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It went by in a blur, like a movie played in fast forward. Posing for endless pictures. The clinking of glasses. He’d barely gotten to eat his dinner when they rolled out the cakes. Three of them. One coconut with cherry filling, one mocha caramel, and one carrot. The kissing. The dancing. Linnea caught the bouquet and Kyan the garter—no surprise there. Fireworks at midnight, sparklers and light-up balloons—singing to Dillon for his thirtieth birthday with the start of a brand-new year.
Taylor couldn’t wait to see all the photos.
What he would never need a photo of to remember was the first glimpse of his little bird, his beautiful wife, as she made her entrance on her father’s arm. She looked like a fairy princess, the crystals on her gown sparkling under the lights. They joined hands and spoke their vows. Together, he and Jesse slid a braided band of diamonds on her finger. She pushed matching Celtic bands onto theirs. Three thick strands of hammered and woven platinum.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
Monica asked their mothers to come stand beside them. His mother, Jesse’s, and Chloe’s grandmother each placed a cord over their joined hands—one for each family, one representing each of them. Linnea gathered the cords in one hand as Brendan folded them over and around their hands. When he finished he handed his end to Chloe. Linnea handed her end to him and Jesse. Monica recited a Celtic blessing and instructed them to remove their hands and pull on the cords. The result was an infinity knot.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
Brendan and Linnea signed their names as witnesses on a marriage license, and again as witnesses to a handfasting. Jesse and Chloe were legally wed. The three of them just as committed and bound to each other by the symbolic joining of hands. She was his wife. Jesse his husband. And he didn’t need a piece of paper to tell him that.
Chloe smiled up at him and Taylor grasped her hand in his. He wished it could be different, but he knew it was best this way. The small wedding of former NFL wide receiver, Jesse Nolan and Chloe Bennett might make the local news or perhaps a small mention in the sports section of the Sunday paper. If Taylor had married Chloe it would have made waves on TMZ before the reception was even over. Their privacy would be ripped out from under them—he had to protect her and Jesse and their baby from that as much as he could, for as long as he could. She took both of their surnames, just as she insisted she would. The baby would have both of their names as well, because that’s what Chloe wanted, and whatever she wanted they wanted too.
She lifted her head from his shoulder when the town car turned onto Park Place from Third Avenue. Taylor watched her sea glass eyes widen in recognition. They were home.
“C’mon, wifey.” Jesse gave Chloe his hand. Tangled up in tulle, he helped her from her seat. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the door.
The old paint was cracked and peeling, the color faded and indiscernible in the dark. Jesse set Chloe on her feet as he fumbled with the key in the lock. The tumblers turned with a familiar click and the hinges groaned as Taylor pushed the door open. It was dark inside, except for a faint flickering light off the foyer.
Chloe peered inside from where she stood behind him on the porch. “It looks creepy.”
“It’s not.” Jesse chuckled. “It’s just empty, waiting to be lived in.” His fingers brushed her hair. “Filled.” And he softly kissed her lips. “Loved again.”
It was Taylor’s turn. He lifted Chloe over his shoulder, tulle skirts and feet dangling, her bottom in his hands, and stepped across the threshold into the creepy old house they’d soon fill with life, vibrant and new. She squealed. He followed the flickering light and Jesse followed him.
Cor fucking blimey.
He was utterly speechless. Gobsmacked. In the center of what was once a formal dining room sat a colossal bed on a raised platform. It was easily twelve feet wide, covered in silk sheets and strewn with rose petals. Flameless candles flickered on an antique buffet behind the bed and fire burned in the hearth at the end of the room, making it cozy and warm.
Jesse walked over to a small table beside the bed. On it was a silver bucket with a white envelope propped up against it. He opened it and grinned. “It’s a wedding gift from Brendan.”
“Well, you did say you wanted a bigger bed, Tay.” Chloe giggled and tapped his shoulder blade. “Sweetie, the blood is rushing to my head. You can put me down now.”
“Right. Sorry, love.” He eased her down his body until her toes touched the hardwood floor, but he didn’t let her go.
Instead, Taylor bent his head and kissed the bride. His hands swept over her bare back as he slipped his tongue inside her sweet mouth. He felt Jesse press in from behind her to grip his shoulders and nuzzle her neck, trapping his fingers against her warm, soft skin.
“I love you,” Jesse whispered as he lifted his head.
He lifted his too.
Jesse pulled the pins one by one, releasing the garland of crystals and twisted tulle from Chloe’s hair. Taylor spread his fingers through the silky strands. Her burnt-umber waves gleamed in the firelight. At the bottom of the low V back, Jesse unfastened her gown, running his fingers up her skin until they connected with his. He laced their fingers and kissed him then, the wife they shared between them.
The gown hung from her shoulders. Taylor pushed the long sleeves down her arms and it fluttered to the floor, a heap of glittering tulle at her feet. Naked, but for the silk and ivory lace that hid her cunt from him. He lightly brushed his thumbs across her cherry nipples. He could almost taste them on his tongue. From behind her, Jesse lowered the ivory silk down her legs and buried his face between her thighs.
He could feel her begin to tremble. Her lips parted to sing, but Taylor covered them with his own, swallowing her song. He lifted her and carried her to the massive bed, laying her at its center amongst the rose petals. They each claimed a nipple, her fingers twined in their hair, holding them to her breasts. His cock rubbed against her thigh, leaking hot precum on her skin. He needed to be inside her.
Taylor pulled Chloe from Jesse’s mouth to settle her on top of him. Her shaky thighs straddled his waist. Her wet swollen nipples just inches from his mouth. Then Jesse was there. He turned his head to the side and his mouth touched his lips. Together they claimed her nipple. Their tongues met as they suckled and licked. She whimpered.
Chloe reached behind her and slender fingers circled his dick. She lifted herself and positioned him at her opening. With one thrust he pushed himself inside her. He closed his eyes and felt her lips descend on his. How had he ever thought he could live without this? Without her? He needed Chloe as much as he needed Jesse, could no longer think of one without the other.
She stilled.
He opened his eyes to see Jesse behind her, kissing her neck, palming her breasts, pinching her nipples. Chloe held her bottom lip between her teeth. Jesse picked up a tube from the bed and flipped the cap. He squeezed its contents into his hand and fisted his cock. Taylor froze.
The baby.
