Hitched(26)

“You hold that dabber expertly,” I say to him instead, holding up three fingers.

“Mrs. O’Dell, you surprise me,” he murmurs.

I reach down and squeeze his solid thigh, because it’s there, and we’re supposed to be playing the happily married couple, and I do like touching him.

I can touch him here.

In public.

It’s not nearly as dangerous as touching him in private.

Also, this last game is taking forever.

Since this is the grand prize, we have to fill our entire card instead of just getting a single row.

Which means I have all the time in the world to lean closer. Let myself indulge in the fantasy that we actually could be the couple playing bingo in matching shirts with Blake’s brothers and their wives while talking about which sex toys are new at the factory.

I sigh dreamily just as Blake shouts, “Bingo!”

“A big purple dildo to the newlyweds!” Cassie cries. “Get up here, you crazy kids, and show off what you just won!”

“If the newlyweds need a dildo, they’re doing something wrong,” Carl yells.

“If you don’t need a dildo, what are you doing here?” Greta yells back.

Blake and I stare at each other, and a moment later, we’re both laughing so hard my eyes are tearing up.

A dildo. And not just any dildo.

We’re the newlyweds who won the dildo to end all dildos.

It’s like they knew I needed something to take the edge off of not sleeping with Blake, even though everyone is laughing and ribbing us and treating this like one big ol’ bachelorette party.

“Maybe if you’re lucky, she’ll show you how she uses it,” Ryan says with a wink when we make our way to the front of the room to claim Blake’s prize.

“And now cake!” Cassie cries, fighting through the crowd with the hedgehogs in a sling, to congratulate us. “Cake first, and then fun times with the dildo.”

“In private,” Olivia adds as she and Jace and the baby also arrive in the midst of the crowd. “Apparently there are laws about public nudity. Silly laws. But still laws.”

She smiles at me, and I hug her tight, then pull Cassie in as well.

I might not know much about marriage, but these women have taught me everything I know about family and community.

I glance over their shoulders to see Blake watching me with a soft expression that makes my heart ache in the good way. Maybe, just maybe, he has some things to teach me too.





Eleven





Blake





* * *



We laugh the entire way home, in complete agreement that the entire town was in cahoots to make sure we took home the purple dildo. We both saw at least one other full card on our way up to claim our prize.

And maybe it was our cracked but delicious cake, or seeing George Cooney perched on the trash can looking very put-out for being denied sweets, or sitting with the sun visor brigade, but anytime one of us stops laughing, the other one snorts, and we both start rolling all over again.

It’s a wonder we make it home safely without Hope’s energy field shorting out my truck. But the hula man on the dash seems extra happy and bouncy, swinging his hips and strumming his ukulele in time with our laughter.

Our shadow follows us through the dusky evening light, parking in his spot across the road—apparently Dean the overly friendly private eye is going to be camping in the Frick’s field for the next month—but the fact that we’re being watched isn’t why I hurry around the truck to open Hope’s door.

It’s because Operation: Real Romance is in full effect, and damn if it doesn’t seem to be working.

I certainly haven’t seen her smile like that in…

Huh. I can’t remember.

Not the last time she smiled at me like that, anyway.

“You want to take this inside?” she asks, holding out our hard-won bingo treasure with a giggle. “I need to go check on the fur babies. Rick, my part-time hand, feeds and stables them on Bingo Night, but I like to do a stable check to make sure everyone’s okay.”

“I’ll come with you.” I tuck the dildo down the front of my pants, letting the massive purple head peek up near my right hip, making Hope giggle again.

“That’s obscene.”

“No, it’s not.” I stroke the dildo protectively. “Don’t talk that way about Dildo Shaggins.”

“Dildo Shaggins? Oh my god.” Her head falls back as she braces an arm on my shoulder and laughs so hard she clearly has to struggle to stay upright.

I want to make her laugh like that every day.

At least once a day.

“But I can’t take credit for the name,” I admit. “It’s from Fellowship of the G-Strings, a hobbit soft porn spin-off.”

She laughs harder. “Hobbit porn. What in the world? Why are people so weird?”

“Says the woman who’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect an innocent alpaca and his sperm.”

“Well, alpaca sperm. That’s a totally different thing.” She sobers abruptly, but I can see the grin still teasing at her lips. “A very serious thing.”

“Very serious,” I echo. “We should go check on him and make sure no one has run away with his balls.”