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The things she wanted to do with Tansy, to Tansy, could fill a book. Several books, in fact. Encyclopedia Britannica volumes one through ten had nothing on Gemma’s imagination.
“I like you, okay?” “Okay?” Gemma laughed, quickly frowning when Tansy flinched. “I like you, too, Tansy.” She wasn’t exactly in the habit of bedding people she didn’t.
She didn’t have a lot of experience with breakups, but fuck if it didn’t feel like she’d just gone through one.
“I am serious as the heart attack that killed my father.”
“Am I good?” Mom huffed. “Well, let’s see. I found out my own daughter, my flesh and blood, the child I labored over for twenty-seven hours, is getting married thanks to the paper. So how do you think I am, Gemma?”
Why worry today about what she could put off till tomorrow?
Holy fuck. Gemma liked Tansy. Well, no shit. Obviously, she liked Tansy.
Tansy Adams should’ve sent her running for the fucking hills, and yet Gemma couldn’t seem to stay away.
This went beyond mere appreciation for Tansy’s finer—and holy goddamn hell were they fine—attributes and crossed into uncharted territory.
Gemma was just having a small epiphany. Or aneurysm. One of the two.
“Now, not that this impromptu visit wasn’t lovely, but if you don’t mind”—Gemma stood—“I’ve got work to do.” Namely, she had a fiancée to woo.
Her name had never sounded sweeter than it did when Tansy said it. Whispered, shouted—she didn’t care, as long as it was her name on Tansy’s lips.
Tansy’s smile was too compassionate for her own good. For Gemma’s good, too.
“Tansy.” Oh God help her, she sounded fond. “I meant, date me.”
“You’re my fiancée, for one. I can’t be your girlfriend and your fiancée.” “Says who?” “Says . . . I don’t know, people.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think this is where you’re supposed to promise me that if I say yes now, you’ll spend as much time on your knees as I want later.”
“Yeah, but like, manual dexterity is sexy, Tansy.”
Ha, U-Haul. Look at us. Doing sapphic stereotypes proud, moving in together after less than
Gemma (8:18 p.m.): Tansy, sweetheart, just . . . I’ve never gotten the chance to woo anyone before. It’s new. All of this is new for me.
What she felt for Gemma couldn’t be bought. It was precious and priceless and—whatever it was, it was genuine.
“Très bon, mon petit bouchon.”
mon petit what
“Péter plus haut dans son cul.”
IM CRYING WAS THERE NO FRENCH PERSON AVAILABLE TO CHECK THE FRENCH PARTS OF THE BOOK????
“Enough, mon petit chou-fleur. It’s good.”
not mon petit chou fleur😭😭😭😭
Whatever Tansy wanted, it was hers. Gemma was hers. From her assets to her heart to everything in between.
“I’m going to take the time to show you just how beautiful you are, and I’m going to keep showing you over and over and over again until you believe me.”
“And you better fucking believe I’m going to make good on that promise to spend all the time on my knees that you want.
“Sorry,” Gemma said, not sounding sorry in the slightest.
“I believe the words hostile takeover are probably flashing through your minds right about now.” “I personally prefer coup d’état,” Tucker said.
I’m sorry to interrupt, but—” No. That wasn’t true at all. “Actually, no. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry in the slightest.”
I love you, and I love the way you look at me like you’re looking at me right now, like I’m the only person in the whole room, the only person in the world.”
“I love the way you make me feel and the way you make me believe anything is possible with perseverance. So, if this is as real for you as it is for me”—she lowered herself to her knees, both of them, because she didn’t trust herself to balance on one—“will you marry me?”
“We’re here to unite Gemma Lise van Dalen and Tansy Elizabeth Adams in marriage.”
Do you, Gemma, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, in good times and in bad, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?” Gemma beamed at her. “Hell yeah, I do.”
“Do you, Tansy, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, in good times and in bad, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?” “I do,”
This was it, the moment she’d once fantasized about and hadn’t let herself dream of for far too long. “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge you my love now and forever.”
“By the authority vested in me by the state of Washington, I now pronounce you wife and wife.”
“Tansy, Gemma, you may now—” Gemma reached out, hands cupping the sides of Tansy’s face ...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
This wasn’t their first kiss, far from it, but it was their first kiss as wives. The first of many. The first of forever.
Gemma smiled against Tansy’s lips, too busy kissing her wife—holy shit, she had a wife—to
If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.
I think I’ll call your mother. Maybe I’ll make plans to spend the weekend in Roslyn instead.”
OH GOD I FORGOT HER MOM'S NAME WAS LENA AND NOT ROSLYN FOR A SEC
“Be my dance partner?” As if she would ever turn her wife down for a dance. “Always.”
“I think it’s always going to be a bit bizarre. Brooks being my uncle-slash-stepfather.
“Speaking of radiant . . .” Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “Stop.” “Never.” Gemma shook her head, grinning.
Tansy knew better than to argue with Gemma where gift-giving was concerned.
In stolen moments when Gemma wasn’t home, Tansy had cross-stitched a portrait of her, Gemma, Mills, and Boon. Their little family.
STOP IT THIS IS TOO CUTE I LOVE TANSY
“Like I can be expected to string a thought together with you looking like that.”
“You can call me whatever you want, as long as I get to call myself yours.”
“You’ve got a way with words, Gemma van Dalen. You know that?” “What can I say? You bring out the best in me, Tansy Adams van Dalen.”
Gemma looked at Tansy in that special way of hers, like Tansy was her reason for breathing, oxygen be damned. A look that never failed to, ironically, take Tansy’s breath away.
