“Yes. Thank you for the water.” I cleared my throat. “I haven’t had a chance to meet your granddaughter yet. She’s barely made a peep all night.”
“Kara was so worried the baby would ruin the ceremony. She stood in the back with her the whole time in case they needed to make a break for it.”
“How old?” Dad asked.
Henry smiled through a puff of his cigar. “Five months. My first grandkid.”
Manning shook his head, lifting his glass. “She’s beautiful. I feel like an uncle.”
“You are, kid. We’re lucky that Kara and her husband moved down the street. I see Abby almost every day.”
“You might not feel so lucky when they’re calling you to babysit every weekend,” Dad said.
“I don’t mind.” Henry swirled his drink. “I’m retired. I could use the money.”
My dad looked disgusted. “They pay you?”
Henry laughed, and it was such a rare, joyous sound that I joined in. “I’m kidding,” he said. “I got the time, and the baby grows on you.”
“Grows on you? You’re crazy for her.” Manning got an ashtray from the deck and put out his cigar. “You’re like a new man, Henry.”
“A baby’ll do that to you.”
“I look forward to it.” Manning set down his drink and my empty water bottle before taking my hand. “Come on and I’ll introduce you.”
I flashed a wave at my dad and Henry as Manning led me around the side of the house. So I’d stolen him away after all—which reminded me why I’d gone looking for him in the first place.
I stopped walking when we were halfway around the house and pulled Manning back by his hand.
“What is it?” he asked, turning to me.
“There’s something about the word husband, isn’t there?” I asked. “Try it.”
He stepped into me, lowering his voice as he emphasized, “Husband.”
I laughed. “I mean try it the other way. Call me your wife.”
“My wife.” With his next step, we retreated until my back was up against the side of the house and we were hidden from the partygoers. “I really fucking like it, Wife.”
From the backyard, I recognized the thumping bass of an Usher song on the sound system we’d rented. Perfect baby-making music. I slid my hands up Manning’s suit and around his neck. “Me too.”
He took my face in his hands and, for the first time as my husband, kissed me for real—without eyes on us and less politely than he had in front of others. “We can’t do this now,” he said. “I mean, I can do this now . . .” He moved his pelvis against my stomach, pinning me to the wall with his growing hard-on. “But I love your dress too much to risk ruining it.”
“That’s your concern? My dress?” I breathed. “Not the guests a few feet away?”
He half-smiled. “Them too. I want to preserve this dress, but once it comes off . . .”
I bit my bottom lip. “What happens then?”
“I’m taking full advantage of our first night as a married couple. No distractions.”
Not that Manning was ever really distracted when it came to sex, but tonight, the determination in his expression made me wriggle between his body and the wall. “I can’t wait.”
“Stop drinking,” he said. “I’ve only had two tonight. I recommend you get a coffee and take it easy. Conserve your energy.”
I frowned. “How come?”
“We’re going to be at it all night.”
“Manning.” I blushed at his unapologetic bluntness. “We have people staying at the house until tomorrow.”
“Not anymore. I booked them all at a hotel in town.”
I put my hands on his chest, trying to read him in the dark. “No you didn’t.”
“I did. I’m sorry, Lake.” He shrugged. “I tried to tell you I wouldn’t have people in my home on my wedding night.”
“And I told you I’d be quiet.”
He snorted. “Impossible. Not in our bed, not the first night you’re my wife. I would’ve had to take you out to the stable.”
I scoff-laughed, shoving him away. “I’m not a wild animal,” I said, walking off.
He grabbed my hand and fell in step beside me. “But I am, and you’re in heat, so you better gird your loins.”
“Gird my loins?” I asked. “I’m in heat?”
“Maybe. You’re about halfway between periods, right?”
I stopped and turned to him, taking my hand back. “Wait, what?” I asked. “You’re serious?”
“I don’t know for sure,” he said. “But this is around the time you’d be ovulating.”
“You think about that?” I asked.
“Not a lot,” he said, laughing, “but sometimes. I was paging through some of your textbooks a while back and got curious about the process.”
I put my hands on my hips. “But is that something you plan sex around?”
“I don’t, not that I’d need to.” He closed the distance between us, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You initiate more around this time each month. You never noticed?”