“One week is still in August, so that’s fine.”
“Excellent.” He swipes his thumb over my lips as he pulls away. “Until then, beloved.” He heads toward the door.
I straighten. “What do you meanuntil then?”
Tucking his hands in his pockets, he walks backward, smile calm, cool, and confident. “I have a wedding to put together,so I’ll be busy for the next few days. Try and miss me in the meantime.”
Miss him? “You’re…leaving? You won’t be back tonight?”
“I’ll only be by to pick up a few of my things, but after that, my darling author, you shall have to suffer without me for a time. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I’d like your heart to be quite fond of me once we see one another again. At the altar.”
I don’t…understand. There are rules and regulations involved ingetting married. We need to apply for a marriage license. This isn’t how reality…
Stilling, I watch him turn and open my front door, then I press my hand to my racing heart as he disappears beyond it.
This isn’t how reality works.
Which means…it’sexactlywhat I want.
I have a feeling these next few days are going to be torture, yet I’m looking forward to every minute.
Chapter 24
?
Scheming. Please hold.
Alister
“Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you.” I hang up my phone and fix my attention on Wynnter, who’s grouchy, because that’s his default, and there’s certainly nothing else at all bugging him.
Huffing at the kitchen table, he mutters into his oatmeal, “Stupid.”
“I really do appreciate you letting me use your guest bed a few more times,” I say, gaze fixed on my laptop, where my wedding plans have been coming along swiftly. “I honor your sacrifice.”
“We’ll have to burn it again,” he grouses.
I smile, becausethisis the kind of family I’m marrying into. What a joy. “Counter point: you and December can just share your bed.”
He freezes, spoonful of oatmeal an inch from his mouth. Milk dribbles into the bowl as his eyes narrow. “Oh, so we’realsohaving an arranged marriage, then? I wasn’t aware.”
I glance past my screen. “I could arrange it, if you’d like.”
He deflates. “Her parents wouldn’t approve.”
Graciously, Wynnter and August’s parentsdoapprove. I spoke with them immediately after leaving August’s house yesterday. They were my first stop after I got their address from Wynnter. I greeted them in adogeza—forehead to ground—and with an apology for not having met them sooner. Then, once they’d gotten me up off the pavement, I explained the situation.
I love their daughter.
I wasn’t expecting her to agree to marriage so soon since we’ve only been dating for a month, but had I known things were actually this serious for August, I’d have met them before now.
They—like the rest of their crazy family—welcomed me with open arms, broke out a bottle of sparkling Welch’s Sangria, and started merrily plotting with me.
August’s mother asked me if I might be willing to collaborate on a group project with August in the name of creating cute grandchildren. I relented that August hadn’t told me yet whether or not she wants children. Her father suggested that might be a prudent conversation to havebeforea legal marriage. I promised I’d discuss the topic with her as soon as reasonable; although, considering I could go either way, I’m hardly concerned.
My typing halts, and I say, “Wynn?”
He grunts.
