Turning to the hanging rail, I start to finger through my clothes, waiting for something to jump out and shout at me to wear it, but nothing does. Sighing, I reverse my path up the closet and assess each item again until I settle on a white frilly collared shirt and super poofy net skirt, with white knee socks and chunky black platform trainers.
Once I’m dressed, Knight quickly selects jeans and a black T-shirt, then takes my hand and tows me back into the bathroom, where he blow-dries my hair and styles it into space buns that he decorates with tiny black-and-white bows and ribbons.
Once he’s finished, he steps back again, his expression shrewd and assessing, his arms crossed over his chest while he watches me put on my makeup. It isn’t until I’m putting the last of my makeup away that I remember being ready means we’re going out, and Knight wants us to tell everyone, not only that we’re together, but that we got married.
An angry swarm of butterflies starts to flutter around my stomach. Telling our friends we’ve impulsively gotten married after a couple of days of knowing each other feels daunting. I saw how Betty reacted to Knight saying he and I were a couple and that we were moving in together. Telling her that we got married is going to be twice as bad.
She’ll think I’m insane. Etta will think I’m insane. Hell, I think I’m insane, so how on earth am I supposed to convince our friends we’ve done the right thing when I’m honestly not sure that we have?
Completely oblivious to the crisis I’m having, Knight takes my hand and leads me out of the bathroom and downstairs. He’s not dragging me, and his hold is gentle, but there’s something about the way he’s moving that doesn’t leave any room for me to protest. His steps are full of purpose, and unless I throw anabsolute fit, I’m not sure there’s any way to stop us leaving the house.
“Where are we going?” I ask, feeling as nervous as I think I sound.
“The Barnetts. We can tell them the good news, then you can arrange when you’ll start work,” he says calmly, placidly…perfectly reasonably.
“She’s going to want to talk to me,” I tell him, trying to make my voice sound ominous.
“Okay,” he replies simply.
“Last time she asked to talk to me, you lost your shit and threw me over your shoulder,” I remind him.
“Once we inform her we’re married now, I doubt she’ll try to convince you to stay in her home or try to dismiss me,” he says, with a steeliness in his voice that makes my skin prickle.
“And if she does?”
“Then we’ll leave.”
“She’s my friend.”
“Then I’m sure she’ll be happy for us,” he says pointedly.
I try to swallow past the lump in my throat, but my mouth feels dry, unlike my palms, which feel clammy and damp. I’m nervous, both to admit how crazy my life has gotten to my friend and boss, but also because I’m worried Knight might turn into a caveman and carry me out of there again if Betty says anything that triggers him.
Opening the garage door, Knight leads me to his car instead of the ATV, opening the door and lifting me into my seat before I can ask why. Out of instinct, I reach for the seat belt, but Knight gently pushes my hands down and fastens the belt across me, running his knuckles over my breasts more than once under the guise of making sure the strap is flat and securely fastened.
Closing my door, he circles the car, then climbs into the driver’s seat. Starting the engine, he taps on the screen of hiscell, and the garage door begins to rise. Once it’s fully open, he drives forward and away from the house.
Instead of heading across the open expanse of grass toward the trees and the fence that separates Knight’s property and the Barnetts, he turns onto the graveled drive, following it down to the road, before turning right and toward the main entrance to the Barnetts’ land.
My heart beats faster and faster the closer we get to the Barnetts’ home. It’s Saturday, so unlike the last time I was here, most, if not all, of the Barnett clan will be here. Individually, they’re all great people, but en masse, they’re a little intimidating, simply due to the sheer number of them.
There are a lot of cars parked outside the house when Knight slows to a stop. “Maybe we should come back another day. It looks like everyone is home,” I suggest.
Not speaking, Knight ignores my suggestion and kills the engine, opening his door and climbing out. Rounding the car to my side, he opens my door, unfastens my seat belt, then boldly lifts me out of the car, placing me on my feet in front of him.
“Why are you upset?” he asks.
“I’m not upset. I’m nervous. Betty is my friend and my boss. Plus, this is crazy.” I gesture between the two of us. “We barely know each other, and we got married. It’s insane.”
“There’s nothing insane about this. I’m yours, and you’re mine. Why would we bother wasting time when we could just be together and get on with our life?” he says so…rationally that he makes me want to scream.
“Knight,” I say with a tired sigh.
Instead of speaking again, Knight takes my hand and tugs me away from the car and toward the front door. When we reach the door, I brace myself, but instead of lifting his fist to knock, Knight reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. He thenlifts my hand and slips a ring onto my finger, pushing it down until it sits above my wedding band.
“What is that?” I ask, pulling my hand from Knight so I can see.
Positioned on my finger is the most stunning ring I’ve ever seen in my life. A black diamond cut into the shape of a pear is mounted in the center with white diamonds cascading down the sides of the band, all set in gleaming white gold.
