She blinked twice. “You’re serious?”
I stepped close and ran my nose up hers. “Yep. Humor me, baby.”
“Really?” She looped her arm around my neck. “Will it make you happy?”
“Mmhmm.” My arm slid around her hips, lifting her against my chest. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”
Her lips curved with amusement. “I do feel a little silly, but I like seeing you happy.”
Kicking open the door, I stepped into our home. “There. Look at that. Got to carry my bride into our marital home.”
She swatted my chest and laughed. “Shut up, you goofball.”
I dipped my head to nuzzle her throat. “I appreciate you letting me do that. I don’t even know if it’s a thing people do anymore, but I kind of like doing shit the old-fashioned way with you.”
She pointed at her belly. “Like this?”
“Hey, we were married when that little nugget was conceived. You and I are as old-fashioned as they come.”
Her head rested on my shoulder. “At what point will you be letting me down?”
“Don’t know.” I carried her through the apartment and settled into my ugly orange chair with Michaela on my lap. “I like you like this.”
She let herself go liquid against me, her body molding to mine. “This chair is so damn ugly,” she whispered, like she was afraid to hurt its feelings.
“Yet I’ve found you sitting in it every time you come over.”
“I know, I know. When I’m sitting in it, I’m not focused on what it looks like. Only that my ass is being cushioned on baby angel clouds. But sitting on you is a very close second.”
Laughing, I ran my hands over her belly up to her tits. “Glad I rank in there.” I kissed the side of her neck.
Without warning, Michaela sat up straight. “What is that?”
Knowing what she was talking about without looking, I stayed lounging in my kickass chair. “You know what it is.”
“When did you get a jukebox? I think I would have noticed if it had been there this morning.”
Sitting in the space between my living and dining room was a restored vintage jukebox. It had been delivered while we were at Mic’s place packing. The purchase had been mostly an impulse buy, but once I saw it, it made me think of our wedding night, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. So, here it was, totally out of place in my home, but I liked that sort of thing.
“Yael signed for it while we were out. Hop up.” I patted her legs. “Let me show it to you.”
I led her over, holding her soft hand in mine. Her other hand brushed over the glass. When I flicked the lights on, her eyes went wide and a little gasp escaped from her parted lips.
“This is a beauty,” she said in awe.
“Right? I’ve had Yael looking for one for a while now, and when she sent me a picture of it, I knew it had to be mine. All the wiring is restored, but the rest is original. Even the records inside.”
Together, we flipped through the music selections. When Michaela got to “At Last” by Etta James, she paused, running her fingertip over the glass.
“I wanted this to be my first dance song at my wedding,” she murmured.
“Oh, yeah?”
She pressed the code to get the song to play. “Devon didn’t like it. He wanted something modern. I grew up listening to this kind of music, though. It wasn’t a Sunday if Nina Simone wasn’t pouring from the speakers.”
I tugged her against me, one hand on her lower back, the other clutching hers. “Let’s give you a do-over.”
She tossed her head back and grinned. “Is this our wedding dance?”