“Forty-six hours and counting until we’re legal.” Peter Barnes eased up behind his fiancé, Kenley Kissinger and nibbled on Kenley’s earlobe. “Forty-six hours until we’re set.”

“We’re already set. We live together. How is that not set?” Kenley chuckled and resumed washing the dishes. He placed a soapy plate under the faucet and rinsed. “The wedding just means we’re official. Speaking of official, you never did say how we were handling the name situation. I’m fine with a hyphen.”

“I forgot about it. A hyphen works for me.” He let go of Kenley and picked up the towel. He liked the domesticity he and Kenley had settled into. He had a place he belonged and someone who loved Peter—not the male model part of his persona. He dried one of the dinner plates and glanced around the kitchen. When he’d moved in with Kenley, the house resembled Kenley’s tightly wound personality. The man liked his organization and hated clutter. Peter loved clutter. He loved leaving his clothes all over the floor and his styling products around the bathroom sink. They were opposites in most every way, but they seemed to make things work, and he loved it.

“Did you finalize the guest list?” Kenley turned off the water and wiped his hands on a towel. “Your friend, Roscoe, told me over the phone that he was doing the place cards. Peter, I thought we’d decided on a small wedding.”

“We did.” He’d forgotten about talking to Roscoe. The wedding to Kenley was in less than two days. He couldn’t seem to keep his head on straight, let alone remember who he’d delegated to help with the planning. Getting married on Valentine’s Day had been a stroke of genius on his part and he wanted to get the ceremony over with. He was ready to be officially married to Kenley.