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“No.” Mia slammed the door, paper in hand. She waited until she was next to Claire again, and whisper-yelled, “This isn’t real! I’m not changing my name.”
Claire shrugged. “Okay. Lots of people keep their names these days.”
They entered the courthouse and found Noah sitting on an old wooden bench along the wall, one ankle propped on the opposite knee. He was the picture of comfort, like marrying women by judge was something he did every other Friday.
He looked up as they entered, his red hair swept to the side in a style more polished than usual. He wore a tailored navy suit, white dress shirt, and a tie.
A tie.
Mia slowed to a stop a few feet away. She looked down at her simple pink dress, feeling her lips turn down at the corners. “I feel underdressed.”
He stood, his expression serious. “You’re beautiful.”
Her stomach dipped at the look in his eye as he said that. She had no idea why—Noah looked like he always did. Like some quiet, brooding hero from an angsty film.
But her reaction was different in that moment. Nerves, probably.
She supposed there was nothing wrong with a little flattery on her wedding day.
It’s Noah, she told herself.Your best friend.She put her hand on his arm, and he was hard and firm, just like always. Just like she needed. He’d been her rock through so many trials over the years, and she needed his calm presence. She went up on her toes. “Are you sure about this? Last chance to back out.”
His voice was as steady as his words. “I’m sure.”
The next ten minutes went by in a blur. They’d made an appointment with a particular judge and were called back immediately. The ceremony took place in a nondescript office that looked nothing like some of the grandiose churches where Mia had previously attended weddings. Claire hovered in the background, a witness and a friend, taking photos for the friends and family that would no doubt ask to see them.
Mia’s parents were gonna flip out when they found out.
“Mia?” Noah said, his brow furrowing.
She blinked. “Huh?”
He tipped his head toward the judge, who repeated what Mia had apparently missed.
“Noah and Mia, I pronounce you man and wife.”
Her eyes widened with realization, and she gripped his warm hand tighter, suddenly feeling light-headed.
It was over already? They were married?
Had she done everything she was supposed to? Said everything she was supposed to?
The judge, an older man with thinning gray hair, gave her a strange look, and Mia belatedly realized this was supposed to be the happiest moment of her life. She took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face.
She must have looked convincing, because the judge happily returned her smile and said, “You may kiss your bride.”
Mia turned back toward Noah, and at his expression, her smile slowly faded.
His blue eyes were on her face, roaming across her cheeks, forehead, her lips, like he was memorizing her. His brows were together, a tiny wrinkle between them, almost as if he were concentrating on something difficult.
Was he already regretting this? It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he was okay, but nothing came out. Her heart had stopped, and she seemed unable to do anything but stand there and stare at him.
He still held her hands in his, and tugged gently at the same time he took a single step forward. He released her left hand and put his on the back of her head, swallowing thickly before he bent to her.
Her eyes fluttered closed the moment he kissed her. His lips were warm and soft, his mouth slightly open. Her free hand lay flat against his firm abdomen, and the other trembled in his grip. He pressed closer, his fingers gentle in her hair, their clasped hands disappearing between their bodies, and an unexpected warmth coiled deep in her belly.
Hot damn, Noah knew how to kiss.
Then he pulled back, his gaze never wavering as he took his hands from her. Her fingers shook, worse now that she didn’t have him to hold her steady.
