Page 156 of Menace in Vegas

I tighten my hold. “I’d marry you again right now if I could.”

“We already did that. Twice. In Vegas.”

“I’d do it again. Every damn day.”

She kisses me, soft and deep, and I melt into her.

When we part, I release a sigh of pure contentment.

This is the kind of night you build a life around. Not because it’s perfect. But because we survived the storm to get here.

From the upper deck, Gram’s voice echoes down to us. “GUESS WHAT? I’M ABOUT TO FLASH CAPTAIN JIMMY!”

Allie lifts her head, eyes twinkling. “Still perfect?”

I kiss my wife. “Even more so.”

When the song ends, I release her so she can grab another drink.

I pull out my phone and text Ford.

Your grandmother just yelled about flashing her pirate boyfriend.

Hope your houseplants die.

66

CONNOR

All good things must come to an end.

One minute, I was slow dancing with my wife under the stars, pretending we were the kind of people who have peaceful honeymoons.

The next, Gram was leading a drunken singalong, trying to convince the boat crew to let her steer while whisper-yelling to Allie that “Captain Jimmy has great hip flexibility for a man with a titanium knee.”

I’m going to need therapy.

Or tequila.

Probably both.

Allie and I called it a night after we snuck away, and she gave me a blow job on the cruise. Then I made her moan so loud I was afraid we’d get arrested.

We’re holding hands beneath a velvet-black sky when we head back to the bungalow.

The ocean breeze drifts through the open windows.

I’m brushing my teeth while Allie lounges in bed wearing my shirt and nothing else, looking like every fantasy I’ve ever had come to life.

She’s watching me, heart-eyes locked and loaded.

“You’re staring again,” I say around a mouthful of foam.

“Isn’t that a wife’s job?” she teases, dragging her gaze down my body like she’s mentally undressing me.

“You’re doing a great job,” I tell her. “Your face is making that soft little expression. It’s disgustingly cute.”

“You love it.”

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