Page 103 of Buckled in Barbwire

Dad silently chews on that for a moment. “You don’t love him?”

“I didn’t at the time,” I mumble.

“But now?” Mom is sitting forward, eager for another modification to this scene.

I gnaw on my inner cheek, sliding a glance to Brody. “Maybe?”

His smirk has me ready to throw caution to the wind. “We’ve come a long way, Twinkles.”

“Pretty quickly,” I murmur in return.

“This is super romantic,” Gemma croons.

Ryder pulls a face. “The grub is worth sitting through it.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad he buckled me in barbwire.” I hold up my ring, which sparkles in the dim lighting. “Our relationship is real and I’m happy.”

My husband presses a kiss to my inner wrist, which earns him a unified sigh from the peanut gallery. “You gave me more chances than I deserved.”

“It’s turning out to be better than the best bad decision I’ll ever make.” I wink and blow him a kiss.

“Okay, enough of that. Dad?” Bianca turns the spotlight on Dennis. “Don’t you have anything else to say?”

He shrugs, scratching at the whiskers on his chin. “Not sure what all the fuss is about. They’re crazy ‘bout each other. I just gave Brody a nudge in the right direction.”

“More like a shove,” my husband corrects.

“Okay, fine,” the old man concedes. “This might be my fault. I put too much pressure on you.”

Brody’s scoff smothers the excuse. “That’s not the issue, and it never has been.”

Dennis exhales a wry chuckle. “I selfishly wanted to see you settled, but my intentions were good. Besides, arrangements like this used to be common practice.”

“In ancient history,” Bianca huffs.

He waves that away. “Doesn’t matter how it started. It’s about what you do with the opportunity. Walking away is easy. Sticking around for the fight takes effort. From what I can see”—he points his fork between us—“it’s worked out just fine.”

And the rest of our meal follows that theme. Dessert is served soon after our parents give us their blessing. Again. We gobble the cranberry upside-down cake like heathens.An orange glaze and maple whipped cream were the literal icing on top.

When we’re about to burst, hugs and warm wishes are exchanged before calling it a night. I hug my parents and siblings, sending them home with plenty of leftovers. Dennis wanders off in the direction of the backyard while Bianca saunters to her prospective personal space of the mansion.

“This might be a silly question,” I ponder while Brody escorts me back to the dining room. “Do we have to do the dishes?”

He grunts and shakes his head. “But I’m going to do you on top of them.”

“What’s that now?”

“Dinner was great, but food is just bland sustenance. I barely taste it. You’re the only thing my appetite craves.”

That’s how I find myself hoisted onto the table in front of his chair. Warmth washes over me when Brody unbuckles his jeans before sitting down. His cock juts upright in obvious excitement. My stomach clenches, still hungry even after that incredible feast.

“Take off your underwear,” my husband commands.

“Bossy.” I immediately settle into the role while removing the scrap of lace from underneath my dress.

He grabs the discarded bundle from my grip, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deep. “Fuck, you smell like sugar.”

I gawk at the filthy act while his eyes burn into mine. “That’s dirty, husband.”

---