37. Grant

Next year

We celebrate Christmas and the new year in Tokyo, like we planned, indulging in fish and noodles, singing karaoke, checking out teahouses and temples. We spend time with Cyndi and Tyler, as well as Tyler's son, his wife, and their daughter.

We don't even miss Declan's dad's wedding because he never proposed to Tricia.

Can't say I'm surprised. Given what Declan's told me about his father's romantic history, as well as how he met Tricia, I wasn't expecting much to come of Jon's plans.

But I am glad that my fiancé is managing his father just fine. Jon Steele is coming to our wedding next month, after all.

We didn't want to wait. Plain and simple. On the flight home from Hawaii, I asked Declan when he wanted to get hitched.

"Tomorrow?" he'd said.

And he was serious.

Mostly.

But a Vegas wedding isn't for us. We both want family and friends around us. We picked February so we can tie the knot before baseball season.

In early January, as we wander along the streets of Shibuya, the shortstop—my shortstop—squeezes my hand. "How does this ring thing work?" Declan asks, lifting my hand to show off the engagement ring he gave me, which looks just like a dude's wedding band.

"Huh. That's a good point. Since we have them already."

"Do we get another band for the wedding? That seems weird."

"I bet there's a website somewhere with the answer."

Declan sweeps out his free hand, like he's lighting up a marquee, his voice booming like a carnival barker. "Get your gay wedding questions answered here. Step right up."

Then he downshifts to a more studious tone, humming thoughtfully. "Do we have two best men? Like Holden and River? Best women, like Reese and Emma? Also, who gives who away?"

I rattle off my answers. "Same rings. What if we just have friends of the grooms in the wedding party? And how about we walk down the aisle together?"

He stops in front of a pachinko parlor, yanks me against him, and drops a kiss to my lips. "Brains and beauty. Sold."

A month later, in a simple ceremony at an art gallery in the marina, that's what we do, walking in, side by side.

Our friends flank us as the justice of the peace reads the vows: Reese, Holden, River, Crosby, Chance, and Owen, as well as Declan's buddies from New York—Emma, Fitz, and Dean.

My grandparents are here, along with Cyndi and Tyler, and Declan's father too. Other Cougars and Dragons fill out the guest list—Sullivan, Miguel, Gunnar, and Dante, as well as my college friends Tia and Layla.

There's no liquor served, and Cyndi promised to keep an eye on Declan's dad to make sure he doesn't cause trouble.

But I'm not thinking of anyone but the man I'm marrying.

The justice of the peace asks me, "Do you, Grant Blackwood, take this man to be your husband? Do you promise to love and cherish him in sickness and health, for as long as you both shall live?"

Easiest question ever."I do," I say, looking into the soulful brown eyes of the man I adore. He looks back at me with love, passion, and vulnerability. That's my guy.

She turns to Declan next. "And do you, Declan Steele, take this man to be your husband? Do you promise to love and cherish him in sickness and health, for as long as you both shall live?"

Declan grins at me like he's won not just the husband lottery, but the life lottery too. "I do."

"You may kiss your groom."

We do, locking lips in front of all our friends, our family, and our teammates. It's our first kiss as husbands, and somehow, it's even better than that time in a car on the side of the road years ago.

Later that night, at the reception at a nearby restaurant, the deejay plays Pearl Jam like I requested, and I stride up to my husband. "Want to dance to something your speed?"

With a laugh, Declan takes my hand, and we slow dance. His arms loop around my waist, and mine move around his neck. "Now, this I can move to," he says.

"See? I know you."

"You sure do."

We slow dance to a few more tunes, and when a Lady Gaga number kicks on, he heads to the bar for a glass of water while I stay on the floor with Reese, Holden, River, and Owen. As I shake my hips, I wink at my husband, mouthing, told you I'd dance for you.

Declan smiles and shoots me a sexy-as-hell look.

At the end of the night, his father walks over to me and extends a hand. "Thank you, Grant," Jon says. "You've made my son very happy."

"He makes me very happy," I say.

Jon leaves soon after. He didn't make a scene. He didn't cause trouble. Sometimes that's all you can ask.

As the wedding winds down, I snap a selfie of the two grooms looking sharp in our suits. "We look good, Deck."

"Post it on my socials, rookie."

I kiss his cheek and take his phone, posting the shot on both our feeds.

When my husband and I go home that night—we'll have our honeymoon in November in our new home in Hawaii—I take him to our bedroom and strip him naked. His tailored suit lands in a pile of expensive fabric on the chair in our room.

Declan does the same to my clothes.

We crash into each other, kissing and touching. But before we lose ourselves completely in our favorite activity, I clasp Declan's face and say the thing I've always wanted to tell this man: "You're my first and my last."

"Yes, I am," he says with a satisfied grin.

I'd say I've won the life lottery too.