Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
I can’t put my finger on why his reply makes me shift uncomfortably in my seat. This is a real marriage. Sure, we’re doing it for a reason that likely makes no sense to anyone but us, but we’re going to be married. And despite Donovan’s insistence that I still go get my dick wet anytime the mood strikes, I have no plans on following through. Does that mean it’s going to be a long-ass year? Abso-fucking-lutely. But having sex with someone when I’m married to Donovan feels wrong, especially with everything he went through with that cheating asshole.
Donovan parks in front of a tiny white chapel with a rainbow painted on the front window.
“Do they perform a lot of queer weddings here?”
“I don’t know if a lot, but they advertised for it, so I figured it was a good bet.”
This time, I don’t argue when he parks out front because really, there’s no use.
Donovan grabs the crutches from the back seat, then comes around and opens my door. He holds his hand out, and I let him pull me to my feet. “My husband is totally romantic.” I waggle my brows playfully, and he just smirks and shakes his head.
Donovan keeps pace with me until we reach the door, and then he pulls it open. A white woman with freckles is standing at a table inside. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes. Donovan Carter and Eric Markham,” D answers.
“You did the sign-and-go package, right?” She looks at us.
I frown when Donovan says, “Yeah.”
“Sign and go?” I ask.
“Yeah, it was the quickest one they had. I figured since…” He glances at the woman like he’s not sure what to say. “We’re planning our real ceremony next year. Right now, we’re just excited to be husbands, so I thought the quickie would work.” I try not to smile. It’s so cute how he gets about breaking the rules. Does he think she’s a secret wedding spy who’ll turn us in for not being romantically in love? “Is that okay?” Donovan asks, bringing me back to the topic at hand.
I try not to let show my…disappointment? It doesn’t make any sense, but I’m feeling a little bummed that it’s going to be such a quick thing. It feels wrong when I consider how close Donovan and I are. On the other hand, this is a marriage of convenience, and weddings cost money. I’m his unemployed future husband, so it’s smart we’re spending as little as possible.
“Eric?” Donovan asks.
“Yeah. It’s fine. Sorry. My ankle is hurting.” A small fib. It is hurting, but that’s not why I’m distracted.
“Oh shit. You can have another pain pill. Here.” He begins to open his cross-body bag, but I shake him off.
“Nah, I’ll do that on the way home.”
He doesn’t argue, but he’s looking at me as though unsure he believes me.
I give my attention to the woman again. “So…what do you need from us?”
She leads us to another table, where the three of us sit down. Her name is Heather, and she talks about how happy she is for us before handing over a list of documents. Donovan got everything together before we left, so all I have to do is pass over my ID. The weight in my stomach gets heavier and heavier while she goes through each paper we need to sign and Donovan and I both do it. This is…wrong. Not because I’m marrying my best friend, but because it’s like I’m buying a car or something. It feels very contractual and official rather than a special moment with my person.
“Hey.” Donovan reaches over and rests his hand on my neck, his fingers drawing circles in the hair at my nape. “You sure?”
“Yes,” I answer, and I truly am. Again, I just thought it would be more us than this. Which is dumb. This is for medical insurance, so why am I being all whiney about it? “I’m very sure, husband,” I add, and it’s kinda fun to play around with calling him that.
“You’re so silly.”
“That’s why you’re marrying me.”
“You guys are so cute,” Heather tells us.
“I know, right?” The woman isn’t wrong.
A few minutes later, we’re finished signing and she’s letting us know they’ll process the papers, everything will come in the mail, and…that’s it. We’re married. We’re not even having a ceremony. I knew there wouldn’t be rings, we talked about that, and it seemed silly to waste the money, but now that we’re here, I’m regretting that decision. Donovan should have a ring, and we should have had a ceremony.
I’m distracted from that thought by Donovan licking his lips. There’s a softness to his brown eyes that always helps settle my nerves. My stomach feels fluttery, which I figure has to be a normal reaction to getting married regardless of the situation.