Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Hell, I want the whole damn world to know Mara is mine. Deep down, I’m not upset about that article coming out, or about whichever of my crappy relatives spilled the beans to the press about our relationship.
Because it brings this whole thing one step closer to real. It brings her one step closer to officially being mine, for good. Forever.
“It’s fine,” I tell her, helping her down off the table and picking up her bra to pass her. “See?” I drop my napkin over the mess and laugh at her horrified expression. Then I catch her around the waist and tug her against me, leaning in to whisper against the nape of her neck. “Why don’t we just get takeout after all?”
Her eyes dart around us, as she’s no doubt considering the class of restaurant, we’re in. One of the best in the city. One with a wait list miles long. “Do they let people do that?”
“They’ll let us,” I say. Her brow furrows a little, but I lean in to kiss it away, already taking out a hundred-dollar bill to leave on the table as tip. “Don’t worry,” I murmur against her forehead. “I’m sure they’ll understand why I couldn’t keep my hands off my sexy wife for a minute longer.”
“I’m pretty sure they’ll guess you failed at that,” she points out, but she’s laughing now, even as she pulls on her clothes. She lets out a sigh, her bangs fluttering against her forehead, and shoots me a sideways look. “I’m going to have to get used to attracting a lot of attention, aren’t I?”
I try and fail not to grin. “Probably.” I arch an eyebrow. “Is that a deal-breaker, wife?”
“Not at all, husband. I just want to be sure what I’m really getting into here. If…” She hesitates. Eyes me once more, almost like she’s afraid I’m going to bolt if she looks at this whole situation too closely. “If we’re really doing this thing.”
I know the feeling. I’ve had similar feelings. Especially the other day when she threw her ring back at me. But the fear I felt at the idea of losing her? It only makes me more certain that this—that she—is what I want.
I step closer to her and sweep her into my arms, crushing her against my chest as she wraps her arms around my neck, holding on tight. “I want this, Mara,” I whisper against her hair. “I want you. What I feel for you is real.”
She tilts her head back, a sly smile on her lips. “Who would have guessed?” she murmurs. “An accidental marriage between two strangers could turn into true love.”
“And yet here we are.” I smile and lean in to kiss her again, softer and slower this time, taking my time to enjoy her. I’m already starting to swell again, just at the sensation of her hands wrapped around my neck, her body pressed to mine. But it’s more than just attraction or lust. It’s happiness.
I’ve never felt this way before. Not even with Heather, back when I thought I knew what love was. This blows every other woman I’ve dated, every other love I’ve experienced, out of the water. The woman who caught my eye in that club in Las Vegas; the wild party girl who was willing to run away to the chapel with me, drunk and exhilarated and just looking to celebrate her new lease on life, the new job she was about to plunge into… She turned out to be the perfect woman for me.
The woman I never knew I’d been waiting for, all along.
When she nestles into my arms, her head resting on my chest, letting out a sigh of sheer pleasure, that’s when I know. I will do anything to make her exactly as happy as she is right now, for the rest of our lives.
This is it for me. She’s it.
13
Mara
A calendar alert reminds me of something I’d almost forgotten in the whirlwind of the last week with John. Our deadline to annul is coming up. Two days. That’s all I have left to change my mind about this. To step off the crazy train and declare our marriage null and void—before reality sets in, and this all becomes real. Our wedding, our marriage, everything.
But in a move that might be even more crazy than our marriage was in the first place… I don’t want to.
I want to stay with John. I want to give this a real shot.
So I close the reminder with a sigh and a smile, about to turn back to my work. I’m in the office early again, as usual, hard at work in the wood shop, awaiting the rest of my coworkers to arrive. I’ve started coming in earlier than I used to, mostly to avoid the stares when I first arrive, the judgment on everyone else’s face.