“Can I read yours before I write mine?”
“Not a chance.” He hopped up and brushed the grass off his pants. “By the way, I heard you tried to secure separate rooms for us. I may have leaked to a few people where we were staying. Make sure you show up to the right room tonight, unless you want people to start getting the wrong idea.”
I glared, but all he did was bend down to plant a kiss on my head. “Can’t have my wifey avoiding me.” With a shrug, Chris headed off to God only knew where—probably to part of the property where he could jump up and see how high he could reach all afternoon.
Child.
A man-child I was going to marry in four days.
Sizzling hot dread snaked through my veins at the thought. I was going to get married in four days. Fake or not, a wedding was a wedding. Over a thousand people would be watching. My career would be made or broken. And then Chris and I would be shoved head-first into the messy business of deciding the biggest question.
I knew how it was supposed to go if love came first. Then you had marriage, then the baby carriage. But what came next when marriage was first?
A divorce, stupid.
A divorce comes next, and I needed to stop kidding myself. That’s how this ended. Chris got his contract, I got a divorce, my career was revived. End of story. Happily ever after as long as they’re apart.
34
Chris
Damon and I sat together near the edge of a dining hall that looked straight out of Beowulf. There was a long ass table, stone everything, and even a raised terrace where I figured the throne was probably supposed to sit. Except it was currently decked out in purple and cream everything, from tablecloths to little glass vases filled with colored rocks and banners overhead.
It was the night of the dreaded rehearsal dinner, and I’d been informed that Belle and I were supposed to make some toasts to our family and friends, who were arriving now and gathering around the room to talk and snack on appetizers.
Damon’s arms were folded, and he looked like he was either experiencing some gastrointestinal distress, or maybe just contemplating what an asshole he was.
“You going to get misty eyed on me during the ceremony?” I asked.
“Hardly. But I may shed a tear when I see all the zeroes on your next contract after this is all through.”
I cringed a little. “There’s actually a little story I should probably tell you.”
Damon had been calm and passive, but he knew me well enough to be scared. He sat up straighter, fixing me with hard eyes. “What did you do?”
I recounted the story from Coach Mackie’s office, watching Damon deflate more with every word.
“You realize what you’ve done,” he said slowly when I’d finished. “You at least realize that, right?”
“I threw a hungry little man’s hotdog in the trash can.”
“I mean all of this.” Damon gestured around the room. “Every last preparation and expense was to get you that contract. And you threw it in the trash can next to a jumbo hotdog. You threw it all away for nothing.”
“No,” I said. “At the risk of sounding corny. It wasn’t for nothing.” I pointed to Belle. “I’m going to wife that woman so hard her knees will give out.”
Realization slowly dawned on Damon, who looked like he was thinking about vomiting. “You’re serious?”
“Aren’t I always?”
Ignoring me, Damon ran his palm across his mouth, eyes scanning the ceiling. “Wait. So assuming you’re not fucking with me, you actually want this marriage to be legitimate. But what about her? You realize it takes two to make a marriage work, right?”
“She’s coming around.”
“Your wedding is tomorrow, Chris.”
“I do my best work under pressure.”
Damon prodded my still-sore shoulder. “Yeah. Clearly. That’s why you nearly got tore in half against the blitz.”
“Just look at her,” I said, pointing to Belle. She was endlessly adjusting a vase in the center of the table. She’d scoot it an inch, step back, survey it, then rush forward to move it in the opposite direction. Just when it looked like she was satisfied, she’d lurch forward and move it again. “She’s perfect.”
“Perfectly neurotic, maybe.”
“Hey,” I said. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”
Damon let out a low, pained sound from the depths of his chest. “You really are serious about all of this, aren’t you? God, help us.”
“Well, I’ve got some love to make. Figurative love—by the way. We’ve already done the horizontal mambo dozens of times.”
Damon shook his head. “Then maybe her judgment really is poor enough to go along with this idiotic plan of yours.”
“See? That’s the optimistic brother I know and love.”
Belle had moved on to trying to jump and tug a stray fiber loose from one of the overhanging banners when I found her. “Oh, thank God. Can you please reach that? It’s driving me crazy,” she said.
I considered jumping and grabbing it, but that wouldn’t mean getting my hands on her. So I instead put my hands on either side of her chest and thrust her up in the air over my head. My shoulder wasn’t particularly happy about the maneuver, but as long as I didn’t try to cock Belle back and toss her in a perfect spiral downfield, I figured it’d survive. She gave me a few low effort swats but got over her annoyance for long enough to tug the stray fiber loose.
I set her back down, dusting my hands. “Are you excited for the toasts?”
“No, not really,” Belle said. “I like watching weddings, but I’m starting to realize being the co-star of one is absolutely terrifying.”
“You’ll be fine. Besides, I’ve got a plan for the toasts that should lighten the mood.”
“Chris. Please don’t go rogue and start trying to help. I really want tonight and everything else to go as smoothly as possible.”
“Oh, smooth is practically my mantra. Don’t even worry.”
“I’m worried.”
I patted her cheek. Adorably, she leaned into my palm like a puppy looking for ear scratches. I gave her earlobe a playful little tug, then laughed as she scrunched up her face and tried to swat at me. “You’re so aggressive. Just relax.”
“You’d be aggressive too if the biggest day of your life hung on the balance and an overly energetic man-child had to be trusted not to do something crazy.”
“Aww,” I said, taking her hands in mine. “I had no idea this was so important to you, but it’s important to me, too. Matrimony. Sanctity of marriage. Consecration. It’s all I’ve been thinking about. Well, mostly the last part, but still.”
“Chris. Please just go sit back down and let me do my job. I’ve got a few things to do before the rehearsal starts, and I need to focus.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll go back to watching that tight little ass of yours while you fast-walk around. Loving the dress, by the way.”
Belle’s cheeks went red, and she gave me a look of half-warning before she walked off to fiddle with the chairs, which she must’ve thought weren’t pushed in evenly.