Page 94 of It's Complicated

Jace pulls back, looking at me with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I’m dying to get you home. But first I have to make an honest woman out of you,” he jokes, and kisses me again.

We kiss again and my fingers itch to touch him, to feel his skin, but I can’t find a point of access. This tux that I found so sexy only moments ago, now has turned into an impenetrable barrier.

Jace doesn’t have the same impediments, my dress is way more generous with the amount of skin he’s allowed to touch, kiss, bite.

He trails soft kisses down my neck and collarbone and I’m about to throw all patience out the window and begin unbuttoning his blazer when his phone vibrates with a reminder.

“We’re on,” Jace says.

He efficiently pulls up his phone and connects with the marriage license office through a video link.

The interview is brief, over in less than fifteen minutes.

“Go wait for me in the Red Lacquer Room,” Jace says. “I’ll come with the pastor.”

The ceremony is done and over in less than ten minutes. The pastor leaves us immediately afterward, eager to get back to the dessert buffet, I suspect. So Jace and I are alone in the grand room.

I hold his hands, my husband’s hands, saying, “This must be the shortest wedding in the history of weddings.”

A wicked grin lights up his face. “Then I’ll make the wedding night the longest of your life.” He winks at me, and I want to drag him down to the hotel lobby, book a room, and get started on that project right away. But we can’t, not yet.

I shake my head, grinning. “We have to be there for the cutting of the cake.”

Jace nods. “Let’s go back to the party.”

We sneak back into the reception ballroom, alone in knowing that we’re husband and wife.

Jace makes a mock bow before me. “Would you do me the honor of a first dance, Mrs. Barlow?”

A thrill runs down my spine. Jace and I are married. I still can’t believe it.

“I would be delighted,” I say, offering him my hand.

Jace slips an arm around my waist and pulls me close.

We sway together to the music. Jace’s hand is warm and firm on my waist, I rest my head on his chest, feeling his heart beating under my ear. I relish the sensation of his arm wrapped around me, of his hand tenderly resting on my waist.

Jace kisses my hair, then my temple, turning my mind fuzzier than it already is. I’m only following the rhythm with my body, barely able to concentrate on anything besides the feathery touch of his lips until he whispers, “I love you more than anything, Lola.”

“I love you, too, hubby.” Now that I’ve said I love you once, I can’t stop repeating it.

Jace smiles a secret smile and pulls me even closer to him. We sway some more. I’m not sure how long we dance, or how many songs pass, but too soon, the music stops.

The wedding coordinator takes up a mic, announcing we have to clear the dancefloor as the wedding cake is about to arrive.

All the guests make room for the massive five-layer white cake being rolled in on a white-clothed cart.

Aiden and Kirsten get behind it. Our friend catches sight of us huddled together and his smile becomes even brighter. All three of us exchange a nod, and Aiden winks before turning his attention back to his bride. They share a glance, then Kirsten says, “Let’s do the thing.”

Aiden nods and they join hands over a huge knife.

The crowd holds its breath as they cut through the white fondant, then a collective sigh spreads around the room as the first slice falls away, revealing a red filling—giving me serious “I Bet You Think About Me” vibes. Kirsten must be a fellow Swiftie, maybe we could get along after all.

Jace and I pull away from each other. He makes a bow and kisses my knuckles. “I’m going to go get us a slice of cake.” His gaze turns teasing as he adds, “Seeing how apparently it’s terrible luck to leave a wedding without having had a bite of cake.”

“Maybe the server didn’t know,” I say. “I could’ve saved him from years of misery and awful luck.”

Jace winks at me, striding off in the direction of the buffet.

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