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The priest says his bit. Then we say the generic, paint-by-numbers vows. Somewhere in the back of my head, I remember a younger me dreaming that one day, when I got married, my husband and I would write our own vows together.
But then I played a part in killing a mob boss. And now…well…here we are.
Although it’s not like I’ve ever written a poem or a stanza in my life, Muse of Sonnets and Songs and whatever gobbledygook I may be named for. So maybe that part’s for the best.
I shiver when Castle slips the ring onto my finger. And I’m shaking so hard when I do the same to him that I almost can’t get the simple silver band on. Again, all for show, because we have to actually sell this, lest the Carvelis or any of their Commission friends decide to call bullshit.
“And now,” the priest says with a nervous laugh. “Now would usually be the time where you’d kiss the bride.”
Castle’s eyes swivel to mine. His jaw ripples as those fierce blues stab right through me. My throat works. My bottom lip slips between my teeth.
“But, if you’d prefer not to, I can simply say, I now pronounce you man and wife.”
It all happens in slow motion. We turn to step off the little altar, because it’s time to go take these famous pictures. And as I step off of the platform, one of thegoddamntoo-tall heels I’m wearing catches on the edge.
Suddenly, I go sprawling.
And then suddenly, someone catches me.
Sort of.
Castle moves with startling speed as he lunges to grab me. When he does, he’s over-extended himself, which means he’s now sprawling forward, too. With a grunt, he twists his body just before he hits, slamming to the ground on his back as I go crashing down on top of him.
Chest to chest.
Hips to hips.
Andmouth to fucking mouth.
It’s a kiss so hard I can taste copper exploding into my mouth as our lips sear together.
But still, it’s a kiss. Our second stolen one, and our first as man and wife. I know it quite possibly will be the last one, too.
But just for this one moment, surrounded by all the fake and the arranged, I’ll take a giant, intoxicating gulp of real, and I’ll hold the taste of it in my mouth as long as I can…
One second.
That’show long I manage to hold onto it. One. Single. Solitary. Second. After that, Castle’s yanking his mouth away from me, and suddenly lifting me off him as he scrambles to his feet, like I’m weightless.
I collect myself, fixing my dress and blowing my hair out of my face before I turn. And when I do, our eyes lockhard.
Our friends and family are laughing, like it’s a cute, funny “oopsie” moment. Like Castle’s just fumbled his words while asking me to prom. Or I’ve just dropped the ring during our engagement photo shoot.
My face heats, and I force a weak, awkward smile, like I’m laughing at the moment along with them.
Castle isn’t laughing. He’s glaring into my very soul.
We made itone second.
Then we broke the rules.
12
CALLIE
Gettingthe photos taken afterward is a blur. I vaguely remember posing for them next to a stony, lock-jawed, unsmiling Castle while Ya-ya’s photographer snaps away. We mingle with our friends and family after that—again, for the photos, to “prove” our wedding is real to the Carvelis.
There’s a toast of champagne—partly for the cameras, but also to celebrate that our marriage has just removed all the potential upheaval that we would have gone through otherwise. That I’m no longer taking “Carveli” as a last name, and Ares is no longer in danger of losing basically everyone’s money in some potential theft-like divorce.
