Father of the Bride

Going

"Jeepers! You look stunning, Amelia," Paris greeted as soon as Daryn entered the lobby. He was attired quite tastefully, all in Brooks Brother.

"Thanks." Daryn smiled, spun about, and did a graceful curtsey.

"Now exactly when and where did I learn to curtsey? " Daryn wondered.

"But you forgot something," Paris motioned Daryn to him.

Daryn leaned in close so Paris could remove whatever embarrassment clung to him.

Instead Paris kissed him deep and long on the lips.

Daryn gazed up into the younger man's perfect green eyes, so taken aback that his knees buckled and would have plopped him onto the carpet except that Paris' arms sustained him.

"I'm the luckiest chap in the world," Paris admitted, when they both came up for air.

"And I'm the..."

"Just what am I?" Daryn quizzed himself as he was led outside.

After that auspicious start it just got better.

"How's work?" was the incantation that opened the portals of Paris's vast and boundless world.

Seated in the back of the silver-gray Mercedes stretch limousine Paris rhapsodized endlessly about the world outside.

"Wow," Daryn thought.

Daryn discovered all he needed or wanted to utter was a hum or a haw whenever he sensed Paris had negotiated a crucial or critical passage.

"My goodness," Paris grinned, when the chauffeur opened the door. "Here we are already. Well, like they say, when you're in love time flies like an arrow–but fruit flies like a banana."

"What?"

"It's a joke, Love."

"Really," Daryn smiled sweetly.