We posed for pictures with our friends and family, laughed as we cut the three tiered cake together, and tried not to get carried away when it was time for him to remove my garter.

As the DJ began to play the upbeat music for dancing, Jonathan pulled me out onto the open balcony where a small table was waiting. He pulled out my chair, and the dinner we’d missed earlier was served to us in three short courses.

We ate in complete silence, simply looking up at one another and smiling each time our eyes met.

The second I finished my dessert, he helped me up and pulled me close. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes...”

He nodded and signaled to someone I couldn’t see. He led me back into the reception room, and the DJ announced that we were leaving.

“Do we really need to have the rice thrown on us as we leave?”

“That’s a ‘perfect wedding’ thing...”

“Okay.” He kissed me, and we waited for Miss Corwin to lead all of the guests outside.

“Mr. and Mrs. Statham?” She motioned to us. “Follow me please.”

We followed her down the hall and to the entry way of the venue, holding hands. When she gave the signal, we ran outside and down the long white carpet, dodging a heavy rain of rice and cheers.

Greg opened the door to the limo and Jonathan picked me up and placed me inside.

As soon as the door shut, his lips were on mine and his hands were all over me. I leaned forward and started tearing off his shirt, murmuring as he slid his hand behind the back of my dress.

I was tossing his shirt across the seat when I heard a series of loud popping noises outside.

I immediately stopped. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” He was still kissing me.

“That sound...It’s like gunfire.”

He let my lips go and smiled. “Fireworks.”

As if he could read my mind, he pulled me into his lap and placed his jacket over me. Then he rolled the window down and we watched as our names were spelled out in colorful sparks across the night sky: “Claire...” “Jonathan...” “Mr...” “Mrs...” “Statham...” “Together...” “Forever...” “Until...” “The Very...” “End...”

“Do I even want to know how much that costs?” I whispered, entranced.

“Probably not.” He smiled and ran his fingers through my now-tousled hair.

We watched the fireworks until they ended, until the only thing left in the sky was the stars, and by that time we’d made it to his plane.

He re-adjusted my dress and opened the door, but I grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait...Can you please tell me where we’re going? I need to make sure my staff has some of type of idea over the next two weeks...Just in case there’s an emergency and they need to contact me...I know you said we’re not supposed to do any work but—”

“First of all, we’re going to be gone for four weeks, not two.” He held my face in his hands and narrowed his eyes at me. “Second, your staff will not be allowed to contact you. At all. Neither of us is doing any work and if there is an emergency, you’ll find out about it when we get back. Third, we’re going to eight different countries and you’ll find out what they are when we get there. And fourth, since you’ve always wanted to go...We’ll take a yacht through the Panama Canal on the way back.”

I cut him off with a kiss and cried.

“Come on...” He led me out of the car and up the plane’s steps.

I didn’t wince when the plane roared down the runway, and I didn’t shut my eyes when we ascended into the air. I kept my gaze locked on his and smiled until the pilot said the newest set of secure words, “All clear, Mrs. Statham.”

As the flight attendant served us a bottle of champagne, Jonathan took my hand in his. “So, Mrs. Statham...Was our first time as a married couple special to you?”

“Yes...All four...”

“Hmmm.”

“You know sex doesn’t happen as often after marriage right? That after the first six months or so, the honeymoon phase ends and you’re so busy that you have to schedule sex sometimes...”

He smiled and unbuckled my seatbelt with his other hand. “Claire Statham...” He pulled me into his lap. “What makes you think you and I will ever have that problem?”

“It’s natural. That’s just how it works. Now that we’re married, we don’t have to do it so much.”

“I’m going to fuck you every day.”

“No, listen—”

“Every. Day.”

I smiled. “You are so charming when you talk like that...”

“I’m well aware.” He smiled and eased me out of his lap before standing up. “My wife loves when I talk dirty to her, but she won’t admit it.”

“She sounds like she’s too classy for you.”

He rolled his eyes and led me into the private bedroom at the back of plane. Locking the door, he pressed his lips against mine. “For the record, Mrs. Statham, our ‘honeymoon phase’ will never end.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Shhh.” He kissed me. “It was torture not being able to make love to you for weeks, Claire...You damn near broke me...You don’t even understand how badly I wanted you at your bachelorette party, how much it hurt to lie in bed next to you without being allowed to have you...But now that I know what it feels like to be with you again, I can fucking guarantee that I will never go a day without making love to you.”

“Is that another one of your agreements?”

“No.” He smiled and pulled me over to the bed, unzipping the back of my dress. “It’s a promise.”

Epilogue

Claire

One year later...

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror with a pair of scissors poised high above my head. I made sure to hold the strands taut, and then I counted.

One....Two...

“What are you doing, Claire?” Jonathan walked into the room with his eyebrow raised.

“I spotted two gray hairs today.”

“And?”

“And I want to get rid of them.”

He rolled his eyes and took the scissors out of my hand, placing them back into the drawer. He wrapped his arm around my waist and led me out into our living room.

“Every man in my family started graying at thirty five.” He smiled. “You should leave your hair alone so we can match.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better...”

“It’s true. My mom’s side of the family started graying at thirty. I’m sure it’ll happen to me soon.”

“I’m not sure if gray hair will look sexy on you, Jonathan.”

“Everything looks sexy on me.”

I laughed as he handed me a box of tree ornaments.

Since we’d spent last Christmas overseas, we were hosting the holidays at home this year per his request. He’d never had a “real Christmas” before so he insisted on having his mom and Hayley over so they could all share their first one together.

“Hey mom?” Ashley walked into the room with a pan of burnt black brownies. “I followed the directions and everything...I even used the right pan. What the hell is up with these things?”

I stepped over and looked into the pan, sighing. “You make straight A’s in college?”

“Yeah, so?”

I shook my head. “What temperature did you put them on?”

“Six hundred.”

“Six hundred?! I thought you said you followed the directions?”

“Caroline’s casserole needed to be baked ASAP, so I just halved the time. Thirty minutes at three hundred degrees equals fifteen minutes at six hundred. That’s basic math. You of all people should know that.” She shook her head at me and shrugged at Jonathan. “This was clearly an expired box of batter...I’m going to go buy some more.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but Jonathan pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

“She’ll learn. My mom is going to help them with everything tonight.”

I sighed and kissed him back.