He opens his arms once again, taking a step forward, and of course, I don’t hesitate in closing the distance between us, wrapping my arms around his neck. Our lips collide in a kiss that would otherwise bring me to my knees if he wasn’t holding me so tight. His tongue glides against mine so soft yet so demanding, eliciting a soft moan from me, and when I rake my fingers through the lengths of his hair, pulling at the longer curls, he sighs heavily into our heated exchange, his hands moving down and gripping my hips through my dress.

“O-kay.” I forcefully pull myself away, almost gasping for breath. “That’s enough for now.”

Harley stumbles forward, refusing to let me go, but I keep him at arm’s length, flashing him a warning glance, which he answers with an eye-roll.

“So, what do we do now?” he asks, trying so hard to remain inconspicuous while adjusting himself in his pants, failing miserably.

I stifle my laughter, taking his hands in mine. “Now? We go back inside and we enjoy some of my delicious wedding cake, and then we—” I stop when I notice his face scrunch up.

“Ugh, no thanks. I’ll pass.”

I blink at him. “Ex-cuse me?”

“Are you forgetting something, Murph?” He shoots me a wry glance. “Last time I ate your cake I literally shit my pants … I had to leave my undies in the trash can in the men’s room at Pane E Vino, and they had my name on them. I can never go back there!”

“You write your name on your undies?”

He deadpans and I can’t help but burst into laughter.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” He launches at me again, grabbing at my sides where I’m most ticklish.

“Okay, okay!” I squeal, pushing him away. “Truce!” Holding his hands up in surrender, Harley laughs and my cheeks burn. “Can we please never speak of that night again?” I bury my face in my hands. “I still cannot believe I even did that!”

“Aww, c’mon now, Murph.” Harley pulls my hands away from my face, kissing my flushed cheek before leading me back toward the party. “I’m never gonna stop with that story. It’ll be brought up on holidays, birthdays. Family dinners. Our kids’ graduations. On our—”

I stop dead in my tracks, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Kids, huh?”

He realizes what he’s said and I spot a tinge of pink tinting his cheeks, his eyes widening before he quickly shakes his head with a dismissive scoff. “Murph, you’re drunk! C’mon, baby. Let’s get you some water before you say something else utterly ridiculous.”

The way he calls me baby does unimaginable things to my insides, and I giggle as he ushers me in through the doors. And, once inside, I turn to Harley, wrapping my arms around his neck as we sway to the music playing throughout the party, but almost instinctively, my eyes find Nash over his shoulder standing across the way, watching us with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.