Cherish & Blessed (24 page)

J
IM
AND
Griffin snuck away between champagne and grilled cheese, for just a few minutes. Griffin couldn’t stop smiling, and Jim felt like each time he looked over at him, he got another shot of adrenaline.

He’d never wanted to get married. Except for the moment when he realized he didn’t want to in the general sense but rather very specifically to this man, who was on his cell phone, happily telling his father he was getting married.

“Oh God, Dad, please don’t cry,” Griffin said frantically. He pulled the phone away, thrusting it toward Jim. “Tell him not to cry.”

“Hey, Richard, you’re not allowed to cry,” Jim recited as Griffin punched him in the arm. “Ow. Your son just hit me.”

“Tell him not to hit you, I won’t stand for that,” Richard Drake said wetly, about as threatening as Griffin—which was to say not at all, with his mussed hair and crooked glasses and nose red from the sun. “Welcome to the family, son,” he added. “Though I figured you were around for the long haul already—I’m glad to have it be official.”

Jim grinned, which made Griffin smile, and the whole circle of energy elevated again.

He wanted to get off the phone with his future father-in-law so he could ravage the hell out of Griffin.

That would have to wait, because the next call—after more tears and promises to have a celebration the following weekend with all the family—was to Mimi and Terry Oh.

Jim put them on speakerphone and let Griffin say the words, because Jim was getting drunk off the sheer delight every time Griffin said, “We’re getting married.”

No one told Mimi not to cry—if they’d bothered, Jim was sure she wouldn’t have listened. She wept and told them she loved them and they better give her time to lose more baby weight before the wedding because she was going to buy a kickass black dress and party like crazy.

Terry told Mimi she was beautiful just like she was and then asked if the wedding would be “here or there.”

“A wedding!” Griffin said, like it just dawned on him that a proposal led to an event. “Oh crap!”

“I’m pretty sure Daisy will be able to handle this,” Jim
murmured, tucking Griffin into his arms while Terry and Mimi thrilled to their news. Then there was texting, and soon Jim’s phone lit up with messages from Ben and Libby and Nick and Heather.

The Heterosexual Power Cabal was in the throes of joy. Their wish had finally come true. It didn’t even faze them when Jim gently broke the news that they were staying on the East Coast, at least for now, with lots of promises for frequent visits. So long as Jim was happy, they were on cloud nine.

By the time they hung up, Griffin was sprawled on top of him and Jim couldn’t resist pulling his clothes off.

“They’re celebrating downstairs without us,” Griffin murmured as Jim kissed his way across each revealed bit of skin.

“Then bless us for giving them joy—and distracting them so we can celebrate privately.”

T
HEY
DIDN
’
T
do it this way very often, but Griffin was tipsy and joyful and spread out on his stomach as Jim stroked and teased him, opening him up with fingers and tongue until Griffin wanted to cry.

He shook when Jim licked up his spine. He moaned when Jim pushed in, so big and strong and overpowering—and so gentle his heart rabbited in his chest.

“Oh, oh, ow,” Griffin laughed through gritted teeth, the stretch and burn an old memory pushing through his body.

Jim went a little slower and Griffin whimpered.

There was sex and then there was the nip and kiss against the back of Griffin’s neck. Jim’s breath blew warm on his skin, his hands locked around Griffin’s wrists, stretching him out on the bed.

He was everywhere—inside and out—and Griffin let himself sink into the mattress and just… be.

T
HEY
LAY
there for a long time, naked and quiet in the room. The breeze brought in the sounds of the ocean and laughter from the patio. No air-conditioning, just the open windows. Jim felt a sense of contentment he couldn’t even put into more words than “Griffin.”

“We’re getting married,” Griffin said, his lips brushing Jim’s heated skin.

“I heard.”

“Why did you ask?” Griffin looked up, his eyes dark and unfocused, his glasses long gone in the folds of the blankets.

“Because I hear the tax benefits are great,” Jim deadpanned, ruffling Griffin’s hair.

And then wiping his hand on the bedspread, because
God
, product.

“Did you ask because I was acting weird?” Griffin whispered.

“No. I asked because I love you,” Jim whispered back. “And because I want you to be happy, because that makes me happy.”

“And you’re not feeling, like… changed… by this?”

The urgency in Griffin’s voice made Jim tighten his arms. “This isn’t something I’m doing under protest, you know that, right? I made the decision all by myself.”

“Because we don’t have to—”

Jim laughed. Loudly. “Really? Okay, you call Mimi back and tell her that. Then be grateful you’re three thousand miles away.”

Griffin dropped his head against Jim’s chest and laughed.

“I love you. We’re getting married for that sole reason.”

“And tax benefits.”

“Right. And to make Mimi happy.”

“Exactly.”

“Because she wants to wear a sexy dress and dance at our wedding.”

Griffin’s voice slowly went back to that happy cadence. And Jim’s heart beat a jig.

B
REAKFAST
WAS
more food than four couples could possibly eat.

The kitchen island and table were full—eggs in four varieties, piles of toast (three kinds), pancakes, waffles, and three covered dishes of meat and potatoes.

And Matt in the center of it all, apron around his waist and a big smile on his face.

“To what do we owe this honor?” Daisy asked, wandering into the room with a dazed smile on her face.

“I assume everyone is slightly hungover, and we have to be at the church in, like, three hours. I figured this would help things along,” Matt said dryly. He gestured toward the station he’d set up: plates, napkins, silverware.

“Coffee?” Bennett whined as he came in behind her, a drooling and happy Sadie on his hip.

“Space Station Coffee Maker, ready to distribute the goodness.”

“I’m thinking of firing all our other help and just having you around,” he said, one-handing the coffee mug and stream like a pro.

“Sorry, he’s busy running my life.”

Matt looked up and spotted Evan, all sexy and serious in his lightweight gray suit and white shirt. Everyone else was still in their nightwear, but Evan clearly wanted to mess with Matt’s libido.

They exchanged kisses against the fridge, still frisky and handsy from last night. Pool frottage had given way to some fairly impressive fucking when they got into bed—followed by three hours’ sleep.

There was going to be some serious crashing at some point.

People were talking, but Matt only had eyes for Evan—who only had eyes for him. Matt didn’t break their locked gazes until Helena rudely hip-checked them away from the door.

She wanted orange juice and was in no mood to deal with their canoodling.

“Big talk for a girl with hickeys on the back of her neck,” Matt muttered.

The kitchen soon filled—even the happy couple wandered in. Jim looked smug, and Griffin, well.

Griffin might be limping, which Matt found privately hilarious. He resisted the urge to high-five his friend when he walked by to grab a plate.

“A
RE
WE
still making toasts?” Shane asked. He sounded entirely sober, but he was wearing sunglasses at the table and what Evan was fairly certain was Helena’s Gotham Girls Roller Derby hot pink T-shirt.

“Only if we’re toasting my amazing culinary skills,” Matt said around a mouthful of hash browns.

“To Matt’s exceptional ability to cook like this is prison,” Jim offered.

Everyone said, “Hear, hear.”

“To whomever made the coffee machine work,” Shane said.

“Still me.”

Evan laughed into his cup.

They toasted everyone at the table, including Miss Sadie, who was currently spitting oatmeal in Griffin’s adoring direction.

“Can we bring a thermos to the church?” Helena asked, her head on Shane’s shoulder.

“Buncha drunks,” Matt said loudly, but Evan noticed him taking two when Daisy went around with a giant bottle of aspirin.

T
HEY
TOOK
two limos to the church, a tiny steepled thing in town. The regular service was over, folks milling about on the sidewalk chatting as Sadie’s christening group stepped into their midst. No one blinked at the fancy rides or the fact that half the couples were men, and they were holding hands.

Daisy got a few gawks, but Matt figured that was because she looked ridiculously hot for a lady about to baptize a baby.

If he still bothered with women….

The reverend was named Potter, and he looked far too young to be conducting important God work, at least to Matt, who grew up in the proper church, with priests and nuns that all arrived at the parish looking ninety-five years old. He clasped Evan’s hand as they entered the cool wood-paneled interior of the church and wandered around as the rest of the group moved toward the small baptismal fountain near the altar.

“Nice,” Evan murmured next to him.

“Hmmm, yeah.” Matt didn’t have much use for churches or religion anymore. He and God had a need-to-know relationship basis at this point—Matt said thank you when it felt appropriate and asked for favors when he felt he couldn’t handle it on his own.

Right now he just felt peaceful.

He brought Evan over to the corner, where memorial candles were set up. Put a quarter in the box, light a candle for someone. He dug in his pocket without even thinking about it.

Evan beat him to it, dropping two quarters—
thunk
,
thunk
—into the metal container. Little lights flickered, but two unlit candles sat together on the top row.

They didn’t say anything but kept their hands clasped. Matt watched Evan’s profile as he dipped the lit match to the wick, watched it catch fire. He wondered what Evan was thinking or praying, and he thought he could probably figure it out.

Then he did his, Evan’s gaze warm against the side of his face.

He thought,
Thank you for saving him the first time. It sucks that you’re gone, but I’m so grateful to be here.

There was more he could probably say to her, but
thank you
felt entirely adequate for the depth of his feelings.

S
ADIE
NAPPED
through most of the ceremony, content in her mother’s arms and looking quite lovely in her flowing white gown, covered in lace. The little bonnet stuck to her wisps of auburn hair, her mouth puckered as if she were dreaming of dinner.

Griffin recited back the promises the reverend asked of him. He held Sadie when the reverend poured water over her forehead. He shushed and rocked her as she protested being woken up in such a rude way. When the prayers were over, Griffin dropped a kiss on his goddaughter’s nose, filled with happiness.

When he looked up, he caught Jim’s eye. He tried to analyze the expression on his fiancé’s face.