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Put Me in Detention(119)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“Looks like my wife doesn’t know how to appreciate a fine ankle when she sees one.”

“Apparently not.” I lift up on my toes and press another kiss to his lips.

There’s no doubt about it, I love this man. Like I told Stella, it crept up on me, and then BAM, out of nowhere, I fell . . . fell in love. Now, whenever I see him—apart from when he’s in a damask tuxedo—butterflies erupt in my stomach, nerves eat away at me, and I can’t get into his arms quick enough.

“Well, this is fun,” Stella says, off to the side.

I step away, but Pike keeps his arm around me, tucking me against his side.

“Sorry, just seeing him in this outfit, it makes me want to maul him,” I say in a sarcastic tone.

“I can see why.” Stella gives him another once-over. “I believe I’m seconds away from having an orgasm just from the sheen of the damask.”

“Like I said, get it out now, ladies, because there will be no insults when Keiko can hear.”

“Please, we’d never do that,” Stella says. “I’m going to assume, since you’re out here, that the bride is ready?”

“She is,” Pike replies. “She wanted to see if you were ready.”

“We are,” I say. “Has anyone checked on Kelvin?”

“Romeo and Gunner are with him presently,” Pike says. “Romeo was running around a few minutes ago looking for a fan because Kelvin started to sweat through his outfit from nerves.”

“But they’re already married,” Stella says. “What’s he nervous about?”

“Saying his vows in front of everyone.”

“Poor Kelvin,” I say. “Thank God he loves Keiko so much.”

“He does.” Pike looks at me and then presses a kiss to my forehead. “So, we’re ready for this?”

“We’re ready,” I say.

“Then I’ll go get the bride. See you out here.” With a parting kiss, Pike takes off toward the house while I stare after him.

Stella walks up next to me and says, “You know, even in that outfit, he’s pretty damn hot. I think it’s the accent.”

“I think it’s the whole package. Every last piece of him.”

Stella laughs. “Oh yeah, you’re so in love with that man.”

I am. Very much so.

“I, ahem, I’m quite the, uh, lucky man,” Kelvin says, glancing around, a tidal wave of sweat falling from his forehead, which Romeo keeps dabbing with a handkerchief. “I never—” Kelvin pulls on the collar of his shirt and clears his throat. Oh, this is painful to watch. The poor guy wants nothing to do with proclaiming his love in front of a small crowd. How the heck does he teach? “I never thought I would find a specimen of the female variety, quite like you.” He lets out a deep breath. The paper in his hand rattles and shakes. “You please me.” He looks up at Keiko, who’s standing dignified, hands crossed and resting in front of her, chin held high, flower headdress affixed like a crown and stretching a foot into the sky. An impressive height.

When we started planning this wedding, Keiko said Victorian Christmas, and yet, she seems to be wearing something from the medieval era. I was expecting puffy sleeves and a robust skirt, but instead, she’s wearing a simple white sheath dress, an outfit I would expect to see in Pride and Prejudice. And Kelvin, well, he’s decked out in an outfit I believe to be from the renaissance era—funny little hat, kilt, and velvety king’s jacket—probably why he’s sweating so much.

And then my husband, in that . . . suit . . . looking completely out of place, and yet, the colors flow and it somehow works.

Kelvin takes one final breath and says, “I look forward to bedding you for the rest of my life.” Eh, yikes. Who says that in wedding vows?

“Oh, Kelvin,” Keiko says, dabbing her eyes.

Kelvin stuffs his paper in his pocket, retrieves his handkerchief from Romeo, and then dabs his face while taking a few deep breaths. The sag in his shoulders shows how relieved he is to be done with his vows.

You please me. I look forward to bedding you for the rest of my life.

I believe those two sentences will stay in my brain, rent-free, for the rest of my life.

Pike steps up to Keiko and hands her a notebook. Carefully, Keiko opens the leather-bound book, flips it open to the second page, clears her throat, and reads, “To whom it may concern.”

To whom it may concern?

Is this a cover letter or wedding vows?

“I hereby declare, on this day of December, that the male species standing forthright parallel to my person, is intellectually inclined, heroically tenacious, awkwardly introverted, boundlessly obsessed with me, an admirer of arithmetic, and enormously endowed.”