AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Where's my congratulations?" I smirk.
He arches his eyebrows and then focuses on Maeve. "And ya are?"
I answer, "Her name is Maeve. We're getting married tonight."
Father Michael shakes his head. "Ya know that's not possible. It takes twelve weeks for the registrar to accept."
"Told ya," Maeve mutters.
I laugh, my voice booming across the room. Father Michael's eyes turn to slits, reminding me of my soon-to-be bride only a few moments ago. I release her and lean closer to him.
He looks up, meeting my intense gaze. It's one thing I have to give the man; he seems to always hold his own with my brothers and me. He doesn't scare easily, but he also knows who he works for.
I lower my voice. "Now, I know there's a price for everything. So what is it?"
He hesitates.
"I'm not going to ask ya again."
He claims, "For an immediate wedding, it's a hundred grand."
I shake my head. "No, it's not."
"Aye, it is. Ya don't know what I have to go through to do that. Plus, it puts the church at extra risk."
I scoff. "Extra risk? Should we start discussing all the risks the church takes in the name of Jesus?"
Disapproval fills his face. "You will not speak badly about the church or Jesus."
There are certain things you don't mess with Father Michael over. God is one of them, and his precious religion that I could give a fuck about. But I know my father will require me to be married in the church. And Father Michael's the only one who can make this happen. So, I decide to keep the rest of my opinion to myself. I offer, "I'll give you seventy-five thousand, but that's it."
He shakes his head. "It's a hundred."
I step closer, and he holds his ground, not flinching.
I use my most threatening voice to say, "Do we need to change which church we support?"
A moment passes. He finally caves a little, declaring, "Ninety."
"Eighty-five. And that's my final offer. So take it, or I'll go elsewhere along with the O'Connor support," I threaten, knowing that this church can't survive without us pumping the money we do into it.
He sighs, glances at Maeve, then back at me. He says, "I won't wed people who don't want to be wed."
"That's not the O'Connor style," I remind him, then set my gaze on Maeve. "You're doing this willingly, aren't ya, lass? Ya had a choice, and ya chose me, didn't ya?"
She stays quiet, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Father Michael steps toward her.
She takes a step back.
He holds his hand out. "Ya don't need to be scared of me, lass."
She lifts her chin and claims, "I'm not scared of you or him."
Father Michael gives me a disapproving expression. "Tynan, are ya forcing her to marry ya?"
"Of course I'm not. She chose to marry me. Tell him, lass," I repeat.
