She does, sighing with contentment as she slides her arms in. Then she joins her hands with mine. I squeeze her fingers extra tight, and she winces.
I loosen my hold. “Sorry.”
I’m just so damn afraid you’re going to disappear.
I don’t say it, but she seems to understand. Lacing her fingers with mine, she makes sure we’re locked together as Jay unfolds a piece of paper he printed out from the marriage ceremony site.
“I’m happy to be here today with Ethan Smith and Rosalie Pearson…” he says our names in a hushed whisper before droning on with a formal bit about love and commitment.
I barely listen. I’m too busy studying my soon-to-be wife. I can tell she did her own makeup, because it’s layered on a little thick. Shimmery cream eyeshadow coats her lids, and her winged eyeliner is extra dramatic. Her lips are pouty and red from her lipstick, and blush highlights the apples of her cheeks.
She couldn’t be more beautiful.
“It’s time for your vows,” Jay tells us, and my mind blanks.
Fuck.
I didn’t write any vows. I figured there were some traditional ones already written out for us.
Thankfully, Rosalie’s got it covered, and she whispers, “Just tell me something real.”
I grin as the easiest truth comes to me. “I want you to be my wife.”
She smiles back at me with wetness shining in her eyes. “And I want you to be my husband.”
“Good enough,” Jay says, motioning at Gus because it’s time for the rings.
An adorable argument ensues between Casey and her son. Whatever toddler gibberish he’s spewing, it’s clear he does not want to relinquish the jewelry. After Casey whispers a promise to get him his own new rings next time they go to the store, he finally gives them up.
Rosalie watches the exchange like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. Her head is tilted and there’s a longing in her stare.
I know what’s next on her list—children.
It’s probably not the smartest idea to put a baby in her just yet, but I have to admit the idea’s tempting.
After the rings are back on our fingers, ‘I do’s’ are exchanged.
And then it’s done.
Jay spreads his arms as if he holds all the power in the universe. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
I feel like I can finally breathe.
Gripping Rosalie’s waist, I pull her close and lower my mouth to hers. She’s smiling as she throws her arms around my neck. Her kisses are eager and frantic, coming one after the other. Like she needs to seal the deal a bunch of times to make it real.
Oh, it’s real, all right.
Our union might not be recognized in the eyes of the law until we file the necessary paperwork—and that might be a long time from now—but we’re lawless anyway at this point.
The sound of clapping breaks the PDA up, and Rosalie giggles as she wipes her lipstick off my mouth.
“Let’s go inside,” I suggest, still not completely comfortable with how exposed we are out here.
“Good idea,” Jay agrees. “Plus, we have a surprise for you two.”
Practically vibrating with excitement, Rosalie tugs me toward the house and we all shuffle inside. Casey goes over to the fridge and produces a small, plain, round white cake from a bakery and a bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling grape juice.
“It’s not a wedding without cake and a toast.” She opens a cabinet and rises on her tiptoes to get four champagne glasses and a sippy cup.
Once the juice is poured and everyone has a glass, Jay lifts his. “To the happy couple.”
I watch Rosalie as she takes a sip. It must be the first time she’s had this stuff, because her eyes widen when the bubbles hit her tongue. Snuggling up to my side, she downs half her drink in one gulp. Even with her lips occupied, she can’t stop smiling.
I’ve never seen her this happy before. During the time I’ve known her, she’s been sullen, snarky, and sarcastic. She’s been sexy, funny, and inquisitive.
Now she’s glowing with elation.
I did this.
I made her happy, and damn if that doesn’t make me feel like I’m on top of the world.
“You know, we were thinking,” Jay starts, leaning against the sink. “Why don’t you stay another night?”
“We don’t want you out on the road,” Casey adds. With Gus on her hip, she moves around the kitchen, collecting plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake. “Driving straight through your wedding night sounds pretty miserable.”
Considering it, I look to Rosalie. She shrugs, tossing the decision back to me.
Before I accept their invitation, I need to know the latest updates on our situation. Do the authorities have any leads? Did anyone recognize us? Should we stay put or keep moving?
“That’s very generous of you,” I tell them. “We’ll think about it. Jay, would it be all right if I use your laptop for a minute?”
“Sure,” he responds, going over to the couch to open the laptop sitting on the coffee table. “After all, it used to be yours.”
After typing in his password, he motions for me to have his seat. I nod my thanks and get to work. I check all the local news sites first. Nothing on our story has trickled down to Illinois yet, but it’s still hot in Indiana and Michigan.
Next, I check my email. It’s mostly junk… except for one from Ivan yesterday afternoon and one from Jen Harding this morning.
Jen’s subject is blank. She’s emailed me before when she’s wanted to consult about cases, but it’s not a good sign when your FBI contact reaches out to you while you’re a wanted man.
Maybe she just wants to thank me for alerting her to Jimbo6969’s perverted ways.
A man can hope.
I decide to check hers first.
Mr. Smith,
I need you to call me right away. The large reward on you and Ms. Pearson made me take notice. And do you know what I noticed? First, you going by a different name. Second, Rosalie Pearson has a striking resemblance to an age progression photo of a missing child case I worked fifteen years ago. I’d like to bring her in for questioning and some tests.
I haven’t told anyone I recognized you, because I want to give you a chance to come forward. Let’s work something out, and I’ll make sure you’re both safe. Do you still have my card? If not, my information is at the bottom of this email. Do the right thing, Ethan.
The right thing. So objective. If I turn us in, Rosalie certainly wouldn’t see it that way. She wants anonymity, and if we’re caught and the world figures out who she is, she certainly wouldn’t have that ever again.
Plus, she doesn’t even know who she is. When she finds out, it’s going to change her. It’ll rock her to her core. She deserves to process it quietly and privately. Hopefully in the tropical peace of Costa Rica.
I can admit to myself that I’m selfish, too. I don’t want to let her go. We’re bound together, her and I. From now until eternity.
But with Jen on our tail, we’ve got problems. It took Jay less than a couple of hours to figure out our game. Facial recognition software is child’s play compared to what the FBI can do, and Jen’s like a dog after a bone. Now that she suspects Rosalie is a case that slipped through her fingers, she won’t stop.