But with his brothers and their significant others here, this is starting to feel more real.
The courthouse smells faintly like old coffee and Pine-Sol. While the exterior might be beautiful, the interior leaves much to be desired. The waiting area features plastic chairs that are bolted to the floor and fluorescent lights that make everyonelook slightly unwell. On the wall is a motivational poster about civic responsibility that’s likely never motivated anyone.
Two other couples wait ahead of us, one of them holding hands, the other studying their phones. Nobody looks like they’re having the best day of their lives.
I suppose that makes sense. This is where you go when you need marriage to be efficient.
When the woman behind the plexiglass window calls our names and instructs us to meet the judge, Jace places his big palm at the center of my back as we walk down the hallway. “From this point on, I think we should go all in. Just think of me as the ol’ ball and chain.”
He’s funny. I’ll give him that. I chuckle nervously. “It’s a cross I’ll have to bear.”
He drapes his arm around my shoulders. “That’s my girl.”
I’m Jace’s girl. Ha. I almost roll my eyes. “What are we going to tell your bandmates?” I whisper. “Won’t they wonder why they’ve never heard my name before?”
“I have a plan.” That gets me another wink. “Trust me.”
Trust. That’s a tough one for me, but I guess I’ll have to try.
Ten minutes later, we’re standing in front of a judge, and I’m staring into Jace’s bottle-green eyes, feeling dizzy.
He shoots me a crooked smile as he takes my sweaty hands in his. “I, Jace Walker, take you, Aurora Anderson, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forth.”
How does he look so calm? When the judge turns to me, Jace must realize I’m freaking out because he squeezes my palm. I nod and repeat the words after the judge.
“I, Aurora Anderson, take you, Jace Walker, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forth.”
His eyes are so bright, and for a moment, we just stare at each other as my breath saws in and out of my chest.
The judge turns to Jace. “Do you have rings to exchange?”
We agreed to get cheap rings at the local pawn shop, but when Jace pulls out a beautiful band with little diamonds, my heart pangs in my chest. Because that’s a lot nicer than what we agreed on.
Jace repeats the words of the judge. “With this ring, I thee wed.” When he slips it on my finger, he leans closer to whisper, “Do you like it? Thought this would look nice on you.”
“It’s stunning.” I hold out my hand and admire it.
“You can keep it. After,” he says, under his breath.
After?
Oh, he means after we divorce.
A million thoughts rush through my mind as I consider his words, but the one that rises to the top is that Jace is giving me a gift. This ring is his way of thanking me. Smiling, I nod. “Thank you.”
The judge clears his throat. “Aurora, it’s your turn.”
Right. “With this ring, I thee wed.” I grab Jace’s large, calloused hand and slip on the simple band I bought him with money he gave me, and I feel a twinge of guilt for not purchasing it on my own. Which is ridiculous since this isn’t a real marriage.
The judge proclaims, “You may kiss the bride,” and the Walkers cheer and shout.
Jace leans close and whispers, “For the photos,” before he tilts me backwards and levels me with a lethal smile. When his nose brushes mine, my heart thrashes against my ribs, but as he gazes into my eyes, his playfulness vanishes. He cradles my head, his touch unexpectedly tender, almost protective, and presses his mouth to mine.
For a moment, everyone in the courtroom vanishes. It’s just the two of us and the devastating weight of this kiss.
All I can think about is his minty breath and the stubble on his jaw. How his hands grip me tight. How he smells so good. How my whole body lights up when he’s so close.
This arrangement is supposed to be a transaction, an unemotional business deal, but the unexpected warmth of his kiss leaves me breathless.
