“Congratulations, you two,” he says with a grin. “From the looks of that kiss, you’ve got a nice, long marriage ahead of you.”
I should be happy that we pulled this off so convincingly, that my acting skills apparently came through. But the only problem is that for one horrifyingly glorious second, Iwasn’tacting.
And that wasn’t part of the plan.
Chapter six
Theo
KissingCorajustmightbe the closest to heaven on earth I’ll ever get. The feel of her head cradled in my hand, her soft lips against mine, her hands fisting—fisting—my shirt. Did she mean to do that? Was it for show? When she’d pulled back, her cheeks were quite possibly the most adorable shade of bright pink that exists in the universe.
I spend the first half of our car ride resisting the urge to bring my fingertips to my lips, clinging to the memory. Cora is chatting away, somewhat forcefully, and I get the idea she’s trying to push the awkwardness out of the cab. Talk over the embarrassment, get over the elephant in the room.
That we really just did this.
We’re married.
And there’s no going back now.
When I pull into the local grocery store parking lot, Cora shoots me a quizzical glance from the passenger seat.
“My bride wanted cake, remember?” I say with a grin before hopping out of the truck.
She hops out as well, smiling up at me as we walk inside and beeline to the bakery section. It’s not large, and it’s certainly not fancy, but like any grocery store, it has a variety of cakes set out on tables and behind display cases.
Cora purses her lips in thought as she peruses the choices.
“Are we trying to stay on theme?” I ask, glancing at the wedding cake selection—although those seem to be on the pricier side. Figures.
She doesn’t even look up. Simply shakes her head. “I’m more interested in flavor than festivities,” she answers.
The corner of my mouth quirks up without my permission. God, she’s cute. I mean, she’s always been cute, but something about standing in a grocery store at 5:30 p.m. on a Monday night about to buy her a cake for our wedding has my insides turning to goo.
“This one,” she decides, grabbing a double chocolate cake, the plastic crinkling under her grasp.
I nod in agreement, and we head to the register. When Cora reaches for her purse at the self-checkout counter, I practically elbow her out of the way.
“Theo,I’mthe one who suggested cake,” she protests.
“And I’m the one who just vowed to take care of you for the rest of our lives,” I retort.
Her eyes widen ever so slightly.
I pull out my wallet, swiping my credit card. “Or at least until the United States no longer considers you a national threat,” I add.
Cora giggles, putting me at ease.
Within minutes, we’re back in the car, and soon we’re pulling up to my house. Cora’s four-wheel SUV sits in the driveway; we’d met here after work before carpooling to thecourthouse. I grab the cake from the center console and head inside, placing it on the kitchen countertop.
Cora stands awkwardly in the kitchen entrance, glancing around, even though she’s been here before. I glance at the clock on the wall. In order to make our court appointment, we weren’t able to get dinner at the ranch like we usually do.
“How do you feel about cake for dinner?” I ask, although I do have a frozen pizza if she feels like something more appropriate.
But her eyes light up, and then her smile follows suit. “That sounds fantastic.” She steps forward, taking a seat at one of the stools at my kitchen counter while I pop open the plastic cake container and search for plates and forks.
Cora rests her elbows on the counter, her chin in her hands, watching me cut two slices. “You know, this is the perfect way to celebrate our nuptials.”
My eyes flash to hers as I scoot her plate toward her.
