Page 145 of Third and Ten

“I’m sorry. I just felt sick all of a sudden. I probably should have put something in my stomach to settle my nerves,” I explain, figuring it’s best to just let him make a proper fuss over me. By now I’ve learned when he’s not going to take no for an answer.

Once he’s finally convinced that I’m not dying, he leads me out to the hallway with his arm around my waist.

Ethan frowns when he sees me, his eyes running over my messy hair and smeared makeup before they land on the red splotch I left on JD’s collar after trying to scrub off a lipstick stain earlier this morning.

“Ugh, you’re not seriously faking sick to do that,” he protests in mock disgust. JD backhands him playfully in the shoulder, and Ethan hisses and rubs his arm dramatically.

“Right, because we just couldn’t wait until we got home,” I add sarcastically, rolling my eyes. And then I glance at JD, and his smirk says that he’s thinking about how my lipstick ended up on his neck and got transferred to his collar in the first place.

“You forget I’m the one forced to wear noise-canceling earbuds to bed in my own house,” Ethan retorts, making JD’s smile stretch wider.

“What can I say, man? It’s like that now,” he admits, his eyes still glued to me as he leans down and places a warm kiss below my ear. And then I have to take a deep breath just to re-center myself.

“Gah, I can’t take you two anywhere!” Ethan throws his hands up in real exasperation this time, and JD and I snicker as we make our way into the courtroom. My mom joins us a minute later, just before Blake saunters in with his trademark confidence.

We gather around as he reminds us of the game plan. We’re going to offer visitation rights to Ryan but stand our ground on the domicile-custodian part. We’re also hoping to appeal to the judge by foregoing any child support and proving Ethan will have a male authority figure in the household.

Ryan struts in shortly after, nodding politely with his expensive suit and fake smile. His trophy wife follows closely behind, looking flawlessly polished and faintly bored. I try not to make any ugly faces behind their backs, mostly for Ethan’s sake, but it’s hard not to roll my eyes, at least.

They settle on the other side of the courtroom, and Ryan looks peeved when Ethan brushes him off.

The bailiff announces the judge’s entrance a few minutes later. Luckily, we’re first on the docket.

Blake and Ryan trade a few formalities, and the judge invites Ethan to join him in his chambers, along with his custodians and their lawyers. I figure that means JD will stay behind, but Blake motions for him to come along. He happily clasps my hand as we walk in together.

“Well, hello again, Ms. Robin,” the judge begins, eyeing JD instead of me.

“Actually, your honor,” Blake interrupts him. “It’s Mrs. Bourgeois now.”

I’m still getting used to that, but I certainly don’t mind the title.

The judge’s brow rises sharply. “Is it? Then I assume congratulations are in order to your brother,” he replies with a short chuckle.

“Thank you, your honor,” JD says, his thumb tracing a circle over the back of my hand.

The judge pauses and stares at both of us before continuing. “I could have sworn the two of you were only ‘family friends’ the last time we did this, which was only a few months ago, if my memory serves me. So either Mr. Bourgeois here works pretty fast, or you all have staged something and are trying to pull the wool over my eyes.”

I glance over and see a satisfied grin spread over Ryan’s face. Technically, that’s all true. Even though it took a few months to convince me to give him a shot, JD had managed to get me to the altar in record time.

And I stand by my statement that it was the best decision I’ve ever made. My mind drifts over the last few weeks: snuggling up to JD on the couch to watch a football game, laughing through dinner as he and Ethan tell stories about their day, arguing with both of them over what cereal to pick at the grocery store or which toppings to get on a pizza, and simply watching the two of them interact. I never would have believed I could make the transition from forced detachment to marital contentment so quickly and easily, but I already can’t imagine my life any other way.

And surely the honeymoon effect is still an influencing factor, but I seriously can’t get enough of my husband, in every sense. I don’t understand how or when it happened—all I know is I want to be around him all the time, I find him completely irresistible, and I love him more deeply than I ever thought possible. He’s become my favorite person, and I never have to doubt whether he feels the same about me.

As predicted, JD really does make for a fine husband and an amazing partner—barring his inability to properly dispose of his dirty socks and clean around the sink after trimming his beard or to control his flatulence for extended periods of time. Apparently, the “privileges of being a married man” include the God-given right to fart in his sleep. Unpleasant, sure—but not intolerable. And he more than makes up for it with the other privileges he exercises in our bed—

I mean…he’s just so good-natured that it’s hard to dwell on his flaws, especially since none of his shortcomings seem to affect his ability to make our little family feel so unconditionally loved.

Maybe shortcomings isn’t the right word. He definitely doesn’t have any of those.

I’m grinning to myself when Blake clears his throat. “I apologize, your honor, because that’s probably due to a misunderstanding on my part. I did say they weren’t romantically involved at the last hearing, but it turns out that JD and Tenley were just keeping their relationship private, for Ethan’s sake.”

Technically, he’s not lying.

“Hmm. And how long since this wedding?”

“A few weeks now, your honor,” JD replies.

“Then, you only got married after you found out Mr. Jameson was filing for custody?” The judge turns and glares at me, making my stomach roil again.

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