The kiss picks up in pace, soft and gentle morphing into deep and determined. It’s our past and our present and our future. It’s the flutter of anticipation in my stomach, and the heat swimming in my veins. It’s every exchanged promise, every loud declaration, every hard earned moment of our love. It’s him and me. Julian and Deacon. “Husbands,” he murmurs against my lips. Smiling, I echo, “Husbands.”
