Good Love (Sequel to Chance Meeting)

Nine

"Do we wanna know whatcha said to her before ya tore outta here?"

        Aerin wasn't surprised to look up from her feet, her new husband escorting her back to their reception after she'd Calmed down a bit, to see all the concerned looks. She'd have prolly be concerned about herself, too, if she'd been one of the outside parties that watched her tear outta the restaurant like the Hounds of Hell were on her heels. Knowing they'd to've seen the older bassist chase after her was prolly just as concerning to them, even now that they were back.

        "Not fit for lil ears," she answered Bret, who'd been the one to ask. "Whyddaya think I said it in Italian since I was being quite the potty mouth?"

        "Prolly better for ya to just translate it later, then," Rikki told her. "And if ya can't before we all leave, then just tell Bobby so he can text it to us or something."

        "I think we'd all rather the kiddos not pick up any filthy language, if we can help it," the drummer's wife agreed.

        "As if they won't, just 'cuz of who their daddies are," she giggled as she reclaimed her seat. "And that's assuming they haven't already, and just don't use it in front of said daddies."

        All of their friends started laughing along with them, glad to see she was in at least a somewhat better mood now. Then again, with the woman that was upsetting her having been escorted out a side door and told to leave, or she'd find herself in a holding cell, no one was surprised by that. Whether she was actually the bride's mother or not, she'd no business crashing their reception, and certainly not by translating something the couple'd obviously wanted to keep private. If there was anything besides her having upset said bride, that was what'd ticked off all the guys more than anything.

        Once everyone was done with their linguine, Bobby told them that he'd decided on something special as dessert. He hadn't wanted to go with just any wedding cake, but rather one he knew his wife loved, based on the way she talked about it. That made her shoot him a suspicious look as he gestured to the few folks serving them, her eyes widening in surprise once they started bringing it out.

        She couldn't deny being all too familiar with what her mother'd called the Better than Sex cake for Years, well enough to know it on sight. If it wasn't the crumbled toffee bits sprinkled on top that gave it away, it was how the devil's food base looked like it could fall apart at any second. Memories of the cake in question told her that that was due to the Chocolate and caramel syrup that was poured over it and allowed to soak in through holes poked in the top.

        Bobby couldn't help a laugh as she seemed to practically slide outta her chair, her eyes rolling back like she was remembering the pleasure of one of their dirty Nights together. He'd admit to being quite the chocoholic sometimes these Days, but even he wasn't too sure he'd like this particular cake. Then again, he'd wanted to make this Day as special as possible for her, and he saw no better way than to have this made as their wedding cake. And after the way Kat'd barged in and upset her to the point of crying out in the parking lot, he definitely thought she could use some serious Comfort food, so this definitely seemed like a good idea now.

        "Bret, ya might wanna go check your sugar and have a dose of your insulin ready," the bride giggled.

        "Oh, God–do I even wanna know how bad that thing is?" Bret chuckled as he watched them move to cut it.

        "This is quite literally a diabetic's worst nightmare on a plate," she laughed, letting her new husband cover her hand on the knife handle with his own.