Jay felt a traitorous blush rise up her throat. “That’s not going to work on me.”
He nipped gently at her fingertips, letting his eyes drop to where her breasts swelled rather indecently over the low neck of the dress. “It’s not?”
She yanked her hand back, folding it into her skirts as he tugged her towards the city hall building with a grin as her face overheated beneath the spring sunshine.
“Congratulations,” Arthur said, as they approached. “Jay, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she said, adjusting her grip on the flowers. She wondered what he was thinking, how much of their interactions he had seen. This had to be strange for him.
“She always does.” Nicholas gave her hand a squeeze.
Standing between these two men, with Nicholas holding tightly onto her hand, made her feel very shy and very young. Which was ridiculous. She was almost thirty-two. She wasn’t all that much younger than Arthur.
“Thank you, Nick.”
Nicholas tilted his head towards the doors. “Shall we?”
“Yes, let’s.” Arthur gestured in front of him. “You two go ahead. I’ll get the door for you.”
Jay shifted her grip to Nicholas’s arm, which was firm and solid beneath the wool suit. She could feel his heart pounding against her forearm which surprised her. He didn’t appear outwardlynervous.
She was pretty sure she did.
He glanced down and looped his other arm around her waist. When she felt him casually stroke her hip through the thin, rustling silk, she felt so lightheaded that the officiant’s words seemed to come at her through a tunnel when he steppedforward to greet them. She had already forgotten his name, and he had to tell her three times where to sign her own.
“Just put your name here,” he said, a little exasperatedly. “Right on the X.”
She gripped the pen extra hard to steady her shaking hand. Nicholas’s signature was right above hers and it surprised her how messy his handwriting was, given how precise he was about everything else. Hers was the stiff cursive she’d been forced to learn all the way back in grade school, when they were still being fed the lie that it would be used in college.
Nicholas, who was four years younger, had never been taught cursive in school.
“Good afternoon,” the officiant said. “We are gathered here today to join Nicholas Beaucroft and Justine Varens in the institution of marriage. Do you, Nicholas, take Justine to be your lawful wedded wife?”
“I do.” His pale eyes burned like gas flames, lit up by the high beveled windows. She remembered him telling her that he was hard to read but his solemn expression still surprised her. He didn’t look like a man who was on the verge of getting everything he wanted.
“And do you, Justine,” the officiant said, turning towards her, “take Nicholas to be your lawful wedded husband?”
“Yes,” she choked, widening her eyes so the tears forming there wouldn’t spill over. “I do.”
“And do you, Arthur Hartwell, give your consent that these two be married on this day?”
“I do,” Arthur said.
“Then by the authority given to me by the State of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Nicholas, you may kiss your bride.”
That was all the prompting he needed to lean in and give her the sort of kiss that would have raised eyebrows in a church, nearly forcing her backwards in his eagerness. Jay fell into it, until she remembered where they were, and that her boss was standingright fucking there.
“Oh,” she said, pulling away, and covering her chafed and reddened lips with her hand.
“Sir,” the officiant said, stumbling a little over his words as he turned to direct his speech to Arthur, who had politely averted his gaze to a placard announcing the date of the building’s construction, “it is now my privilege to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Beaucroft.”
“Nice to meet you, Jay,” he said, and the cheesy joke diffused the tension, making her laugh with weak relief after the jarring erasure of her maiden name.
After some final paperwork and a clumsy shaking of hands all around, they were free to leave. She was married.I’m his.She looked down at the strangled flowers in her hands: her trembling grip had reduced them to wilted stems. She couldn’t believe that the fight was over so quickly.
Or that it had been so bloodless.
“That was faster than I thought it would be.” Arthur caught up to them at the door, echoing her thoughts. “Since I already told my wife I would be late, I would love to take you two out to dinner—although I’d understand completely if you would prefer to celebrate alone tonight.”
