The Firework Exploded (The Holidays #3)(50)

“You peed on me in my bed while I was sleeping!” Scheva shouts.

“This is the worst Fourth of July ever,” my dad complains. “I didn’t get to properly light off my illegal fireworks, I didn’t get to eat any corn on the cob, barbeque chicken or pasta salad, and now my appetite is ruined forever because of all the urine-obsessed yahoos in this room. I don’t understand any of you people.”

Aunt Bobbie pats my dad on the back, grabbing her phone out of her purse and pulling him away from the bed.

“Here, I have some fun porn bookmarked about just this thing that I believe will clear up any confusion,” she tells him, handing him her phone. “If you enjoy the elbow fisting, this should be right up your alley. Take notes and we’ll have a quiz tomorrow over left-over corn, chicken, and pasta.”

Everyone crowds around my father to look at Aunt Bobbie’s phone and Sam and I go right back to ignoring the curses, groans of disgust, and my father shouting, “THAT’S NOT WHERE PEE GOES! DOESN’T ANYONE USE A TOILET ANYMORE!”

We keep our heads pressed together, pretending like we’re the only two people in the room.

“I loved you through seven months of crazy, and I can’t wait to keep loving you for the rest of our lives and every single crazy holiday that comes,” I whisper, finishing the short version of my own vows.

We share a soft, slow kiss in the middle of Sam’s hospital bed while our family argues and watches porn in the corner of the room. Everyone stops talking and Sam and I end our kiss when we hear a couple of faint pops outside the window. We turn our heads together to look outside, surprised to see fireworks exploding in the night sky, not too far from the hospital. Nicholas flips the light switch by the door and the room goes dark while everyone quietly moves around Sam’s bed to stand in front of the window and watch the show.

“Not as good as mine would have been, but they’re not too shabby either,” my dad states softly as bursts of colors light up the dark room every few seconds.

He turns his head to look back at Sam and nods.

“Happy Fourth of July, son,” he tells him quietly.

I sigh happily when my dad finally says something sweet to Sam, swiping a few stray tears off of my cheek that his words caused.

“Happy Fourth of July, Dad,” Sam replies back with a smile.

The room is quiet as the two men stare at each other for a few seconds, before my father opens his mouth and ruins the tender moment.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself there, shit stick. Fireworks put me in a good mood even if I’m not the one lighting them off. It won’t last, so don’t get used to it. You should still sleep with one eye open,” he informs Sam before turning back around to continue watching the fireworks with the rest of the family.

Pressing a button on the railing of my bed, Sam lowers the upper section until we’re reclining back enough to get comfortable. I pull my legs up on the bed and curl into Sam’s side, resting my cheek on his shoulder and my arm on his stomach as we enjoy the rest of the fireworks.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” I tell him, leaning over the side of the bed and grabbing the gift bag I asked my mother to bring that she snuck into the room earlier when Sam wasn’t paying attention.

Handing him the bag, he pulls out the tissue paper on top and grabs the items inside, his eyes widening when he has them in his hand.

“Happy wedding, Sam,” I tell him, reaching over to open the front cover of the top book in the stack.

“Holy shit. This is a signed copy of Seduction and Snacks,” he whispers in awe, tracing his fingers over the inscription written in pink Sharpie.

“My boss knows the author and she pulled a few strings for me,” I explain. “And I guess the author also knows Debra Anastasia, Helena Hunting, Meghan Quinn, and Katherine Stevens, so she was able to get me signed copies of their books, too.”

Sam flips through each of his favorite books, laughing when he sees the crazy things the authors have written for him in them. Setting them on the side of the bed, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me back down to his side.

“Best presents ever. Happy Fourth of July, wife,” Sam whispers, kissing the top of my head.

“Happy Fourth of July, husband. Quick, say something piggish before I start crying again.”

As the grand finale booms outside the window and everyone’s backs are to us, I lift my head to look up Sam as he whispers as many inappropriate things about my tits, ass, and vagina that he can think of until my eyes are completely dry from tears and the wetness has traveled much further south.

“You’re lucky a firework exploded against your dick and we have to wait a few days for it to heal, otherwise we’d be doing all of those dirty things right here with my family in the room, and then my dad would definitely kill you,” I inform him.

“Well, thank God that firework exploded then,” he laughs as I rest my head back on his chest and we finish watching the grand finale. “I look forward to many more years and many more holidays with you, but hopefully this will be the only holiday that results in almost burning my dick off.”

Unfortunately, there are no guarantees with this family. Now that we’re married and Sam’s vows erased any doubts I might have had about my family driving him away (or insane), I realize everything will be perfectly fine, singed ball hair or not.