Tied(67)



That’s when I notice another couple dancing off to my right—not anywhere as close as Kate and I are—but still, for a second I’m shocked.

Because it’s Mackenzie and Johnny Fucking Fitzgerald.

Her one hand is on his shoulder, his at her waist, while their other arms are bent at the elbow, hands clasped in the classic ballroom posture.

I almost pity him. Because even though it’s not intentional? My girl was born to be a heartbreaker.

As I watch them silently, Johnny makes his move. Catching Mackenzie off guard, the little bastard presses his lips to hers and snatches a kiss. Her first, I’m guessing. It’s chaste and over as quickly as it started.

Johnny pulls back and looks hopeful. But Mackenzie . . . she seems confused . . . until she’s not. Then she rips her hand from his.

And punches him right in the gut.

“Ooof!” He folds at the waist, holding his stomach, and Mackenzie stomps off.

I help the kid off the dance floor. “You need to work on reading a chick’s signals or you’re gonna be getting hit a lot, Casanova.”

“Kenzie hits hard for a girl,” he rasps.

“She kicks harder. You got off lucky.” Once he’s in a chair, I pat his shoulder. “Better luck next time.”

Then I return to my wife’s waiting arms.



An hour later, it’s speech time. Completely at ease, Matthew taps his glass with a spoon and then addresses the silenced crowd.

“As the best man, I could stand up here and tell you stories about Drew and Kate. How they met, their accomplishments and battles at the office, what amazing parents they are, how devoted they are to family and friends. But that would take a long time . . . and dessert is coming.” The audience chuckles. “So I’ll sum it up like this: Drew is one of a kind in the greatest of ways. When God made him, he broke the mold. But he didn’t want him to be alone. So he made Kate, and then he broke her mold too.” Matthew raises his glass and the crowd raise theirs. “If ever there was a man and a woman who were perfect for each other, who deserve each other and bring out the best in each other—it’s you two. Congratulations on your marriage—may it be long and fun and frisky—and may you always look at one another the way you do today. To Drew and Kate.”

Got to hand it to him—Matthew knows how to give a good f*cking speech.

After toasting us, the crowd calls for a kiss—which I’m more than happy to provide.

Later, after Delores got wasted and dragged Kate and Billy onstage to sing “That’s What Friends Are For,” after the cake was cut and I licked the icing off Kate’s lips, after Kate threw her bouquet into Erin’s waiting arms, and Dee’s stepbrother made a diving catch of the garter, we dance the final dance.

The floor is packed with our family, with all of our friends. In the center are me and Kate. I hold a sleeping James with one arm, his head on my shoulder. The other arm is around Kate’s waist, holding her tight against me, her head on my chest, my lips resting against her hair.

If you’ve got a camera, I’d whip it out right about now—’cause that’s the money shot. The picture you’re going to want to remember.



My parents take James to their room for the night. Kate and I fly out tomorrow afternoon. While we’re gone, James will stay a week with my sister and Steven, and a week with Matthew and Dee. Then, my parents will bring him out to us on the Amalfi Coast in Italy. They’ll take off on their own romantic getaway, and Kate, James, and I will enjoy the last leg of the honeymoon together.

The elevator opens on the top floor. Before Kate steps out, I sweep her into my arms and cradle her as I walk to our suite.

“You’re supposed to carry me over the threshold, Drew. Not through the whole hotel.”

I shrug. “I’ve always been an overachiever.”

I open the door and carry her in. The bed is awesome. An oversize king with huge, fluffy pillows, red silk sheets, and a comforter of the softest down. Rose petals are scattered in a path to the bed and over the covers, giving off a soft but fragrant scent.

I shift Kate in my arms and slide her down my body. Her eyes dance with happy mischief as they look into mine. “I’m going to need some help getting out of this dress.”

I crack my knuckles. “You’ve got the right man for the job.”

My fingers ghost along the silky skin of her back. I take my time with the buttons, popping each one slowly, giving Kate’s imagination time to run wild.

As the last button is released, I step closer to Kate. I watch, fascinated, as the pulse in her neck throbs quickly with anticipation. I cover it with my mouth, sucking gently. Kate lifts her head and leans back.

“I’ve thought about this all day,” I whisper against her skin. “Getting you here, getting you bare.”

“So have I.”

With one tug, the lace and satin pools around her feet, revealing my favorite playground. Kate steps over the dress and turns to me. Though I’m not a lingerie man, her undergarments are nothing short of beautiful. Blue silk with a white lace overlay—the bra strapless, the panties bikini, leading to sexy garters that keep opaque stockings in place.

There’s wonder in Kate’s voice as she says, “You’re my husband.” Then she smiles giddily. “How great is that?”

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