"Wait until tomorrow when you have to convince your brother not to murder me."
"One disaster at a time."
Stone motioned to the marriage certificate. "Get copies. Multiple copies. One for your attorney, one for each of you, one in a safe deposit box."
"Romantic as always," I said.
"I'm practical. There's a difference." But then he did something unexpected—he smiled. Small, brief, but real. "Congratulations. Try not to screw it up."
"That's the most sentimental thing you've ever said."
"Don't get used to it."
We walked out of the courthouse into late afternoon sun. The chill air bit through my jacket, but Julia was warm against my side.
"Mrs. Vanetti," I said, testing out the name.
"That's going to take some getting used to."
"We have time."
"Do we?" The question was quiet, vulnerable.
I stopped on the courthouse steps, pulled her close. "We do. I promise."
"You can't promise that."
"Watch me." I kissed her forehead. "We survive Carlo's meeting tomorrow. We plan a wedding that catches a killer. We prove your father's murder wasn't my fault. And then we have the rest of our lives to figure out what being married actually means."
"When you put it that way, it sounds almost manageable."
"I'm an optimist."
"You're delusional."
"That too."
She laughed, and the sound loosened something in my chest. We'd gotten married in a courthouse with a borrowed ring and a judge who had another couple waiting. We were flying into danger tomorrow. Someone was actively trying to kill us.
But right now, standing on these steps with afternoon sun on our faces and a marriage license in my pocket, I felt something close to happiness.
"We should celebrate," Serenity said, coming up beside us. "Dinner? Drinks?"
"Both," Julia decided. "Definitely both."
"I know a place," Stone said. "Italian. Private room. Good security."
"After last night's restaurant incident, maybe somewhere less... shootable?" I suggested.
"Fair point." Stone considered. "My place, then. I'll order in. We can go over tomorrow's plan while you two pretend you're not terrified of meeting Carlo."
"I'm not pretending," Julia said. "I'm genuinely terrified."
"At least you're honest."
We piled into Stone's SUV—married couple in the back, witnesses up front. Surreal didn't begin to cover it.
Julia's phone buzzed. She glanced at it, tensed. "It's Silvio."
