Punk Rock-A-Bye Baby(9)
He took another swig of champagne from the nearly-empty bottle and resumed his exclamations into the night sky. “I love Tommy and Jessi Blade, and we’re getting married!”
Tommy laughed and took the bottle from Angel. “I think you had a little too much champagne.”
Jessi grabbed the bottle. “He’s just having fun.” She tipped it back to her lips and finished it. “I love Tommy Blade and Angel Garcia, and we’re getting married!” she yelled from the balcony.
Tommy shook his head and laughed. “You’re just as bad as he is.”
“It’s fun! Where’s the other bottle of champagne?” She retrieved it from the bedroom and handed it to Angel to open. This time the cork dislodged with a short twist, and a soft plume of smoke rose from the mouth of the bottle. Jessi took another gulp and handed it to Tommy. “It’s your turn.”
Tommy took a short sip. “My turn for what?”
“Your turn to tell everyone how much you love us.”
“I just did. In bed.”
“No. Not us. We know you love us.” Jessi motioned to the ocean behind the house. “Tell the world.”
Tommy’s shoulders slumped, and he resigned to her coaxing. He took another gulp of champagne and leaned over the railing. “I love Jessi Blade and Angel Garcia, and we’re gonna have a kick ass wedding!”
“Shut the hell up before I call the cops! It’s 3:00 in the morning!” someone yelled back.
“Great.” Tommy laughed. “I’m gonna get us all arrested.”
“I don’t care. We’re celebrating.” Angel said. “We’re going to have a beautiful wedding and Jessi is going to be a gorgeous bride. Are you going to design and construct your own wedding gown?”
“I didn’t think that far ahead, but I like the idea.” She was quiet for a few seconds, lost in thought, and Angel imagined her fabricating designs in her head.
“Do you have any suggestions or preference on where you want to get married?” he asked.
“I love this house, and the ocean is a beautiful backdrop. Why don’t we get married right here in our backyard?”
“I love it.” Tommy turned to Angel. “Is that okay with you?”
It was a wonderful suggestion. This house was where their relationship blossomed and grew. “It’s perfect.” Now they just needed to set a date. “How quickly do you think we can put together a wedding?”
“I’d fly to Vegas right now,” Tommy said, “but I think we should wait for Jimmy and Audra to get back from Bora Bora.”
Chapter Two
Angel pushed Tommy against the wall and pressed a kiss onto his mouth. Without the constraints of his usual painfully-tight jeans or leather pants, Angel’s erection freely filled the loose-fitting slacks.
“Are you two at it again?” Damien asked, while he struggled to button the cuffs on his shirt.
“I can’t help it,” Angel spoke against Tommy’s lips. “I’m not used to seeing Tommy in a tuxedo. I can barely keep from ripping it off of him.”
“Save it for the honeymoon. Isn’t it bad luck to see the groom before the wedding, or some shit like that?”
“You mean the bride,” Tommy answered. “That’s why we’re holed up in the downstairs guest room and the girls took over the master bedroom.”
Damien squirmed uncomfortably in his tuxedo. “I can’t believe you got me to wear this monkey suit twice.”
Jimmy, tanned from two weeks on the French Polynesian Island of Bora Bora, slugged Damien in the arm. “We can’t all get married wearing a leather jacket. You’re the only one who can pull that off. But you look damn good in that tux, man.” He squatted down to Mason’s level and adjusted his little tuxedo jacket. “Isn’t that right, Mase? Doesn’t Uncle Damien look good in his tuxedo?”
Mason studied Damien, and then nodded really fast. He pushed his fingers through his hair and pulled it up toward the ceiling. “Do mine like Uncle Damien.”
“You want a mohawk?” Jimmy’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “Not today, buddy.”
Mason pouted and folded his arms across his chest, clearly disappointed.
There was a brief knock before Angel’s mom entered the room. She quickly shut the door behind her, silencing the flurry of voices that trickled in from the rest of the house. “Everyone looks so handsome!” she exclaimed, with her hand to her chest.
Angel was surprised at his mother’s entrance into the room. “Mamá, what are you doing in here? We’re getting dressed.”
She was as poised and elegant as ever. Her peach-colored gown was striking against her olive skin, and her dark hair fell in soft waves just past her shoulders. “Is that any way to greet your mother?” She offered her cheek, which he promptly kissed. It was as smooth as silk. “You are my son, and this is a splendid occasion. I needed to greet you upon my arrival and extend you my very best wishes.”