Page 246 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
Chapter Forty-Four
HENRY
“Love, look at these.” I point out a tasteful cream and light blue invitation. “These are nice.” Kellan is strapped to me in his little baby backpack—there’s an actual term Rosie uses but I say baby backpack—and we’ve spent the afternoon marking things off our wedding to-do list.
We booked a venue. High Bar 55’s rooftop. It’s gorgeous with a scenic view of the city, multiple rooms to accommodate the ceremony, has cocktail hour,andthe best part is that the maximum number of guests is seventy-five people, which is absolutely perfect. We don’t want anything bigger than that.
When we were looking over the venue and I saw the white brick wall as the backdrop to our ceremony, the dreamy look in Rosie’s eyes told me this was the place we were going to get married.
After the whole penis fiasco a few weeks ago, I’ve been trying to cover up my junk as much as possible, because any small glance of my penis has Rosie breaking down in tears. When I talked to her mom about it—privately of course—she told me it was hormones and should pass. But in the meantime, I made sure to cover up as much as possible.
In the end, no circulation was cut off and he was fine. He has the perfect penis, just like his dad.And of course, I did not utter those words to Rosie. Because . . . the big guy is in hiding.
Rosie shuffles over, her small frame saddling up next to mine. She’s been struggling with her baby weight—honestly, she looks perfect to me—but the struggle has put us on a super vegetable-filled diet with lots of protein. Another thing that makes her mad? I’m more lean than ever. The other night, I carefully listened to her tell me how much men suck when it comes to losing weight and that from now on, she wanted me secretly eating donuts behind her back. I had one yesterday morning with Freddy in the break room. Figured I should listen to her.
“Light blue?” she crinkles her nose. “I don’t know. I was thinking more of shades of blush and cream.”
Girly colors.
Would I ever imagine having a wedding that’s sparkled in creams and blush hues? No, but then again, I never thought I’d marry Rosie, therefore, I’ll happily take the colors, because I get the bride, and nothing is better than that.
“Blush and cream, huh?”
“Yeah, you know, vintage. It would go with my dress.”
My brow lifts. “You got your dress?”
“I ordered it online from ModCloth. It was exactly what I wanted and didn’t cost me thousands of dollars.”
“Love, why didn’t you tell me? That’s really cool. You said yes to a dress?”
She tilts her head back and smirks. “Were you watching TV with Freddy when he was here the other weekend?”
I chuckle. “It’s not my fault he likes looking at wedding dresses. You can’t complain. Kellan didn’t have any issues and you were able to have girl time with Delaney picking out flowers.”
“True, but seriously . . .Say Yes to the Dress?”
I shrug. “It’s a good show.”
She stands on her toes and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I love you.”
And there she is, my girl, my sweet, cute girl. I get to see her on occasion when she’s not stressed with work and Kellan, or right before bed when she has this satisfied look on her face the minute her head hits the pillow. I know with time, she’ll eventually be back to her normal self but in the meantime, I’ll take these little moments. I’ve loved her for such a long time now, and even though my patience is stretched in fairly unexpected ways at time, it’s Rosie. She—and now Kellan—have made my life everything.
I rub Kellan’s tiny body through the baby backpack and head to what looks to be a vintage invitation section in the paper shop. “Did you look through these, love?” I glance over my shoulder to find Rosie shifting her boobs in her bra. “Is everything okay?” It's one of thosedumb man questions,but I'm guessing she's uncomfortable.
Quietly, she walks over to me and says, “Hand me the baby; my boobs are about to explode.”
Chuckling, I unlatch Kellan from the backpack and hand him over.
“I’m going to the car to feed him. Would you mind pulling some blush and cream vintage-looking invites for me to choose from?”
I press a sweet kiss across her lips. “Sure.”
With Rosie and Kellan in the car, I turn to the saleswoman and flash her a rakish smile, baby backpack dangling at my hips. I’m such a dad right now, and fuck, I couldn’t be happier about it. “So, do you think you could help a guy out?”
“Sure.” She smiles politely. “What are you looking for?”
“My girl is searching for a cream and blush vintage-style invite for our wedding, which is in a month and a half. Short notice I know, but we want to catch the warm weather of New York City. Rooftop wedding, you know.”
