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“Do you still wanna marry me?”
My pulse scrambles with nerves.Is this a trick?
“Don’t worry,” he grins like a goofball, “it’s a hypothetical question. It’s happening.”
“What’s happening?”
“We’re getting married.”
“Yes… I know.”
“No, we’re getting marriedtoday.”
The room turns silent as we crowd the front entrance. Five grown men. Two women. And a baby. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you taking your pretty ass to our room, putting on something, anything, I really don’t care what. Then you have twenty minutes to be in the Jeep.Allof you have twenty minutes, if you miss it, we’ll send you selfies.”
“Miss what?”
“Us, getting married, Bubs. Catch up!”
“When are we getting married?”
“Am I speaking another language right now?” He turns to the guys for backup. “In twenty minutes. I literally just said that.”
“But… we can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I just… I don’t know.” If this is a trick, if I say yes and they laugh at my eagerness, I’ll die. I can’t die anymore. I’ve already had a shitty year.
“Do you still wanna marry me, Bubs?”
“Yes, I do.”
“You’re one hundred percent, absolutely, positively sure? You’re not settling? You’re not marrying too young?”
“I’m sure about you. I always have been.”
“Great.” He claps his hands together. “Go get dressed.” When I don’t move, he claps again. “Go! We can be at the courthouse in twenty minutes. I checked the internet on the way home; there’s no waiting period in our state, we can do this today. If you want the dress and party and stuff, that’s totally cool, we’ll do that, too. Another day. Today’s just for saying yes.”
Jon’s whiskey colored eyes snap from face to face in shock. “Are you shitting me right now?”
Jim’s eyes don’t leave mine. “Not shitting you. This is happening.” He leans in and presses a kiss to my jaw. “Run, Bubs. Run, now.”
“Ahhhhhh!” Bad mood forgotten, Kit jumps in place. Rushing forward, she takes my arm and drags me to my room. My stitches rub together. My heavy boobs don’t run as well as they used to. But I run anyway.
I’m getting married today!
“We need a dress!” She lays Bean on the middle of my bed and sprints to the closet. “What do you wanna wear?”
“But… I don’t know. I still have a belly.”
“Oh please,” she scoffs. “You look like you’re holding ontomaybefive pounds. We can make it work.”
“But… I didn’t sleep last night. I look awful.”
“Izzy.” She stops and takes my hands. “That’s two buts in a row. Do you want to marry him?”
