Page 155 of Going for Two

Father Conrad greets us warmly and begins with the sign of the cross, and I do my best to listen intently. But my eyes admittedly wander off to the side when I hear a baby crying out. It sounds like Charley, though I can’t tell from this angle which baby Mrs. T is lifting over her shoulder. She pats the diapered bottom softly and bounces, quieting what must be Charley, since Penny would never calm that easily without her pacifier. My mom stands beside them, slowly rocking an identical swaddle from side to side. Both of the babies are dressed in the frilly white gowns we recycled from last week’s triple baptism.

I turn my attention back to the priest, since this stuff is probably pretty important. A few minutes pass before another cry echoes throughout the church, but this time I instinctively know it’s not one of mine. I glance at Tenley, who cringes and shoots JD a panicked look before she crosses her arms over her chest, I imagine to prevent a lactation malfunction.

Baby Jake continues to fuss, and Father pauses for Tenley to pass our bouquets to my sister so she can take the baby from Ethan. My godson’s new agenda quickly changes once he smells his mother, and he begins rooting around and snorting greedily.

Tenley groans and turns to mouth a “sorry” to me before she flings a blanket over her shoulder and pacifies thepetit cochonwith yet another snack. I smile inwardly when I remember how she never thought she’d be able to handle motherhood a year ago, and now she’s seamlessly nursing a baby during a wedding—mywedding.

Because I’m getting married. To Blake freaking Bourgeois.

Pay attention, Lo.

Blake laughs quietly when Father begins again and has to raise his voice to cover up smacking and grunting sounds emanating from beneath that blanket. My eyes drift over to JD, whose elbow nudges my brother’s side when he catches Landry watching Tenley too carefully, and I can’t help but giggle.

We make it halfway through our vows before Penny begins screeching—her trademark, high-pitched shriek is unmistakable—but, thankfully, her pacifier does its job.

“Pen, of course,” Blake whispers, grinning at me.

I smile warmly in return, because I’m lucky to be marrying the kind of man who recognizes his three-month-old identical twins by their cries. It’s such a good thought that I say it aloud, and he bites his lip while his eyes water again.

Father Conrad finishes up and pronounces us man and wife, inviting Blake to kiss his bride (that’sme, y’all the bride, aka Mrs. Blake Bourgeois). I imagine each of our guests is waiting with bated breath for him to do something inappropriate. But before he can move, I grasp the lapels of my husband’s jacket and drag him down as I lift to my tiptoes and plant my mouth on his. I feel a rumble of approval in his chest, and he cups his hands around my waist to tug my body against his.

“Hey, now. That’s not church tongue,” I hear JD calling out in the distance, followed by a chuckle from the crowd.

Blake reluctantly pulls away, a cocky smirk plastered across his face. “I hope you realize this new contract renders the original ground rules completely null and void, Mrs. Bourgeois,” he murmurs, staring at me with a sexy, smoldering look and making my stomach swoop the way that only he can.

I lick my lips before I answer. “And how do you know this wasn’t my plan all along, Counselor?”

“Gah, I love you.” He sighs and shakes his head.

I shrug and bat my eyelashes at him. “Prove it, Gus-Gus.”

He cocks an eyebrow and makes me squeal when he leans down to lift me into his capable arms, and I crook my elbow behind his neck and beam at him as he walks us out of the church.

Nope, I take that back—Blake never simplywalks. This time, I think hefloats, despite the extra weight in his arms.

“Does this mean we can go home and take care of some pressing business before the reception?” he asks and sets me down just outside the doors of the church.

“Unfortunately not,” I say with a sigh, directing him to go around so we can reenter the church on the other side. “We’ve got pictures.”

He groans but stops us and kisses me softly anyway. “Iwashoping to get a small taste of cake first. I’ve been such a good boy, after all.”

“There’ll be some—oh,” I giggle when I finally catch on. “Well, here’s the thing. You didn’t really give me a budget when I was dress shopping, and I just happened to fall in love with two dresses. So, per Tenley’s recommendation, I bought both,” I tell him with a shrug.

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling me in again.

“Yep. One for the ceremony, one for the reception.”

The truth is that I really did find two dresses that I absolutely loved, and I’d have felt entirely too guilty buying more than one dress had it not been a total flex on Nicole at the dress shop. I’m not usually a mean girl, but she fired the first shot when she picked on my man.

“What I’m hearing is, you’re going to need some help to get changed?” Blake asks, his voice deep and velvety and his lips warm against my skin.

I tilt my head to the side for him to continue kissing and nipping at my neck. “My matron of honor was originally assigned to those duties, but I suppose you’ll do in a pinch.”

“You can assure my sister-in-law that she’ll be leaving you in very,verycapable hands,” he mutters, emphasizing his offer by running his palms down to my butt and grazing his teeth over my earlobe. He hums in approval when I shiver.

But we’re interrupted by the rest of the wedding party, and my sister ushers everyone back to the altar for the most chaotic group photo session in history with all of the squabbling infants involved. And I have to spend the next thirty minutes pretending I’m not thinking so hard about doing spicy things with my husband that my toes are curling inside my fancy shoes.

“I know I’m supposed to assist you with your wardrobe change now,” Tenley begins with a smirk, “but I’m afraid your godson is prepping for his first big growth spurt, so it’s probably best if your husband goes in my place. Can you forgive me for abandoning you in your time of need?”

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