He exhales slowly. “Just stay close. Act like we’re together.”
“Together?”
“Yeah, like a couple. Getting married, like everyone else here.”
Before I can answer, he pulls me out of the booth and wraps an arm around my waist. He pulls me against his side. And I fucking melt. He’s at least a foot taller than my five-six. All thick, hard muscle and body heat. God, give me strength!
We move through the crowd. And he’s leaning on me a little, enough that I can tell he’s hurting.
“Smile,” he mutters.
“Excuse me?”
“Smile, like you’re in love.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Zak.”
I suck my teeth before reluctantly giving him my name. “Nadia.”
His arm tightens around me. “Pretty name.”
“Thanks. Now let go of me.”
“Can’t.”
A woman in a pink blazer approaches us, a tablet in hand. “IDs, please?”
Zak reaches into his jacket, pulls out his wallet, and hands her his ID. I fumble in my purse and hand over mine. She looks at both, typing on her tablet.
Zak’s gaze drops to my driver’s license still in her hand, and something passes through his gorgeous dark eyes.
“You live in Tahoe.”
“Yes, North Shore.”
He grins, eyes twinkling. “South Lake.”
I don’t have time to linger on the fact that we’re practically neighbors when the lady interrupts ourmomentwith a loud, chirped, “Perfect! You’re all set for the group ceremony. Just need a few signatures.”
She shoves her device at us. Zak signs without even reading. And when I hesitate, he nudges me.
“Sign.”
“I’m not…”
“Please.”
Ugh… I sign.
The woman beams. “Wonderful! The ceremony starts in five minutes. Just head over there.”
She points toward the main room where couples are gathering, and Zak pulls me in that direction.
“We’re not actually getting married,” I hiss.
He rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”
