Page 91 of Desperate Desires

Mmm hmm.

“Holy fucking shit. Shelly, he sounds really into you. And judging from that expression, I take it he takes good care of you, too,” Micky said, and I heard the bow-chicka-wow-wow in her voice.

Sigh.

“I am not discussing sex with you two perverts,” I said, shaking my head.

“Come on! We shared with you. Plus, I want to know more about the whole shotgun airplane wedding. And, oh my fuck, Shelly! I want to go to your island!” Clem whined, as if her father didn’t have one, too.

“I will say one thing, and you know this takes a lot for me to say out loud.”

“Hey, you can tell us anything, Shell,” Micky said, tears welling in her eyes.

I narrowed my eyes. Micky wasn’t usually overly emotional. Hmm. Made me wonder.

Was she pregnant again already?

“I know that. And, well, I never expected to have anyone like Ono walk into my life. I mean, I always thought romance like that was reserved for women like you guys. Rich, beautiful, loved, sure of your place in this world. And I don’t mean that in a self-pitying kind of way,” I admitted with a shrug.

“Shelly, what the fuck? You are rich, beautiful, loved and deserving of everything good in this world!” Clementine said, indignance showing in her voice.

“Well, I’m not rich.” I snorted.

“Shut up,” she replied with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Look, I know, I know. Honestly, I think living with Aunt Agnes, even for a short while, kinda messed with my opinion of myself. You girls are my real family.”

“And you are ours, Shelly,” Micky whispered tearfully. “And your husband?”

“I think he might be my family, too. I like him,” I whispered, and felt echoing tears spill from my eyes.

“Shelly, that’s so good.”

“No, I mean, I really like him. I might even love him.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Micky cried.

“I never expected him to look for me after our initial meeting. Definitely never thought he would marry me. But now that I do have him, well, I think I want to keep him. But what do I do if he gets tired of me?” I asked, wiping my cheeks.

“If he gets tired of you, we’ll just hit him over the head with a frying pan. What?” Micky asked when we all gasped.

Gasps turned to snorts. And that, of course, led to chuckles.

“I don’t think domestic violence is the answer, Mick,” Clem replied, while I tried to recover from a fit of laughter.

“Mom had her latest romance heroine do that and her readers went nuts for it.”

“Okay, well, this was fun, but I gotta go get dressed,” I said, shaking my head.

“Fine. You can go get dressed, but we are hosting a party for you and your hubby at that fancy new hotel in Manhattan on Saturday.”

“The Stargazer?” I asked.

“Yep. Uncle Marat owns the majority of the place, and I asked him to reserve the rooftop restaurant for us, and he did. Plus, he got us all suites there, too! We are going to meet at ten AM at their exclusive Spa and by the time we are finished, the men will be ready and waiting!”

“Oh, um, I don’t know, Mick?—”

“Nonsense. It’s all arranged. We are going to celebrate you and Ono whether or not you want to, Shelly, so you might as well just go with it.”

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