Page 80 of Pinky Promises

My wife and I are currently mingling with the guests, thanking them for being here with us to celebrate when her parents, John and Lillian Macallister, approach us. It was quite a shock when we received theirwill attend RSVP in the mail.They look about as comfortable as a man who got his dick stuck in an electrical outlet—not that I would know, but it sounds pretty painful.

Brynn decided not to ask her father to walk her down the aisle, and I supported her decision one hundred percent.“He wasn’t there when I needed him in my life. Why start now”was her reasoning. I couldn’t agree more.

“Cal. Brynn.” Her father’s stoic voice greets us.No hugs, no congratulations.Can a person suffocate from tension in the air?

My fingers link with Brynn’s, giving her a silent stem of support. “Thank you for coming.” Anyone who doesn’t know Brynn as I do would believe the sincerity in her voice, but I know better.

“Thank you for the invitation. I think the wedding would have been better located in Havenwood for more people to attend. The food was very—” I hope the next word out of her mouth is delicious or an adjective similar because that’s what everything we’ve eaten so far has been. “Mediocre. I could have given you the number of the catering company we always use.”

Ladies and gentlemen, my in-laws.This woman is fucking infuriating—like you’re really going to stand here and just pick apart the little details of our wedding day? I open my mouth to speak when a literal growl comes from my five-foot-two wife beside me.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You know what, this is my life, not yours. Those are your friends, not mine. I honestly don’t give a shit about any of those people. I don’t care about your parties and lavish lifestyle. I have a man that loves me, who is now my husband. We may not be rich with money, but we are rich in our love for each other. That’s what matters. I’m sorry that I turned out to be such a disappointment to you both. You know what? No, I’m not sorry because I am happy.” She squeezes my hand tighter. “We are happy. If the only reason you two came here today was to try to tear me or us down, then please leave and go back to Connecticut. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. God forbid your plastic surgery gets messed up. I know how much more important to you that is than your own fucking daughter. You two can just go to hell!”

Their silence is deafening. Neither corrects her to say that they are here to see their only daughter marry the love of her life, that they want to see us happy. That for the first time in our lives, they think of someone other than themselves, but they remain quiet.

Brynn huffs and turns away without even a goodbye. I shove my hands in my pockets and give them a weak smile before I spin and chase after her. A soft smile was the last thing they deserved, but it was better than waving my middle finger at them, disrupting our wedding reception. When I catch up with Brynn, I wrap my arms around her.

“Oh my God,” she heaves. “Did that really happen? Did I just tell them off in the middle of our wedding reception?”

I kiss her temple before spinning her around to face me. “Well, it wasn’t in the middle of the reception, but yeah.” She closes her eyes and takes a few deep inhales to steady her breathing. “Baby, I am so fucking proud of you. I wanted to grab the microphone from the DJ and just yell, ‘That’s my wife! That’s my best friend! Go, best friend!’”

“Really?”

“Really. It felt good to tell them off, didn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck yes.” Her face lights up. She becomes all giddy, bouncing from side to side a little. “I can’t believe I’ve waited all these years to do that.”

I tug on her hand and pull her against my chest. “Is it weird to say that watching you do that turned me the fuck on? Like seriously, can we just dip out now so I can go fuck my wife?”

“Say it again.”

I lean down and pepper kisses along the column of her neck. “Can we dip out now?”

“No, not that,” she breathes.

“Oh, the part where you’re my wife,Mrs. Murphy.”

“That’s the one, Mr. Murphy.” She loops her hands around my neck, and my hands settle on her waist just above her ass. “I love you so much.”

“Words don’t even cover how much I love you.” I smile against her lips before capturing hers with mine. I deepen the kiss, gliding my tongue against hers. When we pull apart, I rest my forehead against hers. This woman is my everything. She might call me her knight in shining armor, but she is my sun, moon, and stars—my world revolves around her.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ begins, “please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Callum Murphy to the center of the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife.”

I lead her out on the dance floor as the music begins to play through the speakers. We start to sway side to side to “Never Stop” by SafetySuit. The first time I heard this song, I felt the lyrics in my soul and had asked Brynn if we could forgo the slow dance and hop on that trend of fast dances. Luck was on my side because it turns out they made a wedding version of this song, and that’s what became our first dance.

I’m one lucky son of a bitch to have this woman in my arms now and forever. I’ll never stop loving her—always have and always will.

It’s wild to think about the journey we all have gone through over the past few years. Those four kids brought together in college—now all married. I glance over Brynn’s shoulder at our friends as they interact with each other, doting over their kids. The light in their eyes and smiles on their faces is how parents should look at their kids.

I want that. I want a family that we love unconditionally, just like Brynn has taught me over the years.

The thought of her belly swollen with my baby has my dick twitching in my suit pants.

The world disappears around us as I look down at my bride.

“What’s got you smiling, Mr. Murphy?”

“Just remembering what got us here, Mrs. Murphy.” I will never get sick of hearing that name come from my lips. Who would have thought that one wedding and one pinky promise would have led us to this very moment?

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