I mean, it was worth it, but I don't see how we're going to go back to a business arrangement. I'll still tell him about the rules though in case he wants an out.
I'm guessing he does.
As I glance over at his sleeping frame, I feel slightly guilty. I took advantage of him while he was in a vulnerable state. He was upset and emotional, and I pounced like a duck on a June bug.
Not that I've ever seen a duck pounce on a June bug because, well, ducks are still birds—shudder—but I imagine it looked something like me attacking Xavier as he was freaking out last night.
I don't know why I did it, other than he was hurting, and I wanted to make it stop, but once I started touching him, my more primitive brain took over. Yes, that's it.
It's not because I'm hopelessly attracted to him.
That would be foolish.
It's certainly not because I'm totally falling for this wonderful man.
That would be downright ridiculous.
I'm exhausted and sore. I feel my cheeks blush thinking about Xavier. Yes, rule number two was definitely violated.
By both of us.
Also, his tongue was quite generous, as was the rest of him, and my uterus is definitely dancing. Shit.
I force myself out of bed and to the bathroom where I take my birth control pill. I look at the pill pack, and I'm right on schedule. In addition to the protection we used, I should be fine. My uterus can slow her roll for right now. There is no need to complicate this already totally messed-up situation with something like an unplanned pregnancy.
I'm all in for the romantic tropes, but that would be too much, even for me. I close the toilet lid and sit down, head in my hands. What the hell was I thinking? Like I could fix his clusterfuck of a life situation with my magic vagina?
We can't do that again. It's only going to make things messier. It sounds like his life is a dumpster fire as it is. He doesn't need me to add kerosene.
At least I put him in a better mood for a while. I definitely got a smile out of him. The memory of him grinning up at me from between my legs is enough to turn my body into molten lava.
Get a grip, Ophelia.
Just because you're married doesn't give you the right to jump his bones at any given moment. That's not in the contract.
Shit. The contract. Tony. Tony's AWOL, which means there's probably not even a contract. What does this mean?
Maybe the Buzzards will still take Xavier. It's obvious they want him. So then all we need to do is draw up a little agreement between us about the marriage stuff. I can probably get my brother Owen to help. I'm almost certain it's not the type of law he practices, but I'm sure he can do something.
Sure, he'll rib me endlessly about my impulsive behavior, but I'm used to it. Isn't that the role of the youngest—to be the butt of all the family jokes?
On second thought, maybe I can figure this out for myself. Hell, the internet has a lot of contracts. I head out to my desk and fire up my computer. It's Saturday, so at least I don't have to get distracted by work. It'd be nice to have something positive to give to Xavier when he wakes up.
I glance at the clock. It's after eight. This is the latest I've ever known him to sleep. I must have worn him out.Go me.
Within minutes, I'm down the rabbit hole of prenups, but that's not really what I need. We need to have in there how long the marriage has to be for the citizenship thing, so I head to the government website to do a deep dive.
It's as abrupt as diving into a pool of ice-cold water.
Right there, on my screen, in black and white, point number three.
You have to be living with the marital spouse for three years immediately prior to and during the application process.
Tony is a fucking idiot.
Or are we the idiots for racing off to the courthouse and getting married and then consummating the damn thing so we can't even get it annulled?
I mean, I'm not even religious, and Xavier, if anything, is probably Protestant, but facts shall not get in the way of my righteous indignation!
