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“Take one,” he urged. “We have a lot to celebrate.”
“Ok. Just one. Thank you.” I smiled at the woman holding the silver tray.
Jeremy sat on a white leather couch in the center of the jet. I couldn’t believe how expensive everything around me looked. There wasn’t anything that resembled the simplicity of Newton Hills. Maybe that’s what it meant to be a Hartwell.
I slid into the space next to Jeremy. He scrolled through his phone. He wasn’t distracted by the activity inside the jet. The flight attendant buckled her lap belt and the captain closed the cockpit door. The champagne was crisp and cool. I exhaled as the engine started to roar. There was no turning back now. The wheels lifted into the air and we were headed north.
It was maybe only forty-five minutes before we landed in North Carolina. We jostled on the couch when the plane glided across the runway.
“That was quick.”
Jeremy glanced up from his phone. He frowned. “Yes.”
We waited while the stairs were rolled to the cabin door. There was a car waiting for us on the tarmac. I wondered if this was how Jeremy always traveled. Did he only travel by private plane? Did he always have a driver? Did he ever lift his own luggage?
I clutched my laptop bag as we descended toward the car. It was the one thing I brought with me from Bella’s. I had no way of knowing how long it would be before I returned to Newton Hills. There were details to work out we hadn’t even touched on yet. If there was one thing I couldn’t leave behind, it was my passion project—my writing.
The driver opened the door for us, and Jeremy said something to him before climbing in behind me.
“We have to make a stop on the way to the inn.”
“What kind of stop?” I asked.
“The marriage license.”
“Ahh. And if we aren’t getting it from a drive-thru, where are we picking it up?” It was after 1a.m. “I don’t think Asheville has a Certificates Are Us store.”
“I tracked down the register of deed’s home address. She’ll have one waiting for us. I made a few calls.”
I blinked. “How did you manage that?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Perk of the last name.”
I pinched my lips together. “You’re willing to wake up some poor lady from her warm cozy bed so we can get married in the middle of the night?”
“Why not?” He shrugged his shoulders.
I realized he was impossible. Impossibly sexy and cocky. Frustratingly flirty and charming. And only an hour away from becoming my husband.
“Well, it just seems… ”
“Seems what?”
“Rude?”
He chuckled. “You have a lot to learn, Evie. So much I can teach you.” His hand moved to my knee. “Probably more than Ms. Wratchet. But I don’t know if that’s a fair comparison. She did have a unique spin on Hamlet.”
I caught his eyes tracing my lips again. As much as I wanted to pretend I wasn’t attracted to everyt
hing about him, I couldn’t help but want him to kiss me again. I wanted a kiss like the one in the corner booth. Hot and heavy. Dripping with sex and fire. He leaned over, inhaling my mouth with his. I groaned when his tongue lashed against mine. Shit. Had he read my mind?
He tugged the back of my hair and I pressed my body into his, responding to his demands. They were my demands too. I wanted to feel his rippled chest. I wanted his strong arms around me.
The car came to an abrupt halt. Our eyes opened. We were parked outside a small cottage. The porch light was on.
“Let’s get that license,” he breathed into my neck.
I nodded silently, eager for the next step. The step that would cement this deal. The chance to be alone with him. Could I even think what it was I really wanted? The chance to start making a baby? Who did that on their honeymoon? I gulped and followed him out of the car.
