Chapter 84: Bad Girls Honeymoon at Wal-Mart

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I know. I know.  You all want TrayKat. But MADAM got married, and we can't just forget about that!!! So here's is their Honeymoon Chapter, from Mac's perspective. If you want to know what Adam felt and thought during their honeymoon, just watch the video of Thomas Rhett's Die a Happy Man, and that pretty much sums up Adam's feelings during this week.

Mac

Adam's calloused fingers lazily playing in mine would normally be heaven, but I'm a little anxious. I can tell from the terse sounds of Trace's voice—barely audible through the phone—that something is going down.

I pull at Adam's ring finger, adorned with his handsome new wedding ring, and crack the knuckle.

"Speakerphone," I mouth.

He smiles at me and kisses my fingers, but shakes his head. He puts the phone on mute for two seconds. "Trace has got something on his mind; he needs a brother, not a group discussion."

Then Adam slides the mute off and rises from the very comfortable bed in our brand new tour bus, dons his trousers, and walks to the front, closing the sleeping compartment door. I fall back into the bed. With an exasperated sound.

After about fifteen minutes, I text him, interrupting his conversation:

You're sooooo married now, dude.

Pregnant wifey with needs trumps Bro-code.

I'm staaaaaaaarving. (Imagine my whiny voice.)

He texts back immediately:

If my baby and our baby are hungry,

I got you.

Trace is winding down.

Give me five more minutes, okay?

BTW...

You never whine, Shortcake.

Except when I'm banging the bejesus out of you,

And you are begging for more.

To my surprise, the tour bus starts up. Is Adam really going to drive this thing? We are still in the parking lot of the Nashville airport, where Matt parked us, and our crazy wedding night ended with the del Marco entourage boarding their private jet, the videographer catching an Uber, and Penelope getting a room at an airport-adjacent hotel, to give us privacy in our new home on our wedding night, and preparing to fly back to Riley and the band in the morning.

I play with my wedding rings, smiling as I remember how amazing our wedding night was.

Adam and I had another first.

We made out.

I know that sounds crazy, but we have never kissed and cuddled in a bed without it ending in sex. Oh my god, Adam is the best kisser. I knew that, of course, but somehow his amazing sex skills have always overshadowed his kissing.

Not last night. That man's lips? The way they pulled and teased? The way he brushed them across my throat, side to side, sending shivers down my spine as he slowly settled them down to a perfect place to suck? The world could have ended and I wouldn't have cared.

Okay, that's not true. I really want to meet my daughter. But goddamn, that man knows how to bliss me out.

I sit up, looking down at the splotch marks on my bare chest, before hastily donning his bespoke shirt over my panties. I know some girls hate being marked, but I love when Adam does it, and he's usually pretty careful to do it in places that won't show during a performance, so it's even sexier. Like a secret between us.

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