I laughed coz when she went all Whoa Whoa Whoay on me, I thought I was gonna get another bollocking, but I didn’t, so I was gonna laugh.
“Ha, of course. Of course I know. I knew at your party, baby. It’s your party, baby, and you’ll cry...” I sing to her, coz I was a good singer, right? I was in a band and all that. Then I panicked.
“No, no, don’t cry. I’m sorory I made you do that cry. I am so srry.”
“I’m not crying, Marls. What the fuck you on about?”
“I dent... I. I dunno. Ash, baby, I think I might be a dit brunk. Drunk. A bit drunk.”
“Ya think, Rock Star?”
“Yeah, yeah. I think so.”
“And did you just say that you crapped yourself?”
“Yeah, yeah. I think I did.”
“What, like literally?”
“No. No, that would stink, you’d smell it if I did that. I like meant scared. When I ran away. I’m sry I did it but I was ... I was scared, baby.”
“A scared Rock Star, eh?”
“Tefferied.”
“You better come in then.”
And that’s the last thing I remembered about the night I convinced my wife to marry me.
We flew to Vegas the next day and never told a soul. We kept our secret wedding a secret for twenty-five years. So much of our life was public knowledge, so much of our time was spent dealing with my family that we kept that little piece of info just for ourselves, just for us. We threw a party for our Silver wedding anniversary and didn’t tell anyone what it was for until they got there. I thought my mum was gonna kill me, but it was George that landed the first blow, then Jim, but they forgave us and I’d like to say that from that point on, we all lived happily ever after, but some of us didn’t.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Present
I wake to the sensation of a weight being lifted from my chest and being replaced by a pair of warm thighs straddling me.
I open my eyes to see my wife looking down at me. “I was just dreaming about you.” I tell her with a smile.
“Yeah? Was it a hot dream?” she asks before leaning in and kissing me, her breath tasting of mint, coffee, and Ashley.
Sexiest breath ever.
“You was in it baby, of course it was hot.” She reaches behind her and slides her hands inside my boxers, giving my morning wood a tug.
“Hmmm. Well, if you would’ve come to bed last night, I could’ve dealt with this for you,” she says while giving me a delicious little stroke.
“You were out cold and I need to get this book read and make a decision.” That ends her attention to my dick.
“How’s it looking?” She turns back to face me and asks.
I slide my hand up her T-shirt and give her tits a squeeze.
“Not as good as these.” I tell her honestly. We’d had a massive argument about these after she had George and Cam’s twins.
Cam had paid for her to have a tummy tuck, which I wasn’t entirely happy about, but as she’d done something so life changing for them, I kept my mouth shut and went along with it. But then once that was done, she started going on about a boob job and there was no fucking way that was happening.
“Your tits fit my hands so fucking perfectly.”