Page 99 of Dr. Fellow

I laugh, not even bothering to cover his eyes as they rake over my wedding dress. We’ve never done anything traditionally, so why start now?

“Down boy,” I tease, shooting Cass an apologetic glance before returning my focus to my husband. “They’re happy tears, I promise.”

Walker lets out an audible exhale, but the worry from his stubble-covered face doesn’t dissipate. He leans in and quietly says, “I intend to tell you just how incredible you look, but give me a second.”

Turning to Cass, he asks, “Do you mind giving us a few minutes? Parker is outside the door and wants to speak to you as well.”

“Um.” She sticks her tongue in her cheek and furrows her brow. “Okay? Did something happen?”

Walker says no, but his somber expression tells a different story.

Once we’re alone, we settle on the baby-blue velvet settee across the room, my body draped over his. I lean my head against his chest carefully, not wanting to get any of the ten layers of foundation on his crisp, white shirt.

“Caroline and Claire are going to be so pissed that you ruined the dress reveal,” I offer, trying to diffuse his mood.

“I’m pissed that I ruined the dress reveal,” he grumbles, tilting my chin to meet his gaze. “You look stunning, and this isn’t how I wanted it to happen. Trust me.”

“How did you want it to happen?”

A wistful smile forms on his lips. “With me holding back tears while you walked down the aisle.”

“Yeah, right. You don’t cry,” I argue, trying to imagine him blubbering like those wedding videos you see on social media.

He laughs and takes my hands in his, intertwining our fingers and placing them in my lap. “You make me feel a lot of things for the first time, little devil.”

A surge of emotion flows through me as he squeezes my hand affectionately. Walker may be a broody, serious man on the outside, but he has this side to him that’s open and pliant, like he’s soft for only me.But right now it’s like he’s warring with two versions of himself. The one that he’s let me see over the past few months, and the one that he’s had to adapt from a life of disappointment.

“What happened?” I ask quietly, looking away because I can’t bring myself to face him when the other shoe drops.

I can hear his hard and obvious swallow. “Remember how Beau needed to get an extra cummerbund from Parker’s house because he lost his?”

“Yeah?” I reply, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease.

This is about the formal dress code?

Beau could come to the wedding wearing sweatpants and his cat-covered scrub cap for all I care—it’s really not that big of a deal.

“When he got there, he found something on the doorstep of thehouse . . .”

I pull back to meet his dark-brown eyes. “I didn’t shit on Parker’s doorstep, I promise. In January, I totally would have. But we’ve come around.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” His jaw is still tight but he lets out a laugh. “But the package on the doorstep was actually filled with documents.”

“Okay . . .”

“Legal marriage documents from Nevada,” he adds.

My lips tilt to the floor as I try to understand. “Why would we use Parker and Cassidy’s address? I barely even know my own address.”

Walker drags his gaze over my body with a pained expression, like it’s the last time he’s ever going to see me. When he finally focuses again, he stares for what feels like an eternity before saying, “Because we didn’t actually get married that night. They did.”

I can feel all of the blood drain from my face as my heart tumbles to my feet.

That can’t be right.

The text messages were sent to Walker’s phone number—not Parker’s. Why would the venue send them to him if we weren’t the ones to get married?

“Are you sure?” I challenge, not wanting him to be right. “I could totally see drunk me thinking that it would be funny to put their names down on the certificate instead of ours.”

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