So, that's how J.J. and I ended up cutting the wedding cake together and feeding each other a piece.
It was a piercingly sweet moment.
We finally left Crave around seven-thirty and the sun was drooping in the sky.
I sympathized because I was definitely drooping myself.
J.J. drove the car without speaking, letting me drowse in the passenger seat. Cam had come up with a pair of cheap flip flops that she'd left in her office a few months ago and insisted that I wear them home since my feet were still sore and swollen from my wedding shoes.
When J.J. turned down my driveway, I was suddenly very awake. It had been simmering in my head all day that tonight he was coming home with me and he was staying.
I'd changed the sheets on the bed in the guest room and cleaned out all the drawers in the dresser and the few boxes I had in the closet.
I didn't have a lot of stuff, mostly because I saved most of my money instead of buying things that might need to be stored. It was probably for the best since I now had a roommate of sorts.
"Um, the bedroom is cleaned out for you," I said. "And my brothers said they could come over and help you move things around if you want."
J.J. glanced at me, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I know. They mentioned it earlier at the reception."
I frowned. "You mean when they dragged you out to the alley to do whatever stupid thing they planned."
J.J. shook his head. "Nope. Nothing like that happened."
I shot him a disbelieving look, but he didn't say anything else.
"All the same, I'll probably ask Brody if I need help," he said, his tone dry.
I laughed a little. "That sounds wise. I think you've known my brothers long enough to know that they'd drop something on your foot because they thought it was funny."
He grinned and parked next to my car under the carport.
"You go in and put your feet up," he said. "I'll get the leftovers and the cake."
"I can help."
"You can help me figure out where I can put my stuff so it won't drive you insane this weekend."
I had to laugh because he was right on the money with that statement. I was particular about my environment, but I wanted him to feel like this was his house, too. It wasn't going to be easy to stop thinking of it as just mine.
"I promise I won't nag you about it," I said.
J.J. shrugged. "I haven't been here long enough to have a 'place' for stuff, so it won't be a big deal."
I faced him. "I meant what I said about moving my couch or the bed in your room out if you want to bring in your own mattress."
"I will if mine is more comfortable," he said. "I'm getting too old to sleep on uncomfortable beds."
"You're barely thirty-one," I pointed out.
"Forty's just around the corner," he replied.
I scoffed and opened the door, carrying my shoes and purse in one hand. I didn't want to admit it, but I was ready to go inside, change out of my dress, and take a long, hot bath.
I stopped short just inside the door to the screened porch. The only bathtub was in the guest bath, which would officially become J.J.'s bathroom now that he was my husband.
Indecision swept over me. I wouldn't want someone in what I considered my private space, but we'd also just gotten married.
M-A-R-R-I-E-D.
