Simple but powerful words that Tarius had heard others repeat many times before. But not him.
Until now.
Branson’s emerald eyes sparkled as he took the card. “Tarius Higgs, you special, special man. Thank you for taking me as I am, loving me, and welcoming me into your heart. Your big, big heart. I promise to always love you, respect you, and be faithful to you.” His eyes held a special meaning with those final four words, as if being unfaithful was the most ludicrous thing on creation. “Today, I choose you to be my partner, and I commit to you for the rest of my life.”
The judge spoke briefly, and then it was time to exchange their rings and make their final vows. The familiar vows to wear each other’s ring as a symbol of their promises. Tarius couldn’t stop smiling as he slid the simple gold band onto Branson’s finger. It gleamed there, the perfect fit.
For all this had been a rushed marriage, everything about it felt right. Safe.
Inevitable.
Then they were kissing. And married. Tarius laughed out loud as he picked Branson up and spun him in a circle. Once he was back on his feet, Branson hugged him hard, and then he whispered, “Thank you for going on this adventure with me.”
“I wouldn’t have done it for anyone else,” Tarius whispered back. “I love you.”
“Love you back.”
Their parents had apparently been patient long enough, and the embrace increased by four as more hugs and congratulations went around. He proudly accepted a long hug from Ronin, a man Tarius had respected immensely for years, and who had always respected Tarius in return. More than once, Ronin had told Tarius that if he was interested in law school, in pursuing being a practicing lawyer, Ronin would sponsor him.
Tarius always took the compliment and insisted he loved his job. And he did. He didn’t want to be out front arguing the cases;he enjoyed working behind the scenes, an important cog in a well-oiled machine.
Liam opened a bottle of champagne and poured it into plastic flutes. Tarius glanced at Ronin, who nodded permission; a small glass of champagne wasn’t going to impede his performance when he returned to work. Ronin had said he could take the afternoon off, but Branson had to work anyway. This was the simple celebration they both wanted. Maybe, one day in the future, they’d plan a large party for their extended family and friends, but Branson had admitted he didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to host a big wedding reception right now. Tarius more than understood and agreed.
But Bransonhadpromised he had a special “honeymoon” planned for them later at home. Tarius couldn’t wait to see what hishusbandhad up his sleeve.
And he did, at seven o’clock that evening, when Tarius finally trudged into their apartment. He’d gotten stuck in traffic less than two miles from his freeway exit, because of a four-car collision, and it took over thirty minutes for the lanes to clear enough for traffic to pass. Three lanes into one always took forever, but he finally made it to his exit, and into Brans—no, their neighborhood.
Tarius was still getting used to calling this neighborhood his again.
The apartment was dim, only the living room lamp on, and the kitchen was illuminated by half-a-dozen lit candles, some on the counter, and a large one on the kitchen table. Branson stood by the table in a pair of workout pants and a green t-shirt that set off his eyes. The scent of something sweet and spicy made Tarius’s stomach grumble with hunger.
“Welcome home, husband,” Branson said.
“I could get used to this sort of welcome.” Tarius put his coat and briefcase down on the couch, then walked into the kitchen.Greeted his new husband with a hug and kiss. “Dinner smells amazing.”
“Good. It’s semi-homemade.”
“Semi?” Tarius didn’t see food on the counter or table, so it must be in the oven.
“Yes, it’s this cooking show that’s been airing on public television for about a year, and the host recently put out a cookbook. I picked it up a few days ago, because now that I’m going to have a family, I shouldn’t rely so much on takeout and frozen meals.”
Tarius grinned. “I love your initiative. So, I take it these meals are homemade but with shortcuts?”
“Exactly.” Branson grabbed two potholders, and then he pulled a bubbling baking dish from the oven. Placed it onto a trivet on the table. “It’s a beef and noodle casserole with veggies.”
His mouth began to water. “That smells like heaven.”
“Hopefully, it tastes good. I followed the directions exactly, but I’m not much of a cook.”
“You made it, so it will be amazing.”
Tarius dropped another kiss onto Branson’s mouth. Then he opened a bottle of wine while Branson scooped them each a serving. Tarius’s taste buds exploded with the flavors of beef, onion, and carrot, and he actually moaned. It reminded him of a casserole Omegin had cooked when Tarius was young, similar in flavor and texture, but this was so much better.
Because my husband made it.
Tarius smiled as he ate, complimented the chef frequently, and enjoyed the wine pairing with the beef dish. So. Good. Simple and perfect, like today’s ceremony and vows had been simple and perfect. Their life wouldn’t be this simple and perfect for much longer, so Tarius basked it in while he had it.
After the meal, Branson insisted on clearing the table and putting the leftovers away, while Tarius rested and enjoyed a second glass of wine. Branson poured himself more wine, then took Tarius’s hand and led him toward the bedroom. Tarius’s pulse jumped, more from curiosity than anxiety.
