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Father Conrad brings me back from my thoughts when he calls us over to sign the marriage license. My girl’s hand trembles as she signs her name first, JD following her and scribbling a quick “III” at the end of his name. I step forward to sign on one of the witness lines, turning to hand the pen to Blake once I’m done. He shoots me a friendly smirk before scratching out some elaborate signature that nearly overlaps mine.
“Did you really have to one-up the rest of us with your fancy, lawyerly penmanship?” I whisper as we turn to walk back to the front, bumping his shoulder with mine.
He nudges me back softly. “I’ve gotta do something to make up for the lack of roman numerals at the end of my name, don’t I?” he asks quietly, his tone amused.
We all take our places in front of the altar again, and Father Conrad gives the couple their final blessing before announcing them as Mr. and Mrs. Bourgeois for the first time. As predicted, JD pulls Tenley in for a borderline inappropriate kiss. Eventually, Blake has to call them back and remind them that Ethan’s still around, though they don’t seem to care. It’s obvious that they only have eyes for one another.
Like I said, this is that top-shelf, chef’s-kiss-level romance.
“That’s not exactly church tongue,” I scold them, though JD disregards my warning and pulls me in for a hug.
After congratulating the newlyweds and attempting to take a few pictures in which I repeatedly have to tell JD to quit staring at Tenley long enough to face the camera, we all walk out of the church together.
Well, the rest of uswalkwhile JD practicallyruns, dragging Tenley along with him at a pace that makes the rest of us laugh again. The guy has a one-track mind, though I doubt Tenley is any less eager to get home after the conversations we’ve shared lately.
I watch as Blake stops to talk to JD, who’s only response is to issue a warning for anyone who dares to interrupt them as he lifts Tenley and nearly tosses her into the truck.
“Come on, Blake,” I say, trying to pull him away. “I think Little Brother can take it from here.”
He surprises me by sliding his hand over mine so that I’m forced to keep it there over his arm. I swallow hard as his muscles flex beneath my fingers.
Ethan passes on the way to his own truck, staring at us carefully as he says goodbye. He seems less than thrilled to be spending the night at his biological dad’s, though I can’t imagine he wants to go home with his aunt and uncle tonight.
“So, what now, right?” I ask, hoping to break the ice as Blake and I walk on.
“What now, indeed,” Blake replies dryly. We reach Mrs. Therese’s car, which is parked a couple of spots down from his truck, and he finally drops his hand so I can remove mine. It’s probably the most physical contact Blake and I have had in years, and for some reason, it doesn’t feel as awkward as I expect.
“I suppose we’re not going to get that dinner we were promised, are we?” I pose with a light laugh, and he shakes his head and smiles.
“Yeah, I just got a death threat, so you can probably go back to your regularly scheduled plans for this Saturday night.”
“Oh, yes. I can just hear my stack of unread books calling me from home,” I add with a playful eye roll.
He narrows his eyes at me. “That exciting, huh?”
I cross my arms. “I’ll have you know that some of those stories can get pretty tense.”
“Do they, now?” He cocks a brow, and I swear his voice deepens a couple of octaves.
My face heats up. “Well, not likethat. But they can be suspenseful.”
“Sure, sure. I’ll bet you read that stuff for the riveting plot twists.”
I bite my lip and shove him. “And what are you going to do now? Don’t you have a date lined up for later?”
He cringes. “I don’t know. A stack of books doesn’t sound half-bad, to be honest.”
My chin lowers, and I blink my eyes quickly in surprise.
Blake Bourgeois is a reader? And a crier? And maybe even a secret romantic?
“What, you think I’m illiterate?” he fires back after assessing my reaction. “I managed to get through law school without you, Reed. Though I did miss the competition from my favorite academic rival.”
Tenley’s mom returns and ends our conversation abruptly, saving me from having to reply to his flirting.
Is that what this is? Is Blake flirting with me?
“Still need a lift, Loren?” Mrs. T offers.
