Then the Justice asks for the rings. Wayne hands them to Gage, and we repeat more words while we slip the rings on each other’s fingers. They’re simple gold bands that we quickly picked out about a week ago. Mine is much thinner with delicate, antique looking scrolling on the edge. If I’m going to be wearing this sucker for a while, it might as well have a little pizazz to it.
Our hands linger together, warmth and electricity passing through them like they’re connected by a live wire. Then the justice says we can kiss. We knew this would be coming, of course, and decided that it would be a good way to show his dad especially that this is real. Gage squeezes my hand briefly, and I give him an imperceptible nod. His citrus and wood smoke scent envelops me as he leans in and gently presses his lips to mine.
That press is a lightning strike.
I gasp just as I hear his sharp intake of breath. His lipsare so plush, warm, and soft that they mold to mine easily. Neither of us pull away right away, our heads angling to deepen the kiss instead. My arms wind around his neck of their own volition, and I hear Carlo whoop as if from a great distance. The whoop seems to bring us both out of our little vacuum, back to reality, and we reluctantly pull apart. Our chests both heave with our quick breaths, Gage’s eyes searching my face with blown out pupils. I give him a smile, because the small part of my brain that is still functioning knows that’s what a normal wife would do at this moment. He smiles back and squeezes both of my hands that are still in his.
“Hi, wife,” he whispers only for me.
“Hey, hubby,” I manage to whisper back.
The Justice declares us man and wife, and we turn to see our nearest and dearest beaming at us. They wrap us up in many hugs and well wishes, and it all feels like a blur. We sign the document making it legally binding with Tania and Carlo as our witnesses, while I try to maintain my composure that this is all actually happening. I hope to any higher being listening that this doesn’t come back to bite me and Gage in the ass. It might be already.
We’re officially married, and I am so fucked, because it turns out I really want my husband.
Chapter 13
Gage
It’s been three days since the wedding, and Celeste is moving in today. Even the birds can sense there’s a change coming, and it’s going to be a big one. Hermes is somehow even more alert and chatty, and Daisy is a ball of energy. They’re probably picking up on my cocktail of anxiety and excitement. I’ve never lived with a woman before, always shying away from that intimacy.
Celeste is far from just any woman. She’s now my wife, the woman whose kiss I can still feel, and have dreamt about every night since our wedding. I was not prepared for how good her lips felt or how they molded so perfectly to mine. Now we’re going to be under one roof, going to bed two doors away from each other every night for the foreseeable future. I am so completely fucked.
There’s no denying that she seemed to be affected too, but that does not mean she wants it to mean anything. I’m still not sure what I want it to mean, if anything. Do I want to just sleep with her? Do I want to date her? My thoughts are too muddled and anxious right now to figure it out. Let’s see if we survive living with each other before anything else.
The guest room is all ready for her, I vacuumed and dusted it yesterday. Fresh sheets are on the bed. The hall bath is sparkling and stocked with toiletries she might need. I think I must have come by the neat freak gene from my mom, since my dad was certainly always lax about keeping the house tidy. Cleaning is one of my ways to keep order in a chaotic world, I guess. It soothes me. Considering how messy the birds can be, it’s also necessary to be a clean freak to stay on top of it.
Celeste should be here pretty soon after working a morning shift at the diner. I tried to tell her I’d pick her up and help her with the heavy things, but she said it would be silly. Carlo could load the heavy things into her car and I could help when she got here, she had reasoned. I personally think she might be as thrown by the kiss and being married as I am, and just needs a little distance before we live together, which is understandable. Her possessions all fit into two large suitcases she’s borrowing from Tania and two boxes, so it’s not like it’ll be a chore to get everything inside.
My phone beeps with the text sound I assigned to Celeste. It’s simple bells, but if she calls, the wedding march plays. Call it my weird sense of humor that I bought the ringtone for a dollar once we made our plans. I rarely keep my phone on silent after my dad’s diagnosis, because I never want to miss a call from him or my family if something were to happen. Her text makes me grin.
Celeste the Mess
On my way, roomie, see you soon
Drive carefully, wife
We’ve been towing such a fine line between keeping our friendship the way it’s been with our fun banter and flirting, and trying not to cross any boundaries. It’s a damn tightrope that is becoming harder and harder to navigate, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t having fun with it.
Having fun with her.
Planning our little courthouse wedding was not at all stressful because she’d make me laugh with outlandish ideas. There is no way I could do this with anyone but Celeste, she is so effortlessly perfect at selling this that I think even my dad might be fooled. I caught him looking a little teary after our ceremony. If this plan works, and we both get what we need out of it, it’ll be worth all of the confusion and wanting.
Her car pulls up not too much later since Tania and Carlo’s is only twenty minutes or so from my place. I love this area of New Jersey, we’re only an hour from NYC, Philly, Atlantic City, and the shore. It’s so central to everything. It’s well manicured suburbs with some lively downtown areas that have loads of shops and restaurants. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I’m aware the second she pulls in because I’ve been watching out the window like some stalker chump, so I throw on my shoes and go out to greet her. She’s hauling a suitcase out of her trunk when I jog to her side.
“Here, let me,” I say.
“I can handle a suitcase, Casanova,” she says wryly. “Why don’t you grab a box, please?”
“I’ll bring everything up to your room, you head in to cool off and relax. There are cold drinks in the fridge, and I put out a snack board,” I tell her. “Hermes and Daisy are eager to see you, go on in,” I add with a grin.
Her eyebrows hit her hairline, her expression going mulish. She crosses her arms across her chest, and sets that stubborn chin.
“I don’t do well with being told what to do, I think you should know that right off the bat. If I want to bring in my suitcase, I’ll bring it in. You’re not about to start getting high handed with me barely days into this marriage, are you?”
Shit, that is not my intention at all. I don’t know how to explain that I have this insane urge to protect her, and take care of her, without sounding like some misogynistic creep.
“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be high handed. I just want to help you get settled and let you rest. Let me take care of you a little, please. It’s been a crazy few weeks, right?”
