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“Not even going to ask, huh?”
Merch’s eyebrows slowly raise, and he smirks across at me.
“That’s me asking. If you want to say no, don’t put it on.”
Um. No. I quickly pluck the ring out of the box, slipping it onto my fourth finger and grinning like a maniac. When I look up, I catch the triumphant look on Merch’s face before he glowers at me, pointing at the door.
“We’re still late.”
I lead him out, wondering where we are going. He made me dress up. Maybe we’re having a surprise engagement party? That would totally be like him. To plan a party before he even bothered to kind of ask me.
We turn left out of the drive, not right, so I’m officially confused. The clubhouse is right. Where else would we have an engagement party? Wait! Merch isn’t wearing his cut. He’d totally wear his cut to an engagement party. Fucking hell.
You know what is left? Pinedale. Pinedale is left. Is he taking me to see my parents or something? Show them the ring. That’s not how I want to introduce Merch to them. I need time to plan that meeting. Process and plan.
The tall buildings of Downtown whip past while I’m trying to work out an introduction speech in my head. But we don’t turn off to drive south. We keep heading west into the older, more stately buildings of the Historic Downtown district. Where the hell are we going?
I stare in shock as Merch pulls the Chevy up at the curb in front of City Hall. He smirks at me, sliding out and rounding the trunk. My door opens, and his hand appears. Always so chivalrous.
Because of my dress and the slight winter breeze, Merch plucks me out and lifts me down. Taking my hand, he leads me up the stairs into City Hall. Why are we at City Hall? Do we have a meeting with the mayor? Why would we be meeting the mayor?
Merch takes me inside, along the marble-floored halls, and into a large, airy room with lots of wooden church-style pews.
“Need your ID, kid,” he grunts. Mechanically, I hand him my purse, still gaping around.
Taking out my wallet, he plucks out my ID, dropping the purse back in my lap as I sit down on one of the pews. He strides off to talk to one of the suited people at the counter. Eventually, he beckons me over, taking my hand and leading me into a small room.
“You almost missed your slot,” the smiling woman tells us. Our slot? What slot? “Do you have the rings?”
What rings? My engagement ring? Holy fuck! Merch grins, pulling another velvet box from his pocket. This one has two matching white gold wedding rings in it. Are we getting married? Oh my god.
The ceremony passes in a bit of a haze. I can’t believe I’m getting married. The officiant frowns, repeating something. Merch’s eyebrows raise, and he nudges me with his foot, squeezing my hands where he’s holding them.
“Kid? That’s your line.”
“What? Oh! Uh, I do,” I stutter. Merch and the officiant both smirk, and she asks Merch the question I totally missed.
“I do,” he says, not stuffing it up like I did. His voice rings with certainty. I grin up at him.
Merch’s favorite part of the whole thing is clearly when he gets told he can kiss me. Cupping my jaw with both hands, he practically mauls my mouth.
His second favorite part is when he gets to put my ring on me. His eyes blaze triumphantly, and my hand feels like it might crack all the bones under his firm grip.
“Mr. and Mrs. Marcano,” the officiant smiles. “That’s you married.”
Just like that, huh? Merch thanks her, towing me out of the room.
“We’re married,” I say as he helps me back into the Chevy, plucking the parking ticket off the windscreen, balling it up, and throwing it over his shoulder.
He slides into the truck and grins across at me. “Yeah, we fucking are.”
I grin back at him. I like the sound of that.
MERCH
Shelley liked our impromptu wedding. Thank fuck. I didn’t want to give her a chance to change her mind. What the fuck am I thinking? I didn’t want to spend another second not married to her. She’s the best thing to ever come into my life. I had to lock that shit down.
There are a few people at the clubhouse when we get there. I texted Palmer and told him to make sure he and Lisa were there. Lisa spots Shelley’s rings the second we walk in, squealing loudly.
