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Nine
Hazel
“Wait—”
Leo tugs me away from the front door.
“Leo, please…” I extend my arm, reaching for it. “I am so tired. I just want to get in there and kick these shoes off—”
He lifts me up and cradles me in his arms. I yelp in surprise, feeling a twinge of concern for my still-pristine dress.
“I’ve been looking forward to this,” he says. He juts his chin. “Okay, open the door.”
I lean over and twist the knob, giving the door a light push to fall open. Pearl rushes in first under his feet and I hear her take her rightful spot next to the fireplace.
Leo carries me over the threshold and I grin at him.
“Oh…” I say. “I could get used to this.”
He pulls me down and kisses me. “Me, too.”
I inhale deeply. “Home,” I hum.
“Home,” he repeats.
“Smells good.”
Leo kicks the door closed behind us. “Yes, it does.”
“Sounds… quiet. Doesn’t it sound quiet?”
“Everyone went home,” he says, shrugging his wide shoulders as we walk through the foyer toward the kitchen. “It’s just you and me now.”
I eye the old food and dishes stacked along the counter. “Ugh. Guess we should clean those…”
“Later.”
He twists to the stairwell.
“Did you pay the caterer?” I ask him.
“Later.”
“You didn’t pay the caterer?”
“No, I did, I just don’t want to go down that list right now.”
I sigh as we ascend the stairs. “This place is trashed. We’re gonna be living on old cake for a week.”
We reach the landing and Leo pauses to stare at me. “Hazel…”
I look at him. Leo. My new husband. I smile. “Yes, Leo?”
He kisses me, his soft lips caressing mine with that familiar lust. “Later,” he whispers.
“Then, what happens now?”
He raises a brow.
