Trixsters Anonymous

“I’ll always be a Trixster. That’s not going to change, but slowing down is what’s best for everyone right now.”

“Two cases a month? That’s it?”

“At most.”

I bend down and swing her up in my arms, taking her off-guard. “Walker!” She squeals, “What are you doing?”

Heads twist in our direction, and I catch her mom and dad grinning right before I march off the dance floor and out of the ballroom.

“What are you doing?” she repeats, wiggling to get free. “You promised an hour.”

“I lied. We’re going to our room now.”

“Why?”

“Because you said you didn’t have a chance to be a newlywed, and that’s about to change.”

“What did you have in mind?” There’s a sparkle in her eyes as she stops squirming and throws her arms around my neck.

I punch the button for the elevator and hope like hell no one joins us on the ride up. My prayers are answered when the doors open and we have the space to ourselves.

“Get ready, Mrs. Scott, because as soon as we step off this elevator, you are officially back in newlywed status. Which means your husband is going to be even more attentive and obsessed than he already is.”

“I really, really like the sound of this.”

The doors open, and I carry her to our room. She whips the card out of my shirt pocket and slips it in the reader. I kick it open and step inside, changing her position, so she’s forced to wrap her legs around my waist.

“I told you once, it was my mission in life to make you happy, and I take that job very seriously.”

“You make me deliriously happy.”

“And it’s going to stay that way, forever.”