Brooklyn Kinda Love - Episode 8

Bek slipped the last rose into its cut-crystal vase while Erin measured the aisle between the rosebushes with her toes. Late sun warmed the stones. They had decided on nothing showy—no arch, no canopy, just the yard and the people they loved. Bek glanced up. "We could put the cake table under the pear tree. The birds won’t care if crumbs fall." Erin smiled, crouched, marked the spot with a ribbon tied to a branch. "Perfect. And I want candles in mason jars along the fence, low enough that the kids can blow them out without burning themselves." Bek laughed, low and private, thinking of every night she had watched those same hands arrange tiny lights across their bed. "As long as you blow me later," she said. Erin’s cheeks flushed; she tugged Bek’s shirt and kissed her hard, quick, the kind of kiss that promised more once the lights were off. Across the lawn they heard laughter from the back patio—Vinny and Rhiannon sitting with their feet in the empty koi pond, talking about changing diapers and losing sleep and whether their kid would call them both Mama. Vinny traced a wet line up Rhiannon’s calf with one finger. "I still want to fuck you senseless the night before the due date," he murmured. Rhiannon tipped her head back, throat open to the fading light, and answered, "Only if you rub my swollen feet first." Their words drifted past the rosebushes where Bek and Erin stood close, hips touching, already tasting the night that would follow the vows.