𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ᵈʸˡᵃⁿ ᵒ'ᵇʳⁱᵉⁿ [2]

1.2

THE RECEPTION
cake fights & backseat make outs

"Dance with me, wife!" Dylan shouted, setting down his beer and holding his hand out for Lavvie to take. She gladly accepted, smiling as he dragged her to the dance floor for their bodies to meet with a slow song. "Have I told you how fucking incredible you look?" Dylan asked, his hand falling to the small of her back as hers wrapped around his neck, holding him close.

"I'd say about fifteen times, but please, tell me again." She answered, toying with the ends of his already messed up hair.

Dylan grinned, eyes flickering to her lips for a moment. Then he said the words she'd said many times before, "kiss me."

Lavender giggled, allowing her lips to press against his. Their body's swayed together, mouths not daring to break apart as they smiled against each other. The soft melody of best years played from the speakers, the song only making the moment more perfect.

As the couple pulled apart, Dylan laughed, his attention going to his feet where a tiny Rory had wrapped herself around his leg. He easily lifted her into his arms, holding her at his side with his hand still holding his wife close.

"Let me guess, Uncle Ty had you?" Lavvie asked her daughter, wiping the purple frosting from her cheeks. Rory giggled, watching her mother smear the frosting right across Dylan's face.

"Really?" Dylan questioned, raising a brow with a devious smirk appearing on his face. He looked around, spotting the closest person to him, which happened to be Julia and handed his daughter over to her. Lavvie's eyes widened, realizing what was about to happen and she instantly kicked off her heels—ready to run.

Dylan bolted towards the cake, Lavvie running the opposite direction. She found her way outside, a few people crowded on the benches smoking and she waved to them. She ran towards the alter, glancing back to see Dylan chasing her with a hand full of cake. Their friends followed closely behind, cameras out, ready to catch the chaos.

"Come on, darling, it's only payback." Dylan laughed, slowing his tracks as he knew she was trapped. If she were to run any farther she would meet dirt and she refused to get her expensive gown dirty.

"Stay back." Lavvie told him, looking around for anything to defend herself with—a contagious smile not once leaving her face.

"Scared, Lav?" Dylan asked, enjoying every moment of this. She rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him quickly, then he leaped forward. She had no time to react before the cake was being smeared over her face.

"Ah! Fuck you!" She squealed as he lifted her off the ground, spinning her towards him.

"We're supposed to wait until after we leave for that." Dylan replied cockily, the mixture of alcohol and adrenaline making him more flirtatious than usual.

Lavvie blushed at his words, "well, I'll have to shower when we get to the hotel." She told him, a grin plastered across her face and Dylan grew more excited.

"I'm okay with that." He whispered, wiping some of the frosting from her cheek and licking it off his finger. "Now, baby, we've got some guests to attend to." Dylan took her hand, turning to see their friends taking a few pictures of the cake covered couple.

"Surprised you're still standing." Will joked, seeing that Lavvie hadn't tackled him the moment the cake hit her face.

Dylan grinned, glancing to his wife as she walked inside to try and clean of the cake. "Let's hope she doesn't notice the tiny bit that fell on the dress." Dylan responded in a hushed tone, actual fear hitting his voice.