Hitched(6)

“So sweet to see you so in love.” Judge Maplethorpe wipes his eyes again. “Your families should be here for this.”

“I’m getting it all on video,” Griselda, the county clerk receptionist, announces. She’s serving as witness, and the temperature in the room ratchets up another four degrees as I realize she’s undoubtedly planning to post this to the town’s InstaChat page as soon as we’ve sealed the deal.

“Your vows, Blake?” the judge prompts.

Blake turns to me with those angry dragon eyes and fire coming out his nostrils, and I’m suddenly less worried that he’s going to bolt and more terrified that he’s going to expose my plan to all of Happy Cat.

“Hope,” he begins, and I stifle a squeak, because I’ve made my bed in asking him to marry me and now I have to take whatever comes.

And also be ready to tackle Griselda and make her delete the video.

“When I woke up this morning, I had no idea that in a few short hours my life would change forever,” Blake continues. “I vow to you, here and today, to be the kind of husband you deserve, to always give as much as I get, and to never, ever forget how I feel in this moment.”

Judge Maplethorpe blows his nose and takes a steadying breath. “Beautiful, Blake. Beautiful. Hope?”

The lights overhead start to buzz, and I realize I’m in trouble.

Olivia mentioned that stress can make my natural energy field go wonky, and I’m absolutely on the high end of the stress scale today. So I open my mouth and blurt the first thing that comes to mind.

“Blake, thank you for marrying me. I promise to try to make you as happy as you make me, so long as our marriage shall live.”

The lights flicker, and I turn to the judge. “Could you get to the now pronounce you part before—”

There’s a snap and a flash, and the room descends into total darkness.

“—that,” I finish on a sigh.

“Oh well, we don’t need electricity to have love and marriage,” the judge’s voice says somewhere in the darkness. “You want to add anything to your vows? Either one of you?”

“My phone died,” Griselda says. “I can’t get the screen to turn on so I can power up the flashlight feature.”

“Of course not,” Blake mutters.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Georgia, I now pronounce you man and wife,” the judge’s disembodied voice says. “You may now kiss the bride. Erm, if you can find her.”

I make a kissing noise. “Good job, Blake! You found me. Now how about we—”

Before I can finish saying get out of here so you can replace the fuses I just blew, two strong hands grip my bare shoulders, two firm lips press to mine, and I suddenly remember exactly why I proposed to Blake four years ago in Vegas.

He kissed me on a dare from a blackjack dealer not long after we unexpectedly ran into each other that weekend. After one taste, I was drunker on him than I’d ever been on alcohol.

I’d never been kissed by a man who knew what he was doing before.

And this kiss?

Today?

In the blacked-out basement courtroom?

He’s upping his game.

Using those firm lips to remind me of all the things he did to me in our hotel room on our first wedding night. His thumbs brushing my shoulders while his rough hands slide down my arms, teasing my skin until my whole body aches.

Pulling me tight against him, making my breasts heavy inside this stuffy dress, making me want his hands on my bare skin while his earthy scent floods my senses, taking me back to a fluffy hotel bed where he taught me that a talented man’s tongue is better than a bucketful of sex toys.

Reminding me why I thought marrying him—the first time—was a good idea.

He’s kissing all my memories out of the vault I’ve stored them in since we left Vegas.

There’s a flickering and a buzz, and I realize it’s not coming from my whacked-out energy field.

No, the lights are back on.

Someone must’ve flipped the circuit.

“So, so beautiful,” Judge Maplethorpe chokes out.

Blake pulls out of the kiss and smirks down at me.

Anyone else would think it’s a smile, but when it’s aimed at me, it’s a smirk.

And a promise—There’s more where that came from, Hope, and you know it.

I do.

I very much do.

Which makes his promise a threat.

I’m doing this for Chewpaca, I remind myself.

And I’m not going to fall for my husband.

Because love always ends badly.

In my family anyway. St. Claires aren’t built for forever.

And so Blake and I will just have to be business partners.

Without benefits.

“No benefits, no benefits, no benefits,” I chant beneath my breath as I trail Blake out of the courtroom, already knowing that of all the promises I’ve made to myself in my life, this one is going to be the hardest one to keep.





Three





From the text messages of Blake and Clint O’Dell





Blake: Bro, you up? I need to tell you something before it hits the gossip vines.





* * *



Clint: About to hit the sack. It’s bedtime here in Japan. What’s up?