“You probably need rings as well,” Nathan pipes up.
Candice elbows him in the side, but Jonah just says, “Don’t worry about that. I have it covered.”
For someone who found out he was getting married a few days ago, Jonah is very well prepared. He’s dependable. Solid. You could cling to him in a storm and know he wouldn’t let go.
We all head into the courtroom, and watch as two other couples get married before us. When it’s our turn, I take a deep breath, and link arms with Jonah as we walk towards the judge. The ceremony is short, and follows a standard script. It’s the polar opposite of how I imagined my wedding going when I was a little girl. I thought my future husband and I would write our own vows. I was planning tosingmine, for Christ’s sake. After we exchanged them, we’d be so wrapped up in kissing one another that it would just keep going and going and going.
Once the judge finishes, we sign the license.
“I didn’t realize your name was Winsome,” Jonah murmurs beside me. “I figured you were a Winifred.”
“Nope,” I say, signing my name with a flourish. “Winsome Grant. I still can’t believe my parents really thought that was a good name for a baby.”
“Doesn’t it mean charming or innocent or something like that?”
“Yep. Talk about expectations.”
Jonah shakes his head and it sounds like he curses under his breath. Then, he takes my hand in his and quickly slips a silver ring onto my ring finger.
“You made this?” I ask, examining it. The craftsmanship is impeccable and it shines in the light.
“It was easy,” he says, shrugging. “I had everything I needed at home already, and I’m used to working with steel. If it needs to be resized, just let me know. Here.”
He hands me a second ring, and I put it on his ring finger, almost as if this is a real marriage, with real feelings and until death do us part and all that.
“We didn’t do all that practice for nothing,” he murmurs.
And then myhusbandis kissing me, his lips gently feathering over mine, teasing me with soft touches and the whisper of what we shared last night. I reach out and cup the back of his head, pulling him closer, and then deepening the kiss. I’ve posed for enough photos to know that we’re making it look good—look real. I asked Candice to take photos of us just in case the validity of our marriage came into question.
But honestly, I’m not having to fake much. Just like last night, the taste and feel of Jonah makes me think only one thing: more.
I want more.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,”I chant.
I’ve already tried to call my cousin’s personal office line twice, and I’m hoping the third time’s the charm. After the wedding, Jonah and I drove to his house, and we’re currently sitting in the kitchen trying to get everything sorted out with my trust fund.
“Adam Stanton, how can I help?”
“Adam, it’s Winnie. I’ve got news for you.” I feel a bit breathless all of a sudden, and place a hand on my chest. “I got married.”
“Congratulations, Win! Who’s the lucky guy? And why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?” he jokes.
“It happened sort of fast. I’ve been spending some time in Montana, and we met and hit it off right away,” I say.
“I wondered where you were. I figured Richard and Melissa were blowing things out of proportion with their posts online. Glad to hear you’re safe. But the guy? He’s good?”
I glance at Jonah to see his reaction, as my cousin is on speakerphone. Jonah just raises a brow at me.
“Yeah. He’s good,” I say honestly. “Great actually.”
“Good, good,” Adam says. “If you send over proof of marriage, I’ll get you access to the trust ASAP.”
“Perfect.” The knot of anxiety that’s been in my stomach since I left Alabama starts to ease, just a bit. This might actually work out.
“I have to ask, though, Winnie,” Adam says, his voice concerned. “Why now? Are you in trouble?”
“You know my parents.”
