12. Chapter 12

"Having a husband is great," I tell Jacob. "I have someone to eat dinner with and watch TV with. We take showers together, which is just plain good for the planet, you know? All that water conservation. And I have someone to cuddle with anytime I want."

That might be my favorite part. All the cuddling. Or Teddy's chest. Or his thighs. Or, damn, am I really supposed to pick a favorite?

Oh! Teddy is my favorite. There. Solved.

Jacob looks at me a little strangely, standing in front of my desk with his project notes in hand. Granted, he didn't ask for an update on my life, but hey, he was updating me about his web design. Figured I'd return the favor. "Were you not doing those things before?" he asks.

Oh. Right. "I mean, Teddy and I are closer now since the wedding." True. "I feel like I know him better." Also true.

"Well, honestly, I'm happy for you, man. Are we going to meet him soon?"

"Yeah, maybe," I mutter, wondering how much longer I can keep putting that off. We're a pretty small company here. Everyone and their mother has asked about Teddy. "So, uh, you had a question about integrating the preexisting logo into your design?"

"Right," Jacob says, getting back to it. Twenty minutes later, he heads off to his desk, and my phone rings.

Vaughn. My day was going so well, too.

"Hello?" I answer, leaving my office and heading for the exit. It's close enough to lunchtime that I can take my break now, as well as this long-overdue phone call.

"Wow. He lives," my brother says.

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I—"

"We're coming to visit."

My blood runs cold. "What? Why?"

"Why do you think, dumbass? You got married without telling anyone. Mom and Dad are worried."

About me or my choices?

"That doesn't mean you need to come here," I say, well aware of the frantic edge to my voice.

"Too late. You weren't returning our calls. We're coming Friday."

Shit. Shit.

"I…I'm not even at my apartment anymore. I'm living with Teddy, and I don't feel comfortable giving you his address, so—"

"Fucking hell, Kipling. What, you need to ask his permission first? I guess that answers that question."

"What question?" I ask, my ears ringing.

"About who wears the pants in your relationship." He scoffs. "Tell me, do you bend over every time he snaps his—"

My brother's voice cuts off, and it takes me a second to realize why. Oh shit. I hung up on him.

His text comes swiftly.

Vaughn: Friday, princess. You better text your fucking address.

With a groan, I slump against the outside of the building. What a goddamn mess. Why are they even coming? I'm nearly thirty years old. It's not like they can tell me what to do anymore.

I pull up Teddy's number and call before I can second-guess myself. A voice that's definitely not his answers.

"Why, hello, Kipperoo."

"Alex?" I ask, checking my screen.

"In the metaphorical flesh," he says cheerfully. "What can I do for you? Teddy is currently indisp—hey." Alex's voice gets quieter. "I was talking. And damn, Teddy Bear, that towel is much too small for you."

"Kipp?" Teddy asks, his voice rumbling through my ear. "What's wrong?"

My shoulders drop, and I lean my head back against the building, feeling a little bit like I might cry. Ridiculous. "My parents are coming. And my brother."

"Today?"

"Friday. I don't know what to do," I admit.

"Do you want to see them?" he asks softly.

I shake my head. "I have to."

He doesn't ask why, and I'm grateful for it. How do I explain they're my family? I can't just…say no to them, can I?

"Do you want me with you?" Teddy asks, his voice breaking through my thoughts.

"Fuck, Teddy, I do, but…but I don't."

"Why do you?" he asks, his tone gentle and without judgment. I can hear Alex saying something quietly in the background, and Teddy mumbles a response before his voice is in my ear again. "Kipp?"

"Am I interrupting work?" I ask, pushing off from the wall. I walk behind the building, where a small sliver of green space sits.

"No, I'm done filming," Teddy answers. "I'm in the locker room now. So why do you want me there?"

Because… "You make me feel safe."

And shit, did I really just say that out loud?

Teddy hums. It sounds like approval, and suddenly, I don't feel so bad about my admission. "And why don't you want me there?" he asks.

"Because I don't want you to meet them. They're not nice people, Teddy. I don't want them to be not-nice to you."

He seems to mull that over. "But it's okay if they're not-nice to you?"

"This sounds like a trap."

He huffs a small sound that might be a laugh. "I'll be there with you."

My body deflates in an instant. "I don't want them at the apartment, though."

"Then you pick a place," he says. "And if we need to leave early, we will."

"Thank you," I whisper.

There's that hum again. "I've got you, sweetheart."

Fuck.

I clear my throat. "You're good at this husband thing, you know. Pretty sure I hit the jackpot when I locked you down."

"Pretty sure you're good at it, too," he counters.

"How do you figure? 'Cause I'm messy, can't cook nearly as well as you, I tend to hump you when you're trying to sleep—although, granted, I'm usually mostly asleep, too…sometimes—and I legit don't even know how to balance a checkbook? Actually, does anyone even own one of those anymore? The point is I'm pretty sure you pulled the short straw, my friend."

"Kipp," he says, warm laughter bleeding through his tone. "You called."

"Yeah," I say slowly. "I know I called…"

"No," he says, definite laughter in his voice now. It tempers, though, when he says, "You called me when you were upset. That means a lot."

"Oh," I whisper.

"Don't worry," he says softly. "You're nailing this husband thing, too."

God, this is complicated, isn't it?

"A bit," he says, making me realize I said that aloud. "Don't overthink, Kipp. I'm here if you need it. It doesn't have to mean more than that."

But it does. It means so much more.

"Are you wearing a towel?" I ask, desperate for a change of topic and belatedly remembering Alex's comment.

Teddy hums. "I am."

"A small towel."

"It's a normal-sized towel," he says.

"But you're not a normal-sized man. You're, like, a bear. Which, honestly? Go us queers. That's such a good description."

He huffs a laugh. "Kipp."

"I feel bad for twunks, though. Like, wouldn't minks be better? Muscle twinks? Instead of twink hunks?"

"Kipling…"

"I'm just saying there are better options. And don't even get me started on otters—"

"Sweetheart, are you supposed to be working right now?" Teddy asks, pulling out what I now recognize as his Daddy voice.

"Oh," I say, my entire body rolling in a shiver. "Right. Uh, lunch, actually. But, yeah, my time is running out."

"Go get something to eat," he says gently.

I snort. "Is this where you tell me to eat my greens or you'll redden my ass? I didn't think we were doing that whole do what I say or I'll punish you thing."

The sound Teddy makes can only be described as a purr. "Believe me, Kipp. My hand on your ass would be far from a punishment."

Oh?

I clear my throat and try again. "Oh?"

His chuckle is dark but his words soft. "Thank you for calling me."

"Tell Alex thanks for answering."

I swear he mutters, "Such a brat," but it sounds so fond I can't even be mad about it. "See you tonight, Kipp."

"Later, hubs."

When I end the call, I sigh. I actually freaking sigh.

I'm in such deep shit.

When I get home, my afternoon having been thankfully free of family-related disturbances, a grunt greets my ears. I perk immediately, seeking out Teddy like a homing missile. I find him on the weight bench, my shoes getting left behind me like detritus. My work bag follows.

"Daaamn," I say appreciatively, eyes sweeping over Teddy's form. He's doing bench presses, his tank top decently soaked with sweat. His legs are spread, thick thighs on display as his arm muscles pop. "Honey, I'm horny. Home. I'm home."

He snorts.

"Is that safe to do alone?" I ask, grabbing a chair from the island so I can watch.

He sets the barbell in its cradle before sitting upright and giving me his full attention. "I keep the weights low when I'm at home, so yes, it's safe."

I nod. "Uh-huh, uh-huh. So you don't need a spotter?"

His lips twitch. "You want to spot me?"

"I want to do something to you," I mutter as my eyes catch on a piece of paper on the countertop. "Hey, what's this?"

Teddy answers as I pick it up. "Marriage license. It just arrived."

Holy shit.

I skim through, reading aloud. "—join in lawful wedlock Theodore Maxwell Lavoie and Kipling Delaney…Lavoie?" I clear the squeak from my throat and try again. "Kipling Delaney Lavoie, né Mercer."

We're both quiet for a moment.

"I took your last name?" I finally ask.

"Seems so," Teddy says quietly.

My mouth opens and closes a few times. How drunk was I?

I have the briefest flash of memory. The back of the club. Teddy's hand in mine. The words, "I will keep you."

It flits away like smoke.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

I don't realize Teddy has moved until he's standing right in front of me, smelling like a decadent mix of man and sweet vanilla. "What for?"

"For…all this," I say, waving my hand at the marriage license but meaning everything. "For fucking up your life and stealing your name, and just—fuck. Dragging you into my mess."

"I thought we covered this already," he says calmly, his fingers in my hair pulling me around to face him. "You didn't drag me into anything. And you aren't fucking up my life."

"I'll get it changed," I whisper, unable to look away from those deep brown eyes. "I'll give you back your name."

"Kipp," he says softly, shaking his head. He opens his mouth but closes it again before letting me go. I try my best not to mourn the loss, but it feels a little like I'm a boat that's just been unmoored. "It's not a legal name change. You'd have to file paperwork with the Social Security Administration. You're okay."

"Oh," I say, wondering why the hell I'm so disappointed by that. "So I'm still a Mercer?"

There's a pause before he says, "Yes, you are."

"Okay. Well, there's that, at least," I mutter, blowing out a breath. "Guess the pictures weren't wrong, though, huh? We really did tie the knot."

"Guess so," Teddy says.

"Who, um…who's John Elvis?" I ask, pointing at our witness.

Teddy snorts. "I'm guessing we got married with an Elvis impersonator."

I groan. "I can't believe my memories of this are gone. If we ever get married again, we're recording the whole thing."

It only takes me a second to realize what I said.

"Not that we'd get married again," I hasten to add. "Or if we did, it wouldn't be at a Vegas chapel. It'd probably be somewhere understated but nice, like near the mountains at sunset. That'd be a pretty backdrop, you know? And holy shit, I swear I'm not planning our second wedding."

Teddy chuckles, which is good because otherwise I'd be very concerned about getting tossed out on my ass. The man is definitely a saint for putting up with me.

"You want an outdoor wedding?" he asks, his fingers tracing over the shell of my ear.

I swallow. "I haven't actually thought much about it." Lies.

He hums, his hand falling away. "Maybe next time."

What?

"What, Teddy?" I call after the man who's now halfway down the hall. "Teddy! You can't honestly tell me you'd marry me twice. You've met me. You know my red flags. Every single one of them." I pause to consider. "I think."

He chuckles loudly. A second later, the shower comes on.

Fuck.

Why the hell does my husband have to be so damn charming?

And why the hell don't I want him to stop?