. I like this one,” he said, and tapped the page.

Liz winced. “Honey, that one is five hundred dollars.”

“Shit. You think he’ll go for it?”

Liz frowned, and shook her head.

“Damn it, Liz. You’re not helping.” He teased.

“Sorry.” She snickered.

Jayme returned a minute later and dropped down into his chair. He looked a little calmer, but Tripp was sure that wasn’t going to last long.

“Umm, I found one that I like,” he said.

“Thank fucking God.” Jayme huffed.

“It’s this one here.” He pointed to the picture of the cake.

“Great. How much?”

He hesitated, and Jayme looked over at him; narrowing his eyes.

“How much is it, Tripp?”

“Five hundred,” he said in a rush, then winced.

Jayme’s eyes bulged, and his mouth dropped open. “What?! No. Not happening.”

“Jayme--“

“We don’t have the money for that. We still have to get our suits and pay the balance for the venue. I said two hundred for the cake was all we could afford.”

“I know, but can’t we skimp somewhere else? Like get a cheaper centerpiece for the tables?”

“Even if we did that, we still wouldn’t have enough. The cheapest centerpiece would run us two hundred, and those were ugly as shit. No offense, Liz.”

She waved him off. “It’s okay. I agree.”

“Come on, Jayme. This is my one and only wedding. I want it to be perfect.”

“It can be perfect with a cheaper cake. There is nothing wrong with the black and white one. It’s simple and classy. And it’s in our budget.”

“It’s only three hundred over--“

“No, Tripp. We don’t have it.”

“What if I can come up with the extra three hundred?”

“How are you gonna do that? You make less than I do.”

“I’ve got a couple of guns I can sell.”

“You’re willing to sell your stuff, just to get a fucking cake?”

“I was thinking about selling them anyway, so yeah.”

Jayme shook his head and held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. Do what you want.”

He smiled triumphantly. “We’ll take the cake, Liz.”

She smiled. “Great.”

They put down a deposit on the cake and centerpieces before leaving. As soon as they were done, Jayme rushed out of there and climbed in his truck. Tripp got in the passenger seat and looked over at his grumpy fiancé.

“Were you this uptight when you planned your first wedding?” he asked.

“I didn’t have to pay for the whole thing, so no,” Jayme snapped.

“We’re still on budget, Babe. Don’t get yourself stressed out. Don’t think I didn’t notice your hands shaking in there.”

“It’s too late. I’m already stressed out,” Jayme grumbled, and ran a shaky hand over his short hair.

“Why don’t we go to the shooting range? You can get out some of your frustrations on a target.”

Jayme nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

They stopped home to grab their range bags with their guns and supplies, before heading over to the outdoor range. They spent a couple of hours there, shooting at different targets; and using different guns.

Once they were finished, they packed it all up; and headed back to the truck. He looked over at Jayme. “Feel better?”

Jayme nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

They drove home, listening to their favorite country station. Tripp sang along to every song. He tried to get Jayme to sing, but he wasn’t in that good of a mood. He might have felt better, but he wasn’t completely fine. He was still stressed.