“And that’s the best Not Safe For Kids version I can give you,” I tell Emma on the other end of the Skype call. She’s got her cheek in her hand, and her eyes are wide with shock.

“Well, as much as I hate to think of my brother being an erotic beast of pleasure, I can’t help but be happy for you.” She winks at me. “You needed this release. I’m so glad you took this trip.”

“Thank you guys for babysitting. It wouldn’t have been possible without you.” Seriously, my other sister-in law Lily’s too, well, Lily to care for children, and I hate the idea of Sage and Sawyer lapping up their grandmother’s “you shouldn’t vote” ideas for a full five days. “Where are the kids?”

“They should be right around here with Fraser.” Emma beams. “They love him so much. He’s wonderful with them.”

Speak of the semi-British devil. Fraser and the kids walk into the background. Well, actually Sawyer’s dancing in front of him, twirling on her new pointe shoes. “Uncle Fraser, can you clear the floor? I need to try pirouetting,” she says.

“I’m a bit busy,” Fraser grumbles, partly because grumbling is his natural state and partly because Sebastian’s got his arms locked around the poor man’s neck. My little boy merrily giggles and kicks his feet against Fraser’s back. Meanwhile, Sage—yep, still wearing her space helmet, oh well—is hanging onto Fraser’s legs and being dragged around on the ground. From the muffled, high-pitched squeals, it sounds like she’s enjoying herself. “Look, I’ll buy you each a pony. Or a jet pack. Whatever you want, just let go!” he snaps.

Emma doesn’t react to any of this. She waits for them all to pass through into the kitchen, still smiling. “See? He’s the happiest.” Then, just like that, the smile vanishes and she squeezes her eyes shut. “Ugh. Hold on, demon leaving my body.” She bends over, and I can hear her deep breathing. Oh, shit.

“Em? You okay?” I’m a bit relieved when she pops back into view, looking better.

“Yeah. I made Frito and chili casserole last night. The kids love it, you know.”

“And Fraser?”

“He loves me enough to try. Anyway, I’ve made that recipe a dozen times, but I think I overdid it on the shredded cheese. My stomach’s been weird all day.” Just as she finishes her sentence, there’s a clanging, metallic sound. It sounds like every pot and pan we own in the kitchen has come crashing to the floor at the same time. Above it all, I hear Fraser’s very manly scream. Emma doesn’t even blink. “Okay. First, I gotta take an antacid, then I have to save Fraser’s life. Being married is a gas.” She blows a kiss. “Have fun banging my brother!”

“You!” I giggle and log off the call, then stand and stretch. Justin’s out at the gym—he said he needed to run off the energy of our last two, well, three bouts of great sex. Two in bed, one in the shower. I have never been this wonderfully sore, or this deliriously happy. It’s a feeling I could get used to.

The sun’s beginning to set on the horizon, which means it’ll be time for dinner in a couple of hours. And not just any dinner. Justin surprised me with the reservations: a table for two right alongside the water, at the fanciest five star restaurant on the island. I unzip my suitcase and look over the options I brought to wear. Quite a few nice options, if I may say, but…I don’t know, there’s something too beachy about them. And even though we’re eating right by the beach, it feels too casual.

Dinner by the ocean in Hawaii was always one of those pipe dreams Justin and I had in college. Just us, some fresh oysters, maybe some killer calamari, and then maybe banging in the surf right after dinner. You know. Romance.

Well, that dream is not a pipe any longer. Ceci n’est pas une pipe. Though I’m pretty sure that was surrealist art, not an actual statement. Eh, who cares? I’m having the best sex of my life, and that’s all that matters.

I now just need the best dress of my life. Hmm.

Let it never be said this place doesn’t have many nice boutique shops on the promenade. I walk into one that’s brightly lit, with racks of beautiful dresses and smiling shopgirls with flowers in their hair. It’s paradise at mid-range prices. Perfection.

“I’m looking for something special to wear. It’s my honeymoon,” I tell the girl, Maiya, who comes over to help me. Jeez, I should stop acting so proud of that fact. But I’ve never been the subtlest of people, and that’s okay.

“I think we’ve got some good options for you.” Maiya beams as she helps me sort through the dresses based on price, cut, and color. Before too long, we’ve got it narrowed down to three items. One’s cerulean blue, which accentuates the girls to maximum advantage but is too tight around the waist. One is a creamy, pearly white, which is gorgeous but maybe a bit too high in price.

The third, the red dress with the falling-off sleeves and the slit up the leg, is something I wouldn’t have dreamed wearing after I had Sage. But in my new, confident, sexily sexed-up state, it’s the only option.

We were meant to find each other, this dress and I. Kind of like a fantasy quest, only in Lord of the Rings Frodo didn’t go to a trunk sale and finally discover the waistcoat that would fully match the color of his eyes. Though I would’ve liked to have seen that in the movie. No one ever talks about fashion in high fantasy.

Okay, back to earth.

We ring up the order, and a few minutes later I’m back in the room doing my hair and makeup. The red dress, and the pair of strappy, heeled sandals I got to complete said dress, are waiting for me on the bed. As the sun starts going down in earnest, I slip in and zip up the newest purchase, turning for myself in the mirror. I turn a few too many times, and nearly get dizzy and fall over. Well, at least I didn’t make that mistake. Well, I made that mistake only once. We’re fine.

I grab my clutch purse. Justin isn’t coming back to the room; we agreed to get ready separately and meet each other at the restaurant. Sort of making a grand entrance that way. Candlelight, good wine, some Macadamia nut encrusted halibut, and the perfect man I married. It’s going to be a great night for love.

And sex. Had to add that one, too.