After our make-up sex night, we spent the next week cooking meals together, fucking like rabbits, and talking about our respective businesses. I learned that Jack owned shares in Johansen Brewing and had taken over as CEO early on, while the primary owner, Erik, his best friend, was more interested in the artful beer brewing side of things.

Jack had an incredible mind for business, marketing, finance, and claimed the power behind their success wasn’t just a great product. It was in the people they hired and their combined talents that made up the secret sauce to a profitable and smoothly functioning company.

Once Jack and I had talked through all the ins and outs of Humble Buds and reached out to his PR team—who took the information of our impending marriage in stride—we fell into a really comfortable togetherness. Something I hadn’t experienced with the other men in my past. Usually, my anxiety and general awkwardness, or my unique family and the deep connection we shared would turn them off. Jack seemed to appreciate those things most about me. Maybe not the anxiety part, but that was a demon I battled internally every day. Having someone who was a good listener and helped to logically workthrough a situation fended off a lot of my day-to-day anxiety. And of course, regular cannabis use helped tremendously.

I stared at his bare, muscular back as he flipped half of the omelet over to cover all the cooked veggies and cheese he’d placed on one side. He repeated the process with a second omelet cooking on another burner. The man knew how to cook, and it had become something we enjoyed doing together.

“You know, my mother has some crazy intense plans for our wedding,” I said while cutting a cantaloupe into bite sized cubes.

He chuckled, looked over his shoulder at me and grinned. “I am not surprised by this information. When you say intense, I’m thinking Halloween themed with witches, pumpkins, ghouls, and other ghosties.”

I looked him dead in the face and held the most serious expression I could without bursting into laughter.

His grin slipped away the longer my expression didn’t change. Suddenly his eyes widened in what could only be horror. “No. She wouldn’t dare…” he gasped.

I held off as long as I could until I exploded with laughter. “Boy, I had you!” I chortled and giggled so hard I had trouble catching my breath.

He shook his head and pursed his lips in a playful pout. “You’re going to pay for that one,solskinn. Just you wait.” He lifted both pans off the flame and tipped them until each omelet slid perfectly onto the plates next to him.

“Oh, come on, that was too easy. But I wasn’t kidding. She does have some wild ideas.”

“Such as…” He reached for the paper towels and pulled off two, then grabbed both plates and set them on the table.

While he went to refill our coffee cups, I scooped the fruit onto each plate.

“She was definitely thinking a harvest style wedding, and she did mention pumpkins, but not the stereotypical Halloweendecorations. We don’t observe Halloween in our faith. We celebrate Samhain, the Pagan new year, or the end of summer and the harvest.”

“Okay, so what would a harvest wedding entail?” he asked as he sat down in front of one of the plates.

I slid into the seat next to him and picked up my fork. “Mostly earthly things like hay bales, cornucopias, orange, red, yellow flowers and decorations. Candles, some rustic wooden tables for guests, fairy lights and such.”

He shrugged. “Sounds great. Do we know which day we’re thinking? I’ll need to get invites out to my extended family.”

I frowned, uncertain of what he meant when he’d made it clear he didn’t have blood relatives and had been raised primarily in foster homes and a school for boys.

“The Johansens. Erick and Savannah of course, but also his parents have been the adoptive parents I never had. I’ll want to invite the Goodalls and their entire clan, Memphis Taylor and his fiancée, Jade Lee, Alana and Christophe, the Castellano family, and of course, Ellen and my favorite little human, TJ.”

The way he mentioned the child’s name made me smile like a loon. “You love that kid, don’t you?”

He cut a piece of his omelet and poked it with his fork. “I do. He’s the closest thing I have to Troy.”

“And Troy was the friend you lost in the…um… helicopter crash.”

He sighed. “Yeah. Two and a half years ago. Not long before TJ was born. And Erik was in the hospital practically in a full body cast, lost to his grief. We were what Americans call “The Three Musketeers”. Inseparable friends for many long years.”

“I’m guessing that meant it was up to you to help Troy’s wife through it all.”

He swallowed his food then leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you bringing this up?” His tone was shockingly raw and accusatory.

I lifted up my hands in surrender. “Jack, I meant no ill will. I just want to know you. The good and the bad, honey,” I hedged.

He groaned, dipped his head and combed his fingers through his hair. “Sorry. It’s not easy to talk about that time in my life.”

“Usually, the complicated things aren’t easy to talk about,” I agreed. “Tell me more about Ellen and TJ.”

Mentioning the two people still living had his frown turning upside down.

“The kid owns my heart. He’s exactly like Troy, even at such a young age. He’s inquisitive and curious about everything. Can be shy around new people and loves to laugh. When I take him out, people think he’s mine.” His cheeks tinged pink at the admission.