Page 44 of The Love Chase

“Dearly beloved,” Mr. Bob’s droning voice began, “We are gathered here today…”

I couldn’t help it—I tuned out what he was saying. The monotone, nasally voice was too much to handle, and the way Liam kept moving his thumb across my skin was making it impossible to focus. It was weird.

Liam and I had touched plenty in the past, holding hands in moments that called for it, like running away from the next farm over at midnight after we finished cow tipping and the farmer’s flashlight was coming through the field. Liam had held my hand to keep me upright as we sprinted across the farm to his car hiding in the trees.

We had hugged plenty too, and I’d had Liam’s arm around my shoulders in comfort before, like when he held me when my dad died, or after my first boyfriend broke up with me in high school, or when the kids picked on me at recess for being taller than all the other boys were at the time.

But none of that lit my insides ablaze like this tiny, minuscule touch. None of those touches were accompanied by the look on his face now.

Was he not listening to Mr. Bob either?

His droning was like white noise, at least until he turned to Jameson and said, “The rings, please.”

That snapped me out of it.

Mr. Bob handed me Liam’s ring first. Since this wedding wasn’t happening because of any true feelings between us, we had opted to recite the traditional wedding vows versus writing our own.

I wouldn’t ruin that type of experience, or waste writing such personal, love-filled words on someone who didn’t love me and would divorce me in a matter of months.

Traditional vows would suffice.

Mr. Bob had me repeat after him, and I tried to sound like I meant each word, but I felt like there was zero feeling in my voice. Could anyone else hear how empty the words sounded falling from my lips?

It was automatic when the vows were finished to slide the ring onto Liam’s finger. His hands were warm and calloused from years of farmwork and guitar playing.

Then Mr. Bob handed Liam my ring. He cleared his throat before repeating the words.

“I, Liam, take you, Emma, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

It might have been my imagination, but there was something infused into his voice as he said the words. It…sounded like he meant them. Liam slipped the ring over my finger, and I pressed my lips together to hold in a gasp. It was the first time I had seen it.

It was a pear-shaped emerald set on a stunning rose gold band. It somehow combined the flashiness Liam needed for showing me off to the world, with a certain dainty simplicity that fit me perfectly.

Bravo, Bridget. I only wished Liam had been the one to pick out my ring. It would have meant more to me.

“Then, by the power vested in me by the state of Iowa, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The audience burst into applause. Mr. Bob looked at Liam. “You may kiss your bride.”

At that simple sentence, the world fell out from under me.

My mind instantly started swirling incessantly, like a category five hurricane ripping down all my safety walls and leaving me bare before my husband.

Liam is my husband.

I thought for sure Liam would hate the idea of kissing me, that there would be uncertainty in his eyes as he stepped forward, that he would want to get it over with. We’d never crossed that line before, after all.

But as I looked up into those green eyes, I saw none of that. Instead, there was something strange, a certain heat or passion in his gaze that I’d never seen before.

Before I could suck in a breath, Liam pressed his lips to mine.

Liam

Iwas kissing Emma.

My wife.

Emma Beck was my wife, though I supposed it was Emma Walker now.

Why did the sound of that feel so right? I had never imagined my best friend would be my wife before now, so why did it suddenly feel like the entire world had finally aligned?

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