12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Keyshaun

"Next is bootie bumps," I shouted over the thumping sounds of MC Hammer to the sweaty group of aerobic walkers who had packed into our far too small private room. Well, not so private as there were glass walls but away from the grunts and pants of people lifting weights or working on their boxing moves. Etta stood on the other side of the glass, tapping her smartwatch in full yoga regalia. "We'll go to bumps in four, three, two, and one."

The class followed me into some kickbacks, then we progressed into some high-speed kicks, and I eased them into the start of the cooldown sequence. Ten senior yogis were now standing with my sister, mats in hand, but since I didn't want anyone to cramp, I refused to speed up the cooldown or stretch. Ten minutes later, I dismissed the twenty sweaty aerobic walkers. My sister walked into the room, her bright yellow leggings, top, and hairband looking amazing with her complexion.

"You look good in yellow," I said while wiping the perspiration from my face.

"Don't try to sweet talk me," Etta fired back with a soft shoulder knock to my bicep. "We really need to expand. Sharing this one room is not working."

"I know, but my head is tied up in Buffalo right now." I gave the seniors a wave as they unrolled their mats in their preferred spots. Woe to those who took someone's favorite spot. The oldsters could get touchy about such things.

"Mm-hmm. Buffalo isn't the only thing that's got your mind tied up," Etta teased. A few of the older gals nearby tittered.

"Yes, well, I am head over heels for Tanner, that's true. Oh man, I have to get home and pack. Are you sure you can handle things for the long weekend?"

"I've been handling things here for weeks now. Go get a shower and pack. Tell Tanner that I expect him to show up at the Labor Day cookout at our place. And while you're gone, would you be down with me maybe calling in some contractors to see about adding on a few rooms for the growing clientele?"

I blew out a breath. She was right, totally, and I knew we were going to have to add on soon. It was more a matter of juggling the expense here with what we were about to dump into WW 2 in Buffalo. Then there was all the paperwork, permits, and other bureaucratic bullshit that would come with a simple addition. Still, it was going to have to happen. The membership roll was growing by leaps and bounds, and it was still summer. When the Gladiators that had left for the off-season returned in September—just next month—they would also add to the numbers along with their sig others. I was not complaining, I was just fretting as Mama would say.

"I assume that translates into you have already contacted some local contractors and were just waiting for me to leave town again to sneak them in and get some offers lined up?"

She drew back, right hand to her throat, and batted her long lashes. "Me? Why, Keyshaun, I am appalled that you would think me capable of such underhanded shenanigans."

Her Southern belle was perfection. I smiled and shook my head. "Right, as I thought. Fine, bring in a few and get some estimates, but we will all decide as a trio on which offer we take, okay?"

"Of course. Now, go shower, you stink. And tell Tanner we loved the little Gladiators hoodies he sent for the boys."

"Will do. Hey, keep Mama in line, and don't let Ornell forget to check into that fall festival that's coming in—"

"The fall. Yep, we're on it. Go, I need to align my chakras and then go pick up the twins from daycare. Shoo. Get. Enjoy the wedding."

She rose to her toes, pecked me on the cheek, and shoved me out the door. A few folks on stationary bikes were chuckling as I walked past. The members loved the playful back-and-forth between my family and me, which was good because I wasn't going to be anyone but Keyshaun Williams: successful businessman, loving uncle sibling and son, and boyfriend of Tanner LaBrie.

Williams Wellness towel around my neck, I made my way to the front desk where Mama and Uncle Devon were deep into a whispered conversation. When I cleared my throat, they both startled like Tanner's dogs the time we caught them blissfully scattering trash around his yard, unaware that the back door had even opened.

"Oh, Keyshaun!" Mama fanned her face. "You scared me."

Uncle Devon smiled sheepishly, his gaze flitting from one corner of the gym to the other. The sound of feet pounding treadmills mixed with the steady thumpa-thumpa-thumpa of someone working a weight bag in the far corner.

"Sorry, Mama. Did I interrupt something?" They both looked at each other. Mama launched into a rambling tale about the linen service bill, which I neatly delegated to Ornell since I was taking four days off, starting about six hours ago. It was hard to relearn how to disengage from the working man striving to make a name for himself. I'd get there. Someday. Me taking more time off for Liam and Tarcy's wedding was big for me, so I call that progress. Uncle Devon studied me as Mama went on and on about the towels not smelling the way they used to and if she should ask if they changed detergent.

"Did you want to speak to me, Uncle Devon?"

His eyes flared. "Oh, well, not right now. Maybe when you get back from Georgia?" He seemed sketchy to me. I was about to press when my phone buzzed. It was Tanner reminding me that our flight was leaving Elmira-Corning airport in two hours if I wished to be on it. I hit him back with a fast note saying I was leaving the gym now.

"Okay, when I get back then. That was my man. He's probably pacing. I have to go." I pecked Mama on her cheek, gave my uncle a nod, and raced out the door like my ass was on fire.

***

Stepping off the plane in Georgia in the middle of August, I felt as if my ass really was aflame. Along with the rest of me.

"Good Lord," I groaned as the heat and humidity of the Deep South slapped me in the face like a wet towel. "I will never complain about how hot it gets up north ever again."

Tanner gave my sweaty neck a squeeze and then led me to the rental car lot. Rudy, who had wilted into Wade the moment he exited the terminal at the Lee Gilmer Memorial Airport, was fanning himself with his straw hat. Seemed the rental agency was short-staffed—a notion I was familiar with—and therefore had no one to bring the car to us.

"I hope that it's cooler by the lake," Rudy groused while we searched for our car.

"I'm sure it will be," Wade cajoled as he pulled both suitcases along behind him. One was a small carry-on and the other a massive suitcase that had exceeded the weight limit and therefore cost extra to check. He never said a word, probably because he accepted Rudy's love of clothes—and the need to change for every outing—as part of the man he loved.

Tanner pushed the button on the fob. The lights flashed as the car beeped. He looked back at me shamefacedly. "Should have done that right off," he confessed. Rudy darted for the car, eager to get out of the sun and humidity. The sedan was spacious and cooled off quickly, something we were all happy about, especially after loading our luggage into the trunk. "Okay, so let me feed the directions in and we can be on our way."

"I can navigate if you want," I offered and got a nod from Tanner. "I'm good at telling you what to do and where to go."

"I know," he teased as he handed me his phone. "Can you do a quick peek at the dogs at the vet's office?"

"Sure." I knew he was feeling uneasy about boarding the dogs, especially old Bingley, but they were in good hands and if God forbid, something came up with the geriatric pug, he was right at the veterinarian's office. I pulled up the app, fed in the code, and had access to cameras in all the kennels. The dogs were all napping at the moment. When I showed him, some of the worry left his face. "Looks like everyone is comfy and cozy."

"They do look happy. Okay, let's find the hotel, check in, freshen up, and then meet the rest of the guests for dinner at the seafood restaurant," Tanner announced, looking at me. I bobbed my head, told him to go right, and off we rolled. Our hotel was a plush high-rise that was a mere five minutes from Lake Lanier and about thirty minutes from Tarcy's cabin. Check-in was a breeze, and our rooms were spacious, clean, and cool. The pool five floors down looked incredibly alluring.

"You think we could sneak in a swim when we get back from dinner?" I asked, closing the privacy drapes and turning to spy Tanner trimming his beard. "Oh honey, don't take too much off."

"If I don't do it, Rudy will. You heard him commenting about scruffy scruff as opposed to tailored scruff." He lowered the electric razor with a smile. "I won't take it all off. I might want to tickle your taint with it after our swim."

"You keep talking like that and we won't make dinner on time." He waggled a brow just as someone rapped on the door.

"That'll be Rudy." He tossed the razor to the bed, took my hand, and tugged me into his arms. "Midnight in the pool." His lips moved over mine with such delicacy and promise, that I had to step into the bathroom for a moment before I could leave the hotel.

When we arrived at Pete's Seafood Shanty, it was like old home week for the Gladiators. Most of the roster had shown up, including the coaching staff. Hand to God, it was like walking into Cheers for a loud shout of "Fossie!" met us as we entered. Four long tables were pushed together in a wonky sort of semi-circle triangle. The eatery was brightly lit with blue walls, soft oak tables, and various stuffed fish hung on the white walls.

"We saved you a seat at the end near the men's room, given your bad knee and advanced age," Carson said, trying for deadpan but failing miserably. "Not that I think you're old or that you're beyond playing well due to your age, far from it, I just—"

"I told him to say that," Greck chimed in as the team captain's boyfriend patted his humped back.

"Yeah, I kind of assumed you had a hand in it," Tanner said, walking to his seat with barely a limp now visible in his gait. He was dead set on playing as soon as he could, his fire for the game burning brightly since he'd missed such a pivotal moment. I suspected he wanted to be on the ice if—or when, according to Tanner—the Gladiators won the Calder again next season.

I shook hands on my way to sit beside Tanner. Most of the men I knew pretty well now, the coaching staff I'd met a few times, but they tended not to take part in chats online like the players did. And yeah, I'd been added to the Gladiators chat. An honor indeed. Tanner had said that made us official, which was okay with me. I was so gaga over the man I'd fly a plane over Seneca Lake with a banner flying behind it that read KEY LOVES TANNER so the whole town could see it, point, and ask who the hell Key was.

"Hey, man, good to see you again," Deandre said when I plopped down beside him. We shook hands. "What have you been up to?"

"Taking over the world," I fired back. He laughed, clapped my back, and poured some cold beer into a glass.

"So I read. A new place in Buffalo. I like seeing that, brother."

"It's exciting," I said, sat back, and took a sip. The brew was strong and yeasty, refreshing. The steady bubbling of a lobster tank a few feet away filtered in to the din of male voices, servers, and the clatter of dishware being bussed off dirty tables. "And exhausting and expensive. The three Es. So if you and your man are looking to invest in a Black and queer-owned business that will easily double your money in a few years…"

DJ rubbed his chin. "I just might be. We'll talk later for sure. Gabe is with the grooms and their families doing the whole rehearsal and dinner thing, but I'll mention it to him when he gets home."

"Oh, cool. I like that he's officiating." I smiled over my glass at Rudy, who was sipping on a mojito, much to the dismay of Wade. I hoped he only had one or he would be a wreck for the wedding tomorrow.

"Yeah, he was so honored when they asked."

I liked Gabe. And Criswell. And Marcus. And Henri. The Gladiators had good taste in men, not unlike me because I had the best man out there. Tanner's soft gaze caught mine. I slid my fingers through his and we sat that way until our food was served and two hands were required for eating. The night was a fun one, filled with loud laughter, brotherhood, and some of the longest stories from Phil Greco that I had ever heard. Get a few beers in Greck and his mouth ran twice as fast for twice as long. Still, he had the table in stitches for the entire evening. When the servers began to not-so-discreetly begin placing chairs on the tables around us, we took the hint, paid, tipped well, and exited. After saying goodbye in the parking lot, Wade, who had been the designated driver, slid behind the wheel. Rudy was a little giggly as he buckled himself in the front passenger seat. Tanner was Mr. Chill, the beer and good food lulling him into a soft, mellow place. We climbed into the back with long sighs and full bellies.

"That was the first beer I've had in months," he admitted as we made our way back to our hotel. "My belly is full of burps, lake trout, and hops."

I rubbed his tummy. He sighed just like Bingley when his stomach was getting scratched. All Tanner needed to do was kick his leg and drool. When we arrived at the hotel, we all went to our separate rooms, Wade and Rudy to do whatever they were doing, and Tanner and I to pull out our swim trunks.

The hotel pool was empty at midnight. We slipped into the water, the temperature a little warmer than I'd have liked, but it was refreshing just the same. Tanner and I did a few laps. Swimming was one of the best exercises for his healing knee. Our strokes were lazy, as were we, and when we completed two we lounged in the shallow end, smiling up at a hotel employee when she approached us to ask if wanted anything from the bar.

"Maybe just some lemon-lime soda?" Tanner asked as he reclined on the cement steps leading into three feet of crystal blue, highly chlorinated water. His beard was wet as was his hair and the curls on his chest were sodden. The water blurred any peeking further south. I nodded at the suggestion before swimming up to join him on the steps. We shared a short kiss, his hand coming to rest on my thigh. I drew in a deep breath, let it out through my nose, and looked skyward. There was a sliver of a moon in the sky, a few sleepy clouds floating past, and a hundred thousand stars. Tension seeped from me as we lay about, growing wrinkled and sipping cold soda.

"Penny for your thoughts," Tanner said.

I glanced over at him. "To be honest, I'm kind of just having a moment of utter brain clearance. Like when you meditate and you slip into that space that's not sleep, but not total awareness either."

"Hmm, I have trouble finding that place, to be honest. The only time I feel that light is right after we make love." I smiled and stole a wet kiss. He tasted of pool water.

"So you're saying I take you to heaven?" He bobbed his head. "Always nice to hear. You whisk me to the stars as well."

"I like to know that. I do my best. How do you feel about heading to our room to find the escalator to the nirvana?"

"And who is driving this spacecraft to the cosmos?" Not that I cared who topped, or even if we didn't fuck at all. His mouth was divine.

"We'll co-pilot."

That sounded amazing. We left the pool with towels around our waists, our wet feet making squeaky noises in blue hotel flip-flops that sounded loud and crude in the silent hallways. Like a couple of teenagers, we were doing our best to make the rudest sounds we could with our feet, giggling like fools until we slipped into our room. Then we shed our towels, the cheapo flip-flops, and our trunks to fall into bed. He shifted around under me, heaving me up and around until I caught on. With a heated huff, I slung my leg over his head, settling my tummy to his as his cock rested on my lips. His lips slid over my dick, the hot wet pull making me groan before I repaid the favor. We were on the cusp in no time.

His release was powerful, flooding my mouth and leaking out of the corners. My balls drew up a second later, his middle finger rubbing my ass, then pushing in just an inch. My prick pulsed. Tanner moaned around my shaft, using that finger inside me to tease several more spurts. Finally, when I resembled a bowl of ramen noodles, he withdrew his finger. I slithered off to the side, my bones rubbery, and laid at his side with spunk drying on my chin and cheeks.

"Houston, we have reached maximum orgasm," I panted. Tanner laughed, patted my heaving chest, and then rolled out of bed. I moved to my side, head resting in my hand, to watch him walk to the fridge. His ass was so round. So meaty. I had a newfound adoration for hockey player booty.

"I think my booster rocket has deflated," he quipped as he pulled two bottles of cold water from the refrigerator, his cock hanging limp along his thigh. "We might have to rely on your missile to get us home."

I gave my flaccid cock a shake. "Sorry, this rocket is not blasting us back to Earth anytime soon. Guess we're stuck out here among the stars."

He crawled back into bed, cracked open a bottle, and handed it to me. "I can't think of another person who I would want to spend the rest of my days in heaven with."

And people say hockey players are big, dumb brutes who do nothing but fight.

"I think I need a kiss," I whispered. He was more than happy to oblige.

***

Dressed in our wedding finery of suits and ties—Rudy was in a pretty red and yellow sundress with lacy leggings—we were following the directions to Tarcy's cabin.

"Are you sure this is the way?" Tanner asked for the tenth time as we crawled along a tree-lined road that had been going on for miles. Every so often a tasteful drive would appear, most with fancy gates with discreet mailboxes set into stonework walls.

"The map app says so," I replied for the tenth time, showing him the phone.

"Huh." Tanner seemed perplexed. "This don't look like the road to my cabin."

No, it did not. As we followed the map, making a turn off the oak-shaded road onto a driveway that crawled through thickly wooded yet landscaped property, we began to see why. Coming around a sharp bend, Tarcy's cabin appeared.

"Holy shit," Rudy gasped from the back seat. "That looks nothing like your cabin!"

"No kidding," Tanner said, blinking in shock at the mansion sprawled out in front of us. Lake Lanier was just visible behind a gazebo decorated with white and purple streamers and flowers. We rolled up behind a dark green SUV. A valet appeared at Tanner's door, smiling, wearing a dark blue vest with some logo stitched in gold.

"I demand valet parking the next time we come to your place," Rudy teased. Tanner sat stupefied, his eyes on the two-story tan and stone fa?ade that greeted guests. My man lowered his window. The valet grinned.

"Hello and welcome to the wedding of Tarcy Hayes and Liam Polkman. If you'd like to exit the car now, you can follow the other arrivals around back where there are tents set up near the horse stables or you can settle under the shade trees or take a left by the stables to spend some time at the small racecourse Tarcy and Liam have set up for their guests."

Tanner glanced at me. "He said a racecourse."

"You really need to step up your cabin game," I teased.

"I'm guessing being a world-famous stock car driver pays better than being a minor league hockey player," Tanner lamented.

Staring at the massive home, I could only agree. It obviously paid better than being a gym owner.

I opened my door and stepped out into the heat. Seemed everyone in front of us was doing so and I didn't want to not do as directed. With a grunt, Tanner followed suit. Within seconds, a smiling young woman appeared to lead us along a well-tended path, chatting away about the amenities awaiting us. She explained that swimming was allowed by the double-decker dock but only in the corded areas. People may visit the horses but not feed them or enter their pastures. Guests were welcome inside the home but were asked to remain on the first floor where they could find bathrooms, a game room, and a lounge overlooking the lake.

"This is insane," Wade mumbled when we cleared the western side of the mansion. I was not calling this multi-million dollar home a cabin. A cabin was what Tanner had up in Canada. This was not a woodsy little A-frame with porcupine chew marks. This was tasteful elegance for the jet set. Or I guess that would be race set.

We milled around for a while, sipping mimosas that were carried around on silver trays by what looked to be a hundred servers working for the catering service. We found Greck and Henri seated under a robust oak a few hundred feet from the gazebo. Henri fit right in with the upper crust feel with his cool summer suit and dark eyeglasses.

"Can you imagine this joint? I thought we'd be pulling up to a place with moose shit on the yard like your shack, Fossie," Greck stated as he nursed a cold beer. "I been looking and there ain't no piles of shit nowhere. Like, not even goose shit, and you know them goose are always shitting all over the place. One time I was out on Fire Island with my seventh cousin on my father's side, Lita Forde. Not the rocker Lita Ford obviously, but the hairdresser from Bedford Park. Actually, her real name is Conchita Forde, but she didn't feel as if that suited her so after a bad marriage to a dry cleaner over on Jerome Avenue who always scorched her mother's shirts, she changed her name to Lita but kept the last name of the bad dry cleaner. I told her when she did it that most people generally changed last names when they dumped a loser spouse, but she said she always wanted to be a Lita. So I was like, cool, you be you then. Right, so me and Lita was on Fire Island. She had found out through some experimentation that she liked gals as well as guys and was renting a tiny house with her girlfriend. Funny story, Lita and Monique got married so now Lita is Lita Forde Mahoski. Oh hey, Bean!"

"Was there a goose-related anecdote coming?" Wade asked.

"The world may never know," Tanner answered as the Gladiators captain arrived with his boyfriend. Small talk was made, and people-watching commenced.

The hockey players seemed to congregate around us, sipping sweet tea while pointing out famous race car drivers or equally famous goalies when Liam's uncles appeared dressed to the nines. A soft hush fell over the guests when a lovely young woman in a soft pink dress began moving through the small groups, directing them to the gazebo.

Tanner and I followed Deandre across the yard to sit a few rows back from the front on the hockey-playing groom's side. Each seat had a paper fan, purple, with the grooms' names and dates printed on them. I snapped mine open with all the flair of a drag queen and started fanning, much like every other soul here. I spied Liam's mother and father, brother, and uncles in the front row. There were two young women seated next to Bryn, holding hands, and whispering to Liam's lovely mother.

"You know who that is?" Tanner whispered in my ear when a tall lanky man in a soft gray suit carrying a guitar arrived.

"Not a clue."

"That's Prescott Doorman. He's one of the top five stock car drivers of all time. And one of a few that are openly queer. He's been retired for about ten years now and came out right after he stopped driving. I didn't know he was musically inclined."

The silver-haired man took a seat on a lone stool beside the gazebo, nodded at the assembled, and began playing some soft background tunes until all the seats were filled. Once people were seated, the music changed to something sweeter, a tune I wasn't familiar with but was melodious and fit the mood.

The guests quieted when Pastor Gabe arrived, stepping into the gazebo, his curls fluttering in the wind of the lake. He battled to keep the rainbow stole around his neck from slapping him in the face.

He smiled out at the guests, his hands clasping a black bible.

"Hello, friends and family. Welcome to the wedding of Liam and Tarcy." Several of the hockey players gave a woof-woof-woof that made everyone chuckle. "I see the holy spirit is alive and well in you all today. That's glorious to see for a wedding is a celebration of love and joy. The grooms have asked that I lead this short ceremony with a prayer and a reading that they have picked out. Those who wish may pray, those who do not wish may simply sit and watch my robes try to swallow me whole." We all laughed, then fell into respectful quiet as Gabe spoke.

"Blessed Jesus, you embody all the colors of the rainbow, your love spreads across the world to touch all, old, young, short, tall, those of all colors, queer and straight, heaven and earth, those who worship in your name, the names of others, as well as those who do not worship at any alter. May your divinity shine down upon us today as we celebrate love in your name for you inspire us to seek glory. Amen."

A soft reply floated up to be blown out over the water.

The guitarist played a lively song and a young boy, perhaps five, marched down the middle aisle, two golden rings on a small velvet pillow.

"That's Tarcy's grandson," Tanner whispered as the boy stomped to Pastor Gabe and then stood at his left. A pretty young woman then walked down the aisle, tossing purple flower petals this way and that, her gown lilac. "And that's Tarcy's daughter."

I gave Tanner's hand a squeeze in reply. The flower girl—woman—person gave her son a kiss on his cheek, which he wiped off to everyone's amusement. With a word from the man of the cloth, the racecar driver/musician began singing "And I Love Her" by the Beatles, only the pronouns had been changed to reflect the two men about to say their vows. It was a beautiful choice, I thought.

Gabe nodded off to the left and from the copse of thick trees, Liam stepped out followed by his younger brother, his best man. They were in dark suits with deep purple ties. Liam's mother, a few rows ahead, could be heard sniffling. From the right, Tarcy and his son emerged from a clump of tall maples, both also in dark gray suits with purple ties.

They met in front of Gabe, eyes glowing with love and excitement. When the song ended Pastor Gabe took the grooms' hands and joined them before looking out at the people gathered under the warm Georgia sun.

"The grooms have a short reading from Shelley for you that they have chosen for this most special day," the reverend said, his voice carrying clearly to even those in the back, I was sure. Guess holy men had to learn to speak out to make sure the word of God reached the last pew. When all eyes were on him, he began to read from a slip of paper stuffed into his bible.

"The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix forever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single,

All things by a law divine

In one another's being mingle—

Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven,

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdain'd its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth,

And the moonbeams kiss the sea—

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?"

Liam and Tarcy then faced each other. The ring bearer held up his pillow to Pastor Gabe who took it, smiled at the toe-headed lad, and then made a symbol of the cross over the thin bands of gold.

"If you two are ready?" Gabe asked. The grooms both nodded, eyes only for each other now. "Then please recite your vows."

Tarcy went first. "I, Tarcy, take you, Liam, to be my spouse and these things I promise you: I shall be faithful to you and honest with you. I shall trust, help, respect, and care for you. I shall share my life with you. Through the best and the worst of what is yet to come, and as long as we both shall live, this is my troth to you."

Liam, looking emotional, recited the same vows with only the names changed. Tanner's fingers tightened on mine. I glanced over to see him looking at me as if I were some fine artwork he'd found at the Louvre. I lifted his big, rough hand to my lips, kissed his scarred knuckles, and let my head drop to his shoulder as the rings were placed on shaking fingers.

"I now pronounce you partners for life. You can kiss any time," Gabe teased. Tarcy and Liam's kiss was soft, sweet, and perfect for the moment. The guests clapped as the grooms stared adoringly at each other. Pastor Gabe beamed and whispered to the besotted newlyweds to face the guests. They did but with pink cheeks. "I now have the privilege to present to you for the first time ever, Mr. and Mr. Liam and Tarcy Hayward."

The grooms' smiles were as bright as the Georgia sun as the guests rose and applauded. They walked down the aisle, nodding and grinning, only to be led away by the wedding planner to have the required ten thousand pictures taken.

"Liam and Tarcy have asked me to relay that there is a ferry running to one of the larger islands where the reception will be taking place, so if you'd all follow the men and women in purple shirts, we'll all meet up there!" Pastor Gabe called out to the guests.

We did as told, eager to get out of the sun. "Remind me never to complain about snow and ice this winter," I told Tanner as we made our way onto a large ferry decorated with white and purple streamers. The paddleboat pulled away from the dock with a slight lurch and splash of paddles hitting the water.

"I'm so very excited to hear that you're looking at winter and seeing me as part of it," he whispered, moving us to the front of the paddleboat. I turned to look at him with the cooler air off the lake touching the back of my sweaty neck. A shiver of pleasure ran down my spine.

"This winter and many others to follow," I confessed, leaning in to steal a kiss as we paddled toward a life filled with future snowfalls enjoyed together.