Page 106 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

A two-hour window to celebrate marriage to this man is not long enough. Good thing I have the rest of my life with him. Nick asks, “You ready to start that honeymoon?”

“Definitely.”

As we hug everyone goodbye and thank them for being here, I see Harrison trying to talk to Tatum and her effectively blowing him off. I’m curious what happened between them, considering how well they hit it off last time we were here. If that’s not a story in the making, I don’t know what is.

Hugging my dad, I rest my head on his shoulder. It’s not but a few seconds, but we sway together. He says, “You owe me a father-daughter dance.”

“I promise we’ll get one when I’m back in New York.” He looks good. Healthy and happy. My mother’s never been more relaxed, even talking to Cookie about astrology and the moon phases of women. I’m not sure what that means, but I love that they get along so well.

While everyone goes outside, Nick and I stand there, holding hands. He’s still Mr. Sexy, but there’s no smug found in his smile. Just pure, unadulterated joy. It looks good on him. Our guests start chanting our names. Nick kisses my bare shoulder and then offers his arm. I wrap mine around his, and we rush through the doors into bubbles being blown. The bubbles fill the air as we pop a few running toward the parking lot.

Nick stops and then laughs so hard that he holds his stomach. When he turns back to me, he says, “Is this the actual scooter we rode on?”

“It is. And now it’s all ours.”

“You’re very good. The strings of cans and just-married sign are a nice touch.”

“What can I say? I strive to bring smiles.”

He comes to me and lifts me into the air. “Mission accomplished.” Lowering me slowly, he takes advantage and kisses me from my collarbone to my lips, until my feet are firmly back on the ground. He achieves an impossible feat, considering I’m floating on cloud nine.

Taking the helmet with my new name—Mrs. Christiansen—on the back of it, he carefully places it on my head and snaps the strap under my chin before putting his on. I pull my skirt up to my thighs and slip onto the seat. When he gets on the scooter, he asks, “I thought you hated everything on two wheels?”

I wrap my arms around him, holding on for the ride of my life. “I did, but I hadn’t met you yet, and here we are now married. How are we so lucky to have found our way back to each other in a city of almost nine million people?”

“It’s not luck, baby.” Starting the engine, he revs it a few times before looking at me over his shoulder with a big grin. “I would have found you again one way or another because the truth is, I never got over you.”

The End.

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