Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I feel like I might pass out, but Holden presses his hand to the small of my back, keeping me upright, and just that small touch gives me a little extra confidence.
We both thought ahead to bring our birth certificates and all the documentation we would need to fill out the paperwork, and before I know it, we’re walking back out again with a license.
“Now we walk over there,” he says, pointing to a smaller building across the street that says The Hitching Post. It’s built to look like something out of the old west, and it actually makes me laugh.
“Okay, partner, let’s go.”
With our paperwork in one hand, Holden takes my hand with the other and leads me across the street. When we approach the door, the butterflies in my belly become murder hornets, and they’re fighting to get out.
I might throw up.
“Hello, I’m Holden Lexington, and I have an appointment.”
The older lady with silver hair curled tightly against her scalp, smiles up at Holden, and then her blue eyes widen in surprise. “Well, hellooooo. If she backs out on you, honey, I’ll fill in.”
I smirk, and Holden chuckles.
“Thanks, ma’am.” He looks down at me. “You stayin’?”
“Planned on it.”
“Well, darn,” she says with a sigh. “I have you two set up in the western chapel. Is it just the two of you today?”
“Yes,” we say in unison.
Before I know it, we’re standing in a little room with the woman from the front desk as the officiant and a guy who looks like he might work maintenance as our witness.
The old-school traditional vows are recited, where I promise to love and honor until death do us part, and that makes me feel kind of guilty because I know that I’m not going to uphold that promise, but this old lady doesn’t know that.
Holden’s eyes are intent as he holds my hands and looks into my eyes as he recites his vows. His voice is low and sincere, and it almost brings tears to my eyes because it sounds like he means what he’s saying.
What a jerk.
We slip plain gold bands onto each other’s fingers. I was surprised when he whipped those out. I have no idea where he got them.
And I don’t hate seeing it on my hand as much as I should.
Finally, I hear the words, “You may kiss your bride.”
Holden’s face descends to mine, he wraps his arms around me, and for the first time in eight years, his lips cover mine, and my eyes close, and I’m lost to him.
He groans and sinks into me, brushes his tongue over my bottom lip, and I eagerly open for him, all common sense flying out the window.
Holy fucking shit, this man can kiss.
We hear someone clear their throat, and Holden reluctantly pulls back, watching me with hot blue eyes, and I instinctively lick my lips, still tasting him.
“You’re a beautiful couple,” Old Lady says with a smile. “I hope you have a wonderful life together.”
Don’t bet on it, lady.
Holden asked me if I wanted to stop for lunch before we headed home, but I said no. I’m not hungry.
I don’t know what I am.
We’ve been quiet on the way back. And I’m staring down at the yellow gold band on my finger as Holden pulls into my driveway and cuts the engine.
“Millie.”
I don’t reply. For once, I don’t have a witty or clever comeback. I didn’t expect to feel so…sad.
“Millie,” he repeats, and I turn my head to look at him. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
I blink. Shrug. Look back down at the ring.
“Liquor,” I say at last. “I think I need to get really drunk tonight. I have tequila, but if you want something else, you’ll have to go get it.”
“How much tequila do you have?”
“Two bottles.”
“Let’s go in.”
He grabs his bags from the back, and I lead him to the door, where I key in the code and show it to him, since he’s living here now.
Holy shit, Holden Lexington lives with me. And we’re married.
“We’ll have to share a bathroom,” I tell him as we walk through the house. “But that’s okay. You get the smaller bedroom, but it still has a king bed.”
He walks into the guest bedroom and sets his bags on the floor, then eyes the master over my shoulder.
“That’s my bedroom.”
His eyes dart back to mine, and now there’s some anger in them. Maybe some irritation.
“I heard your rules,” he reminds me. “And I put my stuff in the other room, so you can watch how you speak to me.”
I sputter, but he moves in, lifts his hand to cover my throat, and drags the pad of his thumb over my jawline and down to my pulse point as he presses his mouth to my ear.
“Wife.”
Holy motherfucking shit.
He kisses my cheek, drags his lips to my mouth, and gently kisses me before pulling back and dropping his hand, and I almost fall into him because I’m leaning in.