QUINN
I’d never spenta lot of time daydreaming about my wedding.
As a little girl, I’d never played dress-up with a makeshift veil on my head crafted out of a dish towel and pretended to be a bride. But even if I had, I definitely wouldn’t have imagined Ford McKenzie as my groom. Nor, in my wildest dreams, would I have imagined him strolling up the steps of Bayhaven town hall toward me and looking obscene in his dark gray suit pants, white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to display his drool-worthy forearms, all topped off with a freaking vest.
Looking good had never been Ford’s problem. It was effortless for him, much like everything else, regardless of whether he was wearing his usual uniform of a T-shirt and jeans or his actual uniform at the firehouse.
But this? This was downright unfair.
Especially when the memory of our kiss still bubbled under my skin, haunting me every single second since I’d walked out the doors of One Night Stan’s.
“Did you wear this hoping for a better kiss than last night’s?” he asked as he came to a stop directly in front of me, his voice a low rumble that absolutely scrambled my insides.
“What?” I shook my head, forcing myself out of my Ford stupor, and glanced down at my outfit. I wasn’t wearing anything special. Just an old white sundress covered with tiny lavender flowers that I’d pulled straight from my closet because I wasn’t going to buy something new for this farce. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it.” He allowed his gaze to sweep over me from head to toe, his thumb brushing a slow path across his bottom lip as he looked his fill.
That simple move drew my attention to his mouth, which was the last thing I needed, considering the reminders of what he’d done to me with it last night had been stomping around in my brain like a marching band since it’d happened.
“But I also can’t promise I’m not going to take full advantage of that first kiss with you as my wife.” He lifted his eyes to mine as he said the last two words, his gaze heated, and there was no good explanation for the way my stomach dipped and swooped like I was on a roller coaster.
This wasFord. The guy who practically subsisted on one-night stands. Whatever we had between us wasn’t going to change that. And no matter what kind of feelings he managed to bring out in me on top of the ever-present desire to strangle him, I needed to remember that.
The reason I was here—the entire purpose behind my going through with this insane plan in the first place—was for the clinic. To realize my dream and to become the doctor the people of Starlight Cove needed and deserved. One they could count on.
“You ready?” he asked, tipping his head toward the town hall doors.
I absolutely was not.
This was, without a doubt, the dumbest thing I had ever done in my life. Which, granted, wasn’t all that difficult to accomplish, considering my history of never stepping even a toe off the safe path. But I was determined to see this through. Once I made up my mind, I was locked in. I planted my feet like a tree and refused to budge. This would be no different.
I just had to keep reminding myself that this was only a means to an end. There would be nothing permanent about my marriage to Ford.
I took a deep inhale before blowing it out slowly. “As I’ll ever be.”
In Maine, there was no waiting period to receive a marriage license, and I didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. It made everything easier for us, but how many other fake couples had made an appointment for a false wedding just like we had? Had filled out the same paperwork, walked the same steps down the empty corridor, stood in front of the same judge with no intention of their vows being real at all?
It took six minutes. Three hundred and sixty seconds until, suddenly, I stood facing Ford, about to become his wife. Everything up until now had been a blur, just a low hum of voices in the back of my mind. But, as if my brain knew this was the important part, it tuned in as the judge spoke.
“The contract of marriage is not to be entered into lightly, but thoughtfully and seriously and with a deep realization of its obligations and responsibilities. If anyone can show just cause why this couple should not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”
She paused for a brief moment, but since the two people standing in as witnesses were town employees who didn’t know us from Adam, we were in the clear.
The judge turned toward Ford. “Ford, will you take Quinn to be your wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor her, and keep her, forsaking all others, for so long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” he said without hesitation.
“Quinn.” She turned to me with a smile. “Will you take Ford to be your wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honor him, and keep him, forsaking all others, for so long as you both shall live?”
I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience when I responded on autopilot, “I do.”
Ford seemed to have no such hang-ups as he looked down at me with a grin and waggled his eyebrows. Meanwhile, I was attempting to swallow down this lump of nerves that had lodged itself in my throat.
“Please join hands and repeat after me,” the judge said. “I, Ford McKenzie, take you, Quinn Cartwright, as my lawfully wedded wife. I promise to love, honor, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”
Ford must’ve read the look on my face as the pure terror I was feeling, because he squeezed my hands twice and tipped his lips up into a smirk. “I, Ford McKenzie, take you, Quinn Cartwright, as my lawfully wedded wife. I promise to love, honor, and cherish you—and get you as many late-night emotional support coffees as you need so you don’t turn into an insufferable harpy—for as long as we both shall live.”
At his words, I pressed my lips into a thin line, meeting the amusement in his eyes with a glare of my own. Oh, he wanted to play? I could play.
