“I love you too, Kennedi.” He kissed her, slow and sweet. “Now get some sleep. You did too much today.”
“It was worth it.”
“I know.” His arms tightened around her. “But tomorrow, you’re resting. No arguments.”
“Fine.”
“I mean it, Ken.”
“I said fine.” She smiled against his chest. “Bossy ass.”
“You love it.”
She did.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The reception waseverything Paige deserved.
String lights hung across the rooftop venue, the Nashville skyline glittering behind them. Tables draped in ivory and gold. A live band that had already played every Black wedding classic from “Before I Let Go” to “Always and Forever.” The food was immaculate—Paige had insisted on a full spread, and nobody was complaining.
“Whew,” she muttered as she made her way back to the table, easing into her chair and slipping her heels off under the tablecloth. Her feet were done. RJ had been sitting low all week, and every step felt like a negotiation.
She was fanning herself with a cocktail napkin when Rolani appeared and set a plate down in front of her.
Wedding cake. She’d been talking about this cake since Paige mentioned the champagne layers and raspberry filling three weeks ago.
She looked up at him. “How did you?—”
“You wouldn’t stop talking about the raspberry filling.” He sat down and loosened his tie. “I went and grabbed you a slice before the line got deep.”
She stared at him for a second.
“What?” he said.
“Nothing.” She picked up the fork. “You’re just—” She stopped, shook her head, and took a bite instead of finishing the sentence. She closed her eyes for a second as the flavors mixed. “You are so good to me.”
Rolani leaned back in his chair and said nothing, which meant he was pleased with himself.
“How you feeling, momma?” His hand found her leg and brought her foot into his lap, rubbing her feet.
“Tired. Full.” She glanced down at her stomach, where RJ had been stubbornly still all evening. “Betrayed by this child who was supposed to be here two days ago.”
“He’s comfortable, and nobody told y’all ratchet asses to be throwing a WHAM in a circle.”
“Don’t be a hater and rude.” She took another bite. “Dr. Khalifa said dancing helps.” She looked at him sideways. “We should dance.”
He looked back at her. “You just took your shoes off, and I know your dogs barking right now.”
She poked her lip out, but he wasn’t persuaded. “I can put them back on. One slow dance with my future husband should be fine.”
Her lip poking out was always going to do him in, and she knew it.
“One dance and you gon rest your feet. Spoiled ass.”
He grabbed her heels and slipped them back on her feet before helping her up. The DJ had shifted from upbeat music to “All My Life” by KC and Jojo, drawing all the couples onto the dance floor.
He pulled her in, and she turned, settling her back against his chest. His arms came around her, hands cradling the underside of her belly, lifting slightly. The relief was immediate, and she exhaled from the relief.
