Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
The judge’s eyes bug out of his head when we arrive, visibly shocked by the difference in our ages. But neither one of us cares. We face each other and I tilt my head all the way back, so I can stare up into the eyes of my man. My lover, my husband.
The Daddy I didn’t know I needed but needed so desperately.
And I know he needs me back, profoundly, because it’s written in his tender expression.
I’m caught off guard when Draven produces rings from the pocket of his dress pants.
“Where did you get those?” I breathe in awe. “When?”
“It’s a good thing you take long showers,” he chuckles. “There’s a jewelry store on the same block as our building.” He slides the gold band on to my finger, and I do the same for him, Draven dipping his chin in relief when they’re the perfect fit. “I couldn’t marry the most incredible girl in the world without a ring.”
“I love you so much,” I whisper.
We kiss to seal our union, and I leap into his arms with a laugh, wrapping my legs around his hips and nuzzling my face into the slope of his neck. With one hand supporting my backside and the other on the back of my head, Draven carries me from the courthouse through a sea of judgment that we acknowledge to each other with a wry smile.
“What do you say we have a mini honeymoon?”
I lay a long, dreamy kiss on his mouth. “I say, take me anywhere. As long as we’re together.”
He walks in the direction of downtown, just as the sun is beginning to dip low in the sky. “You never have to worry about that, Claire. Never.”
Chapter Twelve
Draven
As soon as humanly possible, I’m going to bring my new wife on a proper honeymoon. Florence. Honolulu. The Swiss Alps. Wherever she wants to go. For now, however, while I’m still tied up in Tartine and we only have the night to celebrate our marriage, I settle for bringing her to a carnival. Carrying her through the city, I noticed the lights on the far edge of the metropolis and continue walking in that direction, content to have her wrapped around me.
We reach the carnival as darkness falls and I buy us two tickets, bringing her inside.
Other men pass by me envying what I carry in my arms. Openly.
They physically sag under the weight of their lack.
It’s right there on their jealous faces how much they wish they had a glorious, loving little creature staring up at them with worshipful eyes, but they can’t. And they don’t. Because she’s one of a kind. All mine. Mine to love and spoil and cherish for the rest of my life.
Thing is, I’m looking at her the same way she’s looking at me.
In reverence.
Not for the first time, I wonder how I got so fortunate.
To call this girl my wife? To be given the honor of providing for her?
Christ, I can’t wait for the rest of this life. It’s a golden path that was nothing but gray before she walked into the kitchen at Tartine.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, rubbing a circle onto her back and staring down a man who looked a little too longingly at Claire’s bare thighs. Quickly, he averts his gaze. “You haven’t eaten since that apple tart this morning.”
“Mmm.” She wrinkles her nose at me. “I think I’m spoiled. Nothing else sounds good, except for your cooking.”
“Our cooking,” I correct her. “You’re the special ingredient.”
“That’s true,” she says, primly tossing her hair. My girl is feeling playful. “I think I’ll just do a cotton candy. I’ve never had one and they look so pretty.”
“You’ve never had cotton candy?”
She shakes her head.
With a hitch in my chest, I carry her in the direction of the concessions. “You’re going to get whatever you want from now on, Claire.”
“Dessert for dinner, even!”
“Damn right.”
She’s in such good spirits, I try to put her upbringing out of my head, but it’s impossible to ignore what she’s been through. Who could lay hands on this sweetheart in anger? Who could yell at her and deprive her of anything? Couldn’t they see she was unique and loving and crafted by angels? “Is there any chance your father and stepmother will come looking for you?”
“No,” she whispers, kissing my cheeks, in turn. “They’re too lazy. And they wouldn’t even know where to begin looking. Please don’t worry, Draven.”
“I will worry for my wife. That’s my job.”
“Not tonight.” She presses her smile against the side of my face until I return it. “Your only job right now is to have fun. We’re celebrating!”
I procure a giant pink cotton candy for Claire, carrying her through the sea of people while she tucks fingerfuls of spun sugar into her mouth, humming happily at the taste.