“Oh, you think Lady Kentwall is going to be happy when she finds out her only daughter got married at some roadside chapel by an Elvis impersonator? I think I’d rather put up with the bridezilla mother of the bride that we have now, thanks all the same,” I say as I put a hand on my hip to show I’m serious.

Felisha groans at me, and Flynn and Forrest aren’t game to enter into the argument.

“Okay, I suppose you’re right.” She throws a paper serviette at me.

“I always am, that’s why you love me.” I sit back into my seat, and Forrest squeezes me tight around the shoulder as I get comfortable snuggling into him.

Forrest’s deep voice close to my ear makes me shiver. “Well, I can tell you right now, that’s not one of the reasons I love you. Because thinking you are right all the time is damn annoying.”

“Says the man who argued with me this morning over how to stack the dishwasher.” I lay my hand down on his thigh and slowly run it up his leg, close to his groin.

“There is a fine art to that job, and it’s one you definitely have no idea about.” His voice is getting raspier, and I know he is being more affected by the minute by what I’m doing with my hand.

“I’m with my brother on this one…” Flynn starts in on describing the dos and don’ts of stacking a dishwasher as Forrest leans in close to my ear.

“If you don’t stop that right now, I’m going to lay you out on this table in front of the whole bar and fuck you… hard. My balls are at the limit of exploding and have been for days, so feel free to test out my threat.” The growl of a man about to lose control is the hottest thing ever.

We have been flirting like this for days, and it’s getting to the point that one of us is going to crack soon. But I know that Forrest made me a promise that he would wait for me to be ready, so if I want this to happen, it’s going to need to be me who breaks the wall down.

“Is that so. I happen to know a better table in a little more private setting, because sharing is so not my thing.” This time I run my hand over his cock that is so hard I can feel every single ripple of his skin through his pants.

“Sorry, we can’t stay. Harper just decided she would like to eat at home. You know, date night.” He stands and pulls me from my chair, sending it screeching backwards, making a noise that all the bar turns for a split second to look at us and then goes back to their own business.