Trashed (Stripped 2) - Page 80/80

Ruth smiles at me as she finishes fussing with Des’s dress. “I’m glad she found you, Adam.”

I just shake my head. “I’m the one who found her, actually,” I say with a grin.

Ruth rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “Arrogant ass.”

“You know it.”

Ruth is on the step of the carriage, hugging Des, and they’re both whispering, crying. I turn and Dawson is there, his dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s contractually obliged to keep it long for the role on the HBO original series he’s doing. It looks good on him. He grabs my hand and pulls me into an embrace, slapping my back.

“Congratulations, brother.” He pulls away and grins at me. “Married looks good on you.”

I laugh. “It’s been about four minutes, Dawson.”

He shrugs. “Best four minutes of your life, though, right?” He leans in and elbows me. “Or is that a different four minutes I’m thinking of?”

I shove him off. “Douche. You must be thinking of yourself.”

Grey is at Dawson’s side, listening to the exchange with an amused gleam in her eyes. “Hey, now. Don’t be knocking my man’s stamina like that. He can go for hours.”

Dawson stares at his wife. “Um. Okay then….thanks for that, hon.”

She shrugs and endeavors to look innocent. “Wasn’t four minutes last night, I can tell you that much. I’m still sore.”

“Grey. Jesus.” Dawson actually looks a little embarrassed, which is funny as fuck.

Des leans down from the carriage and grabs my arm and pulls me. “Come on, sexy. We’ve got a carriage ride to go on. You can measure dicks with Dawson later, after I’ve had enough of yours.”

And that’s my cue.

“All right then.” I walk over to hug my parents and kiss my sisters, and then I’m sitting beside my wife, my Destiny, my sweet and sexy Des, and we’re waving to our friends and family. We’ll see them a bit later for the reception at the Grand Hotel. For now, though, it’s just us.

After the crowd is behind us, the driver turns. “So. A tour or the hotel?” He asks with a knowing grin, having overheard the foregoing conversation.

“Actually, I was here three years ago and I was supposed to do a tour of the island, but I never went.”

“Oh no? What stopped you?” he asks.

“I met her,” I say, putting my arm around my wife.

He glances us. “Good reason, then. Well, you’ve got the right man for the job. My name is Dan, and I live here on the island year-round. I can probably tell you more about this place than anyone else, including some pretty freaky ghost stories, if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“Sounds good,” I say.

Des nuzzles into me as the horses lean into their harness and haul us up a hill. “Well, baby. We’re married.”

I kiss her neck. “You know, I’d never say this to Dawson, but he was right. The minutes since saying ‘I do’ have been the best of my life.”

She turns her head, and our lips meet. “Mine too.”

THE END