“I guess so.” He looks chastened. “I’m sorry. I wanted you to know how deeply I feel so I thought … enough said. I love you. You know how I feel. I won’t keep putting my damn foot in my mouth.”

“Drew, everything I have is yours, too. You know that. But your words were so unexpected.”

“I know. And I was wrong about not caring about your dress. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid these dumb old eyes on.” He kisses me. “I couldn’t believe how stunning you were, standing at the end of the aisle. You are a vision.”

“You think so?”

“Yes! Now let’s get you fixed up again so you don’t look like you’ve been crying. I’m sorry I made you cry, babe.” He sounds so disheartened.

“You can make it up to me.”

“I plan on it.”

My make up bag is in here so I go to work touching up my eyes. It’s not that bad because I’m wearing waterproof everything.

“How do I look?”

“Like a princess.”

I roll my eyes.

“You do. Better than any princess I’ve ever seen. You’re gorgeous, Cate. And best of all, you’re my wife.” He kisses me again.

Someone knocks on the door. “Hey, you okay in there?” It’s Jenna.

“Yeah.” And I open the door.

“Oh, god, don’t tell me y’all were … I told you he’d go crazy over that dress and …”

I cut her off when I see Shannon standing there. “That’s enough, Ms. Nosy.”

Drew grins and winks at me and leads me out of the bathroom. Then the photographer grabs us and it’s all about the pictures for a while. We take the church shots and then all the outdoor shots, and I’m glad because it takes my mind off of everything else.

The reception is a hit. Two things Drew and I insisted on during the planning stages were a big band, and a huge bar with anything and everything anyone wanted to drink. The rest—we really didn’t give a damn about. We figured we wanted a party where everyone danced and had a great time, and the way to do that was with an awesome band and great drinks. We have succeeded. People keep telling us this is the best wedding reception they’ve ever attended. My feet will be killing me tomorrow, but I couldn’t care less. Drew and I fly out on Monday to wherever his secret honeymoon is. I won’t be walking anywhere far, I’m sure.

We don’t leave the party until the very end and I hate to say goodbye to all our friends. But I’m eager to get to our hotel. We’re staying in a suite in one of the hotels right here in downtown Charleston. A horse and carriage await to take us to our room. When we walk in, a bottle of champagne sits in a bucket of ice and Drew and I look at each other and make faces. The last thing we either want or need is more alcohol.

“You know what I’d love right now?” he asks.

“A wedding night blow job?”

“Well, that too, but I’m starving. I didn’t eat but a bite or two. I’d love a pizza.”

“Oh, me too. I’m famished myself.”

He grins, grabs the phone, and starts ordering all this food from room service.

“Why didn’t you order a pizza delivery?”

“I wanted variety. And I’ll have my blow job for dessert. They’re bringing a can of whipped cream because I ordered strawberries.”

“They are not.”

He looks like that little boy again. “Yes, they are.”

Sure enough, when the room service man arrives, pushing a cart laden with our food, there is a can of whipped cream on it. But I don’t see any strawberries. I ask Drew about it. He’s a bit tipsy.

“Oh, that’s right. I ordered brownie cake instead.”

“That’s even better!”

We dive into the array of food, from pizza to burgers, fries, and chicken wings, until we’re stuffed.

“Don’t forget the dessert,” Drew reminds me.

“Oh, you can have the brownie thingy. I have something else in mind.”

I crawl between his legs, tug his boxers down with a little help from him, take that can of whipped cream, and make an artful creation out of his cock. He’d started eating the brownie, but after a bite, got very distracted by what I was doing.

“You like?” I ask.

“Um, I love.” He has his husky, sexy voice going now.

I eye his whipped cream covered cock, trying to decide if I should start at the top or the bottom, when he says, “No hands.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t use your hands. Mouth only.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Not really. I just want to watch you suck me off with your hands behind your back.”

“Can I touch Louise?”

“Oh, no. Only I get to touch Louise.”

“Hmm. Well, then. I’d better hurry it up, because Louise is getting impatient.”

I dip my head down and lick the tip of his cock, swirling my tongue about the tip, sucking off the cream. “Yummy, I love this.”

“Cate, stop teasing.” I notice his hands clenching the table.

“No teasing. Just sucking.”

And I go back to work. This really is tasty. Lick, swirl, suck until all the cream is gone and now I take him deep. He groans. Loudly. And I want this to go fast because I need some relief, too. But he has other ideas.

“Enough.” He pulls me to my feet and lays me down on the coffee table, pulling off my thong. It’s a sexy, white satin number. Once I’m bared to him, he takes that can of whipped cream and coats my pussy with it.

“My turn.” Then his tongue starts lapping up the cream as he murmurs his pleasure. I’m thinking we’ll have to buy this stuff by the case. “Whipped cream is good, but it doesn’t taste nearly as good as you, Cate.” My legs are spread and my feet rest on his shoulders. When he spears me with two fingers, I cry out, “Ahh.”

“You want this?”

“No, I want you.”

“That can be arranged, but I want an orgasm from you first.” And he gets it. Or rather he gets two.

Then he pulls my hand and I’m back on my feet. He picks me up, carries me to the bed, and proceeds to make love to me. It’s slow, drawn out, and perforates my heart in a way I’m sure he doesn’t intend it to. But his words, “For however short or long it may be,” keep coming back to me. This moment has to last forever in my heart. I don’t want to feel this way—to have these doubts. I want my faith to be firm in his survival of what he faces. So I will choose to live in the moment from this point on, cherishing him day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.

The honeymoon destination is the island of St. Martin. When we land at the airport, our driver greets us.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“You’ll see in just a little bit.”

When we pull up to a private villa, Drew says, “Surprise.” Then he leans over and kisses my cheek. “This is our home for the next ten days.”

“This is amazing.”

“Let’s check it out.”

Our driver unloads our bags, while a woman greets us and shows us around. The villa sits right on its own private beach, but has a pool and every amenity one could want.

The woman, whose name is Monique, tells us, “Every morning, breakfast will be delivered at seven. We will leave it outside so we won’t disturb you if you are still sleeping.” She beams and her face lights up, letting us know she has an inkling we’ll be hanging out in bed a lot. “Then I will return at twelve thirty to deliver your lunch. You will leave me your order, yes, in the morning on the porch when I deliver your breakfast?”

We nod. Apparently there is a huge menu we get to choose from.

Monique isn’t finished. “Then, at six in the evening, our chef, Pierre, will arrive to cook you dinner, if you are dining in. Again, you must give me your dinner selection at lunch, so chef can be prepared, yes?”

We nod again.

“You will find everything you need in the villa and if you don’t, you just call Monique, yes?”

We nod, again. Then she leaves and we grin at each other.

“Drew, this is amazing!”

“I hope you love it.”

“I do! How did you find this place?”

“Oh, this little thing called the internet. And my parents.”

When our first breakfast is delivered the next morning, it consists of homemade breads and croissants, because we’re staying on the French side of the island, and everything is mouthwatering. It’s a good thing I don’t have to worry about fitting into my wedding gown anymore because after all this tasty food, I’m sure it would be very snug.