Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I may have failed my younger self.
Because I’m getting married in green leggings, no purity whatsoever, to a hockey player with a rotten reputation, and with my family nowhere to be seen.
They don’t even know.
I wonder if that’s a good thing.
I’ve never listened to town gossip; I don’t care. Blitz is small and has way too many running mouths. Everyone has something to say about everyone, and it is exhausting. I’ve only ever wanted to live in peace and enjoy myself. I never expected, on my wedding day, that the county clerk would ask if I was sure. She doesn’t ask Coleson, only me, as she holds the pen out of my reach, concern in her blue eyes for me. Someone she doesn’t even know. I don’t miss the way Coleson freezes up or how he holds his breath for my answer.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I want to marry him?”
Without meeting her gaze or his, I take the pen and sign the marriage license, sealing my fate. I watch as he does the same, and when she stamps it, she asks warily, “Do you want to have a ceremony?”
“No,” Coleson answers before I can. I’m not sure what I would have said, but I wish he didn’t sound so damn cold.
The clerk looks at me, and I send her a wide smile. “We’re going to have a small thing with our families.”
Her eyes cut to Coleson. “Is your momma back in town, Coleson?”
I glance up at Coleson as he shakes his head. “No.”
He’s been doing this one-word answer thing since we got here. Gone are the quick grins and the sparkle in his eyes. He’s distant, and he is all about business. I hate it. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Well, that wasn’t nice. I bring my brows in tight, wanting to give the clerk a bit of my mind, but Coleson only nods in agreement. “Let’s.”
He then holds out his elbow for me after the clerk hands him our official marriage certificate. “Ready, Wife?”
His question hits me square in the chest.
Wife. I’m his wife.
I’m Eliza Katz. For a year, at least.
Emotion rolls over me, and tears burn my eyes as I take his elbow without meeting his gaze. We walk out together into the cool fall breeze in silence. The document in his hand flaps in the gusting air. It catches my attention, and I almost can’t believe we did it. I was there, so I know we did, but damn, this is really happening. I feel light-headed as he guides me to his SUV. When he opens the door, I climb into his massive truck using the oh-shit bar, and when my ass hits the seat, I expect him to shut the door.
But he doesn’t.
His height has him at eye level with me, so when I look at him, I’m gazing right into his eyes. A bit of the playfulness is back in his gaze, but so is a bit of nervousness. I lick my lips as we stare at each other. Without breaking eye contact, he places the marriage certificate in my lap and then takes ahold of the roof of the SUV, leaning forward. His huge biceps frame his face, and he looks so damn good, I want to feel his lips on me. His teeth. His hands.
“Have you told your family?”
I shake my head, mostly to get the dirty thoughts out of my mind.
News flash, it doesn’t work.
“No, I planned on doing it tonight. Louisa is coming back, so my two younger sisters are coming over for dinner.”
“Will you move in tomorrow, then?”
“Yeah, probably. I’ll need to get box—”
“I’ve got boxes in the kitchen. I’ll have everything ready for you tomorrow. If you want help packing, I’m available after one. Either way, I’ll be by to help bring everything over.”
“Thanks,” I say, wringing my fingers. He watches my hands and then looks at the document sitting in my lap.
His brows furrow a bit before he looks up at me. “You looked upset when I said no to a ceremony.”
I shrug, glancing at the piece of paper that declares we’re married. “It’s not how I thought my wedding day would be. Just two signatures, that’s it.”
“I’m sorry,” he admits in a low voice. “The women in there don’t care for me or my family, so I didn’t want to give them any more fodder for their gossip.”
“Why don’t they like you?”
He averts his eyes. “That’s a story for another time.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d rather not get into that in the middle of a parking lot that has listening ears,” he says, but I know it’s an excuse. He pats my leg and then pushes off the frame to shut the door. I watch as he walks around, running his fingers through his hair, messing it up. He gets in, starts the truck, and then takes off without another word. I chew the inside of my cheek as I try to figure out how I’m going to tell my sisters what I’ve done. I know they’re going to lose their damn minds, and I’m truly not ready for it.