‘You’re a tosser,’ I return as he shakes his head, slapping his manicured hand on my shoulder. ‘How long before we can expect the news of the pitter-patter of tiny feet?’
‘Kids? I’ve only been married five minutes.’ And living with her for twelve months. Living with her, sleeping with her, fucking her like it’s going out of fashion. And every month like clockwork, she gets her period. I don’t know who’s more disappointed; me or her. But we know these things take time. So in the meantime, we’re just keeping up our practice hours.
‘You did good, kid.’ Raff squeezes my shoulder and I let him have his big brother moment, despite there being only a couple of years between us. ‘Chastity is a keeper. You hit the porn peddling jackpot.’ He’s still laughing as he walks away.The wanker.
I’m a married man.Who’d believe it?I think, my eyes sliding to the vintage red London bus ambling along the road. Today has been perfect. Low key and low fuss, just as my bride intended.
We’d married at eleven this morning at Chelsea Registry Office on the Kings Road, much to the consternation of Chastity’s family. They wanted pomp and circumstance—a fucking cathedral wedding. But Chastity wanted none of that. Just a quiet day with a few friends.And family, if we must,she’d said. As there was no chance of hiding a wedding from my lot, or forgiveness after the fact, both sets of parents are here, along with my brothers, and Max and Camilla. But still, Chastity’s mother isn’t pleased. That the building we married in is beautiful—Victorian Greek revival—and that it was deemed good enough for James Joyce to marry in, didn’t seem to matter at all.
Honestly? I don’t give a fuck. I would’ve have married her stark bollock naked in the middle of Leicester Square, if that’s what she’d wanted.
The London bus pulls up outside of our favourite pub. Yep, we had our wedding breakfast in a pub. Roast beef and veggies, and enough champagne to sink a ship, and to add to the theme of low key, we didn’t hire wedding cars, we hired wedding busses.
I spot my bride as she steps down from the vintage vehicle, a tiny silver clutch and flower corsage in the place of a bouquet. She looks like a summer sprite as she jumps from the last step with a dainty swing of her dress. Knee length and almost silver, it covers all my favourite bits of her in lace, with the exception of her back, her creamy skin exposed by a deepV.
Paisley steps down from the bus next, passing a glass of champagne into Chastity’s hand as the pair laugh at something Mac’s little boy has said.
My wife. Mine. Every inch of that treasure belongs to me, and not because of the ring on her finger, but because we were meant to be.
She wanted a simple day with no fuss and a plain wedding band. And I gave her it all but took her choice of ring into my own hands. I was certain I did the right thing, though almost confessed to her in the bedroom this morning. For more reason than one, I’m happy we ended up fucking instead. Yes, fucking. Not making love, because even when we’re fucking, we are love. We’re not making it, we justarelove.
Not content to watch and compelled by the sight of her, I make my way out into the sunshine.
‘Mr Phillips.’ Her eyes are soft and warm as I bend to press my lips to hers.
‘Mrs Phillips,’ I return, shooting her a sly smirk and enjoying the colour rise in her cheeks. ‘Have I told you how beautiful you look today?’
‘Oh, not for at least ten minutes,’ she replies, smiling up at me.
‘Well, that’s what happens when you take the bus to escape.’
‘We weren’t escaping, Flynn,’ Sorcha interrupts, as she jumps from the steep step. ‘We were just taking the bus for a joy ride.’
‘And stopping for ice cream, it seems.’ At least, if the chocolaty stain on her pretty dress is any indication. I pretend to point at the stain on the smocked front of her dress, flicking her nose when she looks down.
‘Fl-ynn!’ she complains indignantly. ‘I’m too old for you to play silly tricks on me.’
‘When you get to double digits, then we’ll talk.’
‘What’s a summers day without a little indulgence?’ Paisley interjects, taking her step-daughter by the hand. She shoots us a sly wink over her shoulder as she walks away. Louis trails behind, using a tiny plastic scoop to scrape the remnants of watery ice-cream from the small tub in his hand. It mostly ends up on his little suit.
Man, kids are fucking ace.
‘Do you think she was suggesting we grab a little afternoon delight in the bus?’ As I turn back, I catch Chastity staring down at the diamond band. ‘I did okay?’ I ask hesitantly. ‘If you don’t like it—’
‘I love it,’ she says, placing her slender hand on my arm. ‘And I love the inscription.’Today. Tomorrow. Always.‘But I’m still not shagging you in the bus.’
‘Eh. It was worth a try. You might want to bear it in mind for work, though. A new take on taxi cam shots?’
‘Eww. Just no. That premise is so awful. You can’t afford the cab fare, so you screw the taxi driver instead? There’s nothing very erotic about that. It’s just sad and a little desperate.’
I slide my hand into my pockets, pulling out a handful of change. ‘So I’d better not ask what this would get me?’
Chastity sets off laughing, the flowers woven into her hair moving in the slight breeze.
‘Today has been everything,’ she whispers quite suddenly. ‘I wanted to give you something, too.’
‘So we are getting on the bus?’ I wiggle my brows expectantly as she passes the glass of warming bubbles into my hand.
