STRIPPED (The Slate Brothers 3)

“Are you really not doing the garter?” Carson says, walking up behind his brother. He looks genuinely offended, and also like he thinks he might be able to convince us to put the garter toss back in right here, right now.

“Just because I like to kiss my wife in public doesn’t meant I want to undress her in public. Especially not in front of my family,” Tyson says, shoving his brother playfully. The word hums in my hears— wife. I’m his wife. He’s my husband. We made it. Carson and Tyson pretend to scuffle for a moment; Carson eventually gets Tyson in a headlock.

“This is why you don’t mess with your older brother, Ty,” Carson says.

“That’s it. I’m telling the team to trade you,” Tyson says from the headlock. Carson laughs and releases him, and I grin, then look over to Trishelle.

“Hey— you’re right. It oughta go straight to you,” I tell her, and she squeals in delight as I hand the bouquet to her. I then step forward to adjust Tyson’s tie, even though it barely needs it— I just want an excuse to touch him.

“How’s your night going, Anna Slate?” he asks, gazing down at me.

I look up, then stand on my tip toes to kiss him. “I’d give it an eight.”

“Only an eight?” Tyson asks, looking surprised. “Is this because we didn’t get those swans your mom wanted? I just don’t understand why we need swans waddling around the entryway. Swans are mean ass birds.”

I laugh loudly, and Tyson’s face lights up at the sound, like my laugh is oxygen in his lungs. “No,” I say, composing myself. “Only an eight because it’s not over yet. Tonight…tonight, after the wedding, that’s your chance to take it to a ten.”

Tyson growls deep in his throat, then kisses me deeply. “Believe me, I intend to. Tonight you’re all mine, Anna.”

I kiss him back and bite my lip, already looking forward to whatever he has in store. “I’ve been yours since I met you, Tyson Slate.”

THE END