“Allow me to make you something special to celebrate your wedding.” “Oh, that’s not necessa—” “That’s great, Luis. Thank you. Don’t mind my bride. She loves to argue.” Jaxon winks at me. “It’s her love language.” Luis returns with two glass goblets filled with blue slush. The empty bottle of tequila on the counter is alarming, but before I can question it, Jaxon is closing my fingers around the stem, clinking his glass to mine. “To my beautiful wife.”
