“She’s cool because she likes to think of you naked. We can’t have any of that juju at our wedding.”
I bark out a laugh. “Everyone likes to think of me naked, babe. It’s a curse.”
“Pick a song, Robert.”
I brush her hair aside and lean in to nibble on her collarbone. “You pick, baby. The floor’s all yours.”
“Okay…” She hums with appreciation. “What about Endless Love? We could do the Glee version and sing a duet together?”
I leave my face buried exactly where it is so she can’t see my smirk. I love my girl. I truly do, and if she really wants to sing, I can be into it. I’d do whatever she wanted, but the problem is, shecan’tsing. She’s so awful that even screeching cats sound better. “Umm… Are you sure you don’t wanna leave it to the band? You know, so you can relax and enjoy yourself without…”sounding like a rodent,“getting stressed about singing.”
She coughs on a laugh and pushes me back until our eyes lock. “I’m screwing with you, Bobby. Geez, you’re always so serious these days. What happened to the pineapple joke guy?”
I tickle her thigh and send her scrambling. “That was a funny joke, woman! Stop picking apart my funnies, and I’ll stop being so serious all the time.”
“Stop!” she screeches. “Stop tickling me.”
“Then suggest a serious song.”
“Fine,” she huffs and hiccups on her giggles. “What aboutI Won’t Give Up,by Jason Mraz? Or, I really like Sam Smith,Stay With Me.”
“Is this a legit suggestion, or are you still being a clown?”
“Legit.” Her voice is deep and mockingly serious, but her snickers continue.
“Alright, legit answer.” Her giggles are beautiful. She can make fun of me forever, and I wouldn’t care one bit. “I like both of those. I pick Jason Mraz… that’s a cool song.”
“Done!” She leans across me clumsily and scribbles in her tossed aside book. “Next… Vows. Write our own or use the generic kind?”
“Our own. Definitely.”
Her eyes pop wide with surprise. “Really?”
“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I wanna tell you how amazing and beautiful and smart and pretty you are in front of all our friends and family? I need to announce to the world how I’m going to look after you.” I drop a kiss on her lips. “How I’m gonna spend my life with you.” Another. “How I think I’m the luckiest son of a bitch on this planet because you said yes to me. Of course I want to write my own shit. Plus, there’s the pineapple joke.” I frown. “You don’t wanna write your own vows?”
She snickers lightly, but the emotion remains in her eyes. “Yeah, I do. That sounds really nice.”
“Good.” I drop a last kiss on her jaw. “So it’s decided. Next?”
“This is so exciting. I can’t wait to marry you, Bobby.” Trumping my peppered kisses, she presses her juicy lips to mine and hums against my mouth. So tasty. All mine. “Next… Is dinner.”
“We’re having pizza, yeah?”
She rolls her eyes. “I meant for the wedding, you twit, not tonight.”
I stroke her ribs in threat. “I was talking about the wedding, too.”
“I think maybe we should get a little fancier…” She flicks my hand away before I can tickle. “It’s a wedding, you know? Maybe we should offer a chicken and beef thing, instead. Plus a vegetarian option for the weirdos.”
I bark out a laugh. “Fine, we’ll find a stinking caterer, and we’ll have a stinking chicken and beef dish, even though there are no weirdos on the invite list. Cows for everyone. But just remember, when we’re sitting at our table on the day and everyone’s picking at their beef, it could’ve been pizza. I hope you can sleep tonight knowing what you’ve done.”
She rolls her eyes and adds notes to her book. “I’ll organize the catering. You just sit back and expect the women to cater to you. No big deal.”
I flash a wide grin. “It sure is nice being a man.”
She smacks my shoulder and tosses her pen away. “Alright. That’s it. You can chill now.”
“That’s it?” I look around my living room as though I expect people to be standing with their own notebooks. “Nothing else?”