They Vetoed My Wedding 5 Times I Vetoed Them for Life novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Saturday or Never

Theo blocks her father from the envelope, and Delia goes home with him to the cottage at the end of the ferry dock for a night of grief and want. Lorna texts that the church is closed to her.

Theo stepped between us before Dad's hand reached my pocket.

He did not push anyone.

He just stood there, a head taller than my father, with his arms down at his sides.

"Not here, Walter," Grandma said from her plastic chair.

She did not raise her voice.

Dad's hand hung in the air a moment longer, and then he put it in his own pocket.

"We'll talk at home," he said. "All of us."

"I'm going to Theo's," I said.

He looked at me.

The doctor was still standing in the hall, pretending to read a chart.

"Then go to Theo's," Dad said. "Sleep on it. You'll see it differently by morning."

He turned and walked out through the sliding doors with Grandma on his arm.

Cal and Lorna followed him.

Neither of them looked back.

Theo drove me down to the harbor in his truck, and I held the envelope in both hands in my lap the whole way.

His cottage sits at the end of the ferry dock, so close to the water that you hear it under the floor.

I had spent a thousand nights there.

Not one of them had been in the Pruitt house, because Theo had one rule and had kept it for five years.

He would not sleep in my family's house.

He had never explained why, and I had never asked.

I stood in his kitchen with my coat still on.

"I should open it," I said. "She might have wanted to say something to me tonight."

"She said Saturday at six." Theo took the coat off my shoulders and hung it on the hook. "She had a reason."

"She's dead, Theo."

"I know."

"She was standing in front of the florist and she was fine, and then she was dead."

"I know, Dee."

I had been holding it in since the church.

It came out of me all at once, an ugly sound I did not know I could make.

He caught me before my knees went.

He held on to me in the middle of his kitchen and did not say a single thing, and that was exactly right.

When I could breathe again, I looked up at him.

His eyes were wet, and he didn't hide it.

He had loved her too.

She had ordered him a lemon cake every March for five years, on the day we got engaged.

I put my hand on his jaw, and the stubble was rough under my palm.

"Don't make me think tonight," I said. "Please."

He kissed me.

It was slow at first, careful, and I hated careful.

I grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him down harder, and he made a low sound against my mouth.

"Bedroom," he said.

"Here."

I pushed his sweater up his ribs, and he lifted his arms and let me pull it over his head.

His chest was warm and solid, and I pressed my face into it.

He undid my blouse one button at a time, watching my face, and I could not stand how patient he was.

"Faster."

"You're shaking."

"I'm not shaking because I'm cold."

His mouth went to my throat, and I tipped my head back against the cabinet.

He lifted me by the thighs and set me on the counter.

I got his belt open, and he stopped breathing for a second when my hand closed around him.

He was already hard, and he was heavy and hot in my palm.

"Delia."

"Now. I want you now."

He pulled my skirt up and dragged my underwear down my legs and tossed it somewhere behind him.

He put two fingers inside me, and I was already so wet that he groaned.

"God, look at you."

I rocked into his hand, and he found my clit with his thumb and circled it until I gripped his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.

"Theo, please."

He took his hand away and guided his cock to me, and he pushed in slowly, one long stroke, until I felt him all the way to the base.

I cried out.

He held still, his forehead against mine, shaking.

"Okay?"

"Move."

He moved.

He fucked me on the edge of his kitchen counter, hard and deep, with one hand under my hip to tilt me against him.

Every thrust pushed a sound out of me.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on, and for a few minutes there was nothing in the world but his body and mine.

"Dee," he said into my neck. "Dee, I've got you."

I came with his name in my mouth, clenching around him until my whole body locked.

He followed, thrusting once, twice, and then buried his face against my shoulder and shuddered.

We stayed like that, breathing, his arms around my back.

Then he carried me to the bed and laid me down and pulled the quilt over both of us.

I lay with my cheek on his chest and listened to the water under the floor.

"Saturday," I said.

"Saturday or never." His hand moved slowly down my hair. "You choose. I'll be there either way."

"Saturday."

"Then Saturday."

I was almost asleep when my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

It was Lorna.

"Dad called Pastor. He says St. Brendan's is closed to you until further notice. I'm so sorry. xo"

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