“Very true.” Oz wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him for a thorough kiss.
“Congratulations!” The man Oz had been talking with waved at them as he was called over to a second security line that had just opened.
Cher sighed. “Why couldn’t they have moved us over?”
“Oh stop being so pissy. We’re almost to the front now.”
“I’m not being pissy. We’re going to miss our flight.”
“I didn’t realize I was marrying such a grouch.”
Cher rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t keep a small smile from her lips. “You just hush. And take off your shoes. We’re next.”
Oz grinned and took off his flip flops, tossing them into the first empty bin. “You know you love me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Move the line along, Oserkowski. We’ve got fifteen minutes to make our flight or we’re going to be late for our own wedding.”
They emptied their pockets and Cher put her bag on the conveyor belt. This time she’d made sure there were no unapproved items in it. She was taking no chances of getting stopped again.
Oz went through the metal detectors and started gathering their things on the other side. Cher took a deep breath and went through.
The machine beeped.
“What! But I’m not wearing anything metal. I even took my engagement ring off.”
“Please step this way, ma’am.”
“Oh, no. Not again.”
“Ma’am, this way.”
Cher looked to Oz for help but he was nearly prostrate with laughter.
She glowered at him and went through the second screening. When the security guard wanded her, Cher nodded over at Oz. “We’re on our way to our wedding.”
The guard laughed and turned to Oz. “Sorry. I’ll return her in just a moment.”
Oz just gave the guy a thumbs-up and stood back to watch. Traitor.
The guard waved the stupid wand thingy over Cher. It went off when it waved across her shirt.
“All the sequins must be setting it off. Are they metal backed?”
Cher looked down at the Here Comes the Bride shirt that Tyler had made for her. He’d bedazzled it himself. Oz’s matching Groom shirt was done in puffy paint. No metal-backed sequins for him.
“I guess so,” she said, shaking her head. What were the chances?
By the time they finally got cleared, they were down to five minutes.
“Come on, Debusshere, let’s haul ass!” Oz said, grabbing her hand to drag her along after him.
“These legs only go so fast, Oserkowski!” she said, panting in an effort to keep up with him.
They made it to the gate just as the doors were closing.
“Wait!” they shouted.
The attendant looked at the woman behind the counter. She glanced at their shirts, her expression softening.
“All right. The doors aren’t technically closed, yet. Let them through.”
Cher breathed a sigh of relief as they hurried through the doors and onto the plane. They slipped into their seats, looked at each other, and smiled.
Oz leaned over and kissed her, his hand cupping her cheek. “You have the absolute worst luck.”
Cher smiled at him, her heart overflowing with happiness. “Oh, I don’t know. I was pretty lucky the day I met you.”
“Now that I won’t argue. Of course, that was almost two years ago. Your luck might be wearing off.”
“Not a chance.” She threaded her fingers through his. “I love you, Nathaniel.”
“Oz.”
“Ox.”
“Nag.”
“Husband?”
Oz grinned. “Now that one I like. Wife.”
Cher laughed and leaned over to kiss him.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered to her.
“No,” she said back. “Just perfectly happy.”
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