We arrived at Rachelle's house in less than ten minutes. My cousin and best friend looked like she was about to give birth to triplets as she clumsily hugged me and waved us both inside. She waddled toward the couch as she rubbed her back. She wasn't due for three weeks, but I wouldn't have been surprised if she popped out her second baby during the next ten minutes. Her husband and childhood sweetheart must've been in the barn out back because I saw his truck when we pulled up. Their eighteen-month-old, Travis Jr., was napping in his playpen. Without introducing Christian, I jumped right into a quick explanation of what had transpired over the past several days, closing with why both of our faces were purplish, Christian's more so than mine.

"This is the bass hole?" she asked, her eyes going wide.

I couldn't contain my grin as I gave Christian a sideways glance and explained, "She's the only other human being who read the letter that was supposedly from you."

He nodded his understanding as I went into even more detail with my cousin. Less than fifteen minutes later her phone rang. "You're spot on," she told me as she made her way to the landline that was perched on the kitchen counter and looked at the caller ID.

"Hi, Aunt Ginny," she answered in her normally bubbly tone. "Uh huh, yep. Sure. Do you want to talk to her?"

I took the phone out of her hand and asked, "What's up, Mom?" I listened to her and followed up with a question. "The big one or small one?" I glanced over at my cousin and asked, "Mom wants to know if she can borrow your deep fryer. Theirs is broken. She wants to fry a turkey for dinner tonight."

Rachelle gave me a knowing smile, and said loud enough for my mother to hear through the phone, "Of course!"

"Yes, Mom. Yes. I'll call you when we're on our way home. Do you want us to stop and get a turkey?"

After I hung up, I looked at my cousin and laughed. "I called that one. I knew she'd be checking to see if I was really here. Notice how she called your landline on purpose?"

There was a knock at the door, and I insisted Rachelle sit down while I answered it.

"Right on time," I said as I swung the door open. Launching myself into his arms and giving him a tight hug, I said, "Thank you for coming, Grandpa."

"Technically, tonight is our real wedding night," Christian told me as he pulled me over the console of my SUV and covered my face with kisses. We were heading back to the house, turkey fryer in tow, and had pulled over before turning up our road. "Are you sure they can keep a secret?"

"Absolutely," I assured him. "My grandfather was thrilled that we were making it official. He's an old romantic at heart. And when he drops in later unexpectedly, he'll have on his poker face. They'll think he's seeing us for the first time. They won't have a clue he married us."

"It's a good thing he did," Christian admitted as he pulled back to look in my eyes. "If you hadn't called your grandfather on the way to Rachelle's I would've been tempted to do exactly what you suggested to your mother. Driven you right down to the nearest town with a courthouse."

"Then I guess it's a good thing we have a preacher in the family," I teased. I’d already explained to Christian that I was ready to ask him if we could wait until fall to get married instead of after graduation, when my mother’s final comment about my father not allowing it rubbed me the wrong way.

"I doubt we'll be able to sleep in the same room tonight.” His tone was serious, and I told him I agreed.

"You're coming back to Florida with me."

"I already told you I can't..."

"Yes, you can, Mimi. You have a few days before you have to be back at school and you can miss a couple days too. Drive back to Fort Lauderdale with me and you can fly back up and head directly to school."

I chewed on my lip as I pondered the feasibility.

"Look, baby. I love that you’re bold, and I love that you don't take any shit, but I'm insisting on this one. You need to come back to Florida with me. Just for a few days."

I started to see the situation from Christian's perspective. He'd watched me strut my stuff in front of our parents for the last several hours. Not backing down, going behind their backs and involving my grandfather in a clandestine wedding.

"Do you think I've somehow emasculated you by being so aggressive with everyone?"

He laughed. "No, Mimi. I don't feel emasculated because you're a strong and assertive woman. I'm proud of you for it. And last time I looked, my balls were still very much intact."

I gave him a sheepish grin.

"Honestly, they want to explode right now because I want you so damn much." He raised his hips and tugged at the crotch of his jeans. "And I want my wife with me for as long as possible," he said as he returned his butt to the car's leather seat.

I looked around to make sure that no cars were coming down the road. "Unzip your jeans." I was pretty certain I shocked him.

"Are you sure?" he asked me while simultaneously doing as I asked.

"Yeah, but hurry. If someone comes down this street and sees you in my car without me, they'll definitely stop and I don't want to get caught." Christian didn't need convincing as I leaned over and brought my mouth down on his hardness. It was awkward stretching over my console, but his release was quick.

I must've had a strange look on my face because he stopped mid-zip to ask, "Are you okay, Mimi? Are you gonna be sick? You didn't have to swallow it. You could’ve spit it out."

I knew he was alluding to my inexperience. This was the first time he came in my mouth. Actually, it was the first time anybody came in my mouth. The few times I’d engaged in oral sex with Lucas, he never leaked and always pulled out and came on my face. I guess it was his thing.

"I’m okay. I'm trying to figure out what it tastes like."

"It probably tastes like cum," he laughed.

"Yeah, whatever," I replied. "But there's an aftertaste that reminds me of something."

He was still laughing when he shifted the car into gear and made the left onto our graveled road.

We were talking about whether or not we should try to get his mother alone to ask her about the letter, when it occurred to me.

"Kiwi!" I shouted. "The aftertaste reminds me of kiwi. Not that kiwi tastes like semen," I clarified. "Kiwi has an aftertaste that reminds me of cum and vice versa. Is it just your cum or does all semen taste like that?"

He snorted and asked, "How would I know?" He smiled over at me, and then his face grew serious. "And so we’re clear, that is a question you'll never be able to answer."

I knew what he was implying, and I didn't care. I reached for his right hand and held it tightly. I was admiring his profile when I asked, "What are you thinking about?"

He gave me a dazzling smile. "I was just thinking how I'll be insisting you go on my personalized kiwi diet."