“That might be my favorite thing you’ve said to me so far tonight.” He finds the snaps down there. “I just need to tell you one more thing with words, and then I’m going to tell you everything I have ever wanted to say to you with my mouth and my tongue and my fingers and my cock.”
“Go on…”
He massages my hips and kisses the inside of my thigh and then says, “I need you to know that I might not always be in a good mood, and sometimes it might seem like I’m more focused on work than anything else. But I will always, always love you more than anything. Okay?”
“Okay. I get you now, Declan. I get you.” I interlace my fingers with his.
“Also, I didn’t mean it when I said I wouldn’t write you a letter of recommendation about your fake girlfriend skills. You were top-notch.”
“Well, thank you, but that’s the kind of thing you can go ahead and tell me with your mouth and your tongue and your fingers and your cock.”
I can feel that mouth smiling against my skin.
“Yes, ma’am. You’re the boss of me.”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
* * *
Declan had a lot to say to me with his mouth and tongue and fingers and cock last night. I let him relieve himself of his Catholic guilt all over me, again and again, and forgave him for his very minor sins, again and again. And I smacked him on the butt just once, for Bex and Piper.
We managed to get about five hours of sleep. I was able to buy a pair of stockings from the hotel gift shop and borrow a cardigan from Casey. So, for the wedding I look like a very tired but satisfied high-class prostitute who doesn’t want to catch a cold. Declan looks so handsome in his tux; I burst into tears as soon as I saw him. I no longer feel conflicted about whether or not to kiss or slap his gorgeous face when he gets me all riled up. I will always, always kiss him. But I will also always say whatever I have to, to put him in his place.
I already have three meetings scheduled with possible future employers for next week, and according to the recruiter, they are all very eager to hire me and willing to get very competitive with their offers. I will take my time finding the happiest, most polite attorney at the company with the most relaxed work culture possible. Because I only need one moody lawyer in my life, and Declan and I are both going to get serious about that work-life balance thing.
He asked me to move in with him while we were eating breakfast in bed this morning. One step at a time, I told him. I need to get settled at a new job and see how we are together as a couple first. But I already know how we are together, and I love it. I just don’t want to break Mrs. Pavlovsky’s heart again by moving out too soon. Maybe at the end of February, so Declan and I can take her out for Valentine’s Day dinner or something to soften the blow.
The wedding ceremony at the church was long and lovely. The reception and New Year’s Eve party is at a different hotel ballroom—all sparkly with black and gold decorations—and we’ve been dancing for about an hour now. It’s getting close to midnight. My date disappeared a couple of minutes ago and left me here on the dance floor with his cousins Nolan and Billy. I honestly don’t know if I believe what he told me about them—they’re so sweet and polite.
The Motown song segues to “Come and Get Your Love,” and I look around for Declan because I need to make fun of him immediately. As I’m craning my neck, I spot him. In that beautiful tux, his dress shirt unbuttoned, bowtie undone and hanging casually around his neck. The crowd between us parts to make way for him because he’s doing that ridiculous Star-Lord dance, headed my way. Same as he did that time in the hotel room, except he’s not naked. Nolan and Billy do the dance too, moving away from me.
Declan spins around with his arms in the air, and when he reaches me, he drops to one knee. It takes me a few seconds to realize what’s happening, because people have formed a big dancing circle around us, and I’m really into this song. But when he reaches into his jacket pocket and holds up a diamond ring, I nearly burst into tears again.
“Maddie Cooper…I want to live with you. I want to marry you. I want to make babies with you. I want to grow old with you. I want you to bury me and cry over my grave, and then I want to fall in love with you all over again in heaven. Or hell. We’ll see how good I am at atoning for my sins.”
“Wow. That is the most Catholic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“I just spent an hour at a Catholic wedding. What’d you expect? Also, I want to go to Ireland and Italy with you.”
“Anything else?”
“Everything, Cooper. Literally, everything else. Will you marry me?”
“Yes. Yes, Declan Sullivan Cannavale, I am going to marry the crap out of you.”
I hold my left hand out so he can slide the ring onto my finger. It’s a little loose, but it’s antique and stunning. Everyone around us, including the bride and groom, are cheering and applauding, and then they go back to dancing to give us some privacy. He stands up to kiss my hand. “Nonna let me borrow her engagement ring until we find the perfect one for you in New York.”
I look around for Nonna, who is sitting at a table at the edge of the dance floor. She’s frowning at me, but she gives me a thumbs-up. I blow her a kiss, and then I kiss Declan. The song fades out, and somewhere Declan’s parents are doing the countdown to midnight into a microphone, but we just keep on kissing into next year.
It’s the perfect way to celebrate our new beginning together—as a real couple, drunk in love. Partners who can take turns bossing each other around in and out of the bedroom. I’ll be sure to add a clause in our marriage contract that ensures he’ll dance naked for me at least once a month for the rest of his life.
Gold confetti is being dumped on us, and people are singing “Auld Lang Syne” by the time we finally pull away long enough to take a breath and say to each other, “Happy New Year, future wife.”
“Happy New Year, future husband.”
And then we kiss again, forauld lang syne.
Whatever that means.