Page 22 of It's Holy Matrimony, Baby

“You play?”

“Used to. You don’t remember?”

“Did we talk about that?”

“Not in any depth.” He takes another corner onto a different road. “But you did keep grabbing my hand that night. Told me more than a few times that I had musician’s fingers. And there was something about how calluses really turned you on.” He hums, and I get a glimpse of a self-satisfied smirk.

“I actually told you that?” I’ve never told anyone that. Liv knows I have a thing for arms, but then what girl doesn’t? But my ridiculous thing for hands with agile digits and rough surfaces... the things he did to me that night, where he touched me with those gloriously dexterous fingers... I sink down further into the leather and bite my lip as longing floods me. If he moves one of his hands from the steering wheel to my knee, I’ll probably melt clean away.

“Don’t worry.” He leans toward me and winks. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Is it? How many secret weapons did I give him that night? How does he remember so much when I can’t recall what we talked about or how we even met with any real detail? When I try, he’s always beside me. I go back to staring out the window. On my way out to see where Sophie Valentine found her start I made sure to pay attention to landmarks, but I don’t recognize anything now. “Is this the way back to the hotel?”

“In a round about manner.” He shrugs, taking another turn.

At least here there are people and stores. Hopefully in a few short minutes I won’t have to be alone with him anymore. Because as much as I want it to be uncomfortable, and as much as I want to be mad at him for stringing this situation out, I’m struggling. He could talk anyone into anything, including me. Clearly. I married him, which sure as hell wasn’t my idea, so it must have been his. “How did you trick me into marrying you?”

“How did I...” He pulls the truck into a parking spot outside of a club, no, a store of some sort. Unclipping his seat belt, he stares at me. “You think I was the one who decided we should get married?”

“Well, who else would it be?” I can’t believe he would try to bounce the blame.

“It’s never occurred to you that you might have been the instigator, has it?” There’s genuine curiosity in his voice as he continues to study me.

“Of course not.” I undo my own belt. “Why would I do that?”

“You’re right.” He turns away to open his door and climb out of the truck. “It must have been me. Clearly that’s the part of the night I don’t remember.”

I follow after him, meeting him at the front of the cab. “So you’re admitting it?”

“What?”

“That you tricked me into marrying you?”

The muscles at his temples move with the clenching of his jaw. Glancing over his shoulder, he stares at the store; Mayhem Avenue, according to the signage. “I tell you what, Beck. We’ll make a deal.”

“What deal would that be?”

“You stick around for the next hour and a half while I take care of these lessons and then I’ll drive you back to the hotel and give you my confession.”

I need to call my lawyer. If there’s any chance Nox’s confessing to tricking me into marrying him will hurry a resolution, then I’m going to stick like glue for the next hour and a half. If not, I’ll leave and go back to the hotel. He’ll be focused on teaching anyway.

“Otherwise the Lakeside is about three blocks that way.” He points in the direction we were heading before we stopped here. “And I’ll be over once I’m finished working. We’ll get some dinner and talk about how to make this adjustment easier on you.”

I don’t need an easier adjustment. I need this mess behind me. The quicker the better. “I’ll stay.”

“Okay,” he says, and he seems happy with my decision while we walk into the music store.

No, it’s a club. Or perhaps bookshop. Or is it some kind of café? Liv would have a fit if she stepped foot in this place. But it’s almost heavenly.

“Is that coffee I smell?” I run my fingers along the books stacked on shelves that reach to the roof at the front of the store. I inhale the aroma of roasted beans and swoon over the bins of CDs and vinyl. Maybe I died the moment I walked through the door. Perhaps my fear of being kidnapped was real, and now I’m happily floating in heaven because the man I accidently married murdered me after he kidnapped me. And yes, sometimes even Liv calls me a drama queen. But I swear it was only because he threw me with the comment about the ring.

“Feels like home, doesn’t it?” He leans over my shoulder and whispers in my ear as he drags a vinyl out of the bin and hands it to me. “I remember how much you said you liked Violent Nation.”

The album in my hands is a one off. It’s rare. I turn it around in my hands and study the label for one of my all-time favorite rock bands. The iconic blue and pearl industrial logo on the label is crowded with six signatures. I can’t even begin to... “It’s true. I’m dead. I must be.”

“You’re not dead. But we’ll need to come and have a look after. I’m already late.” Nox chuckles as he takes my arm and guides me through the maze of bins and shelves to the register. Besides the usual cashier stand is a long display case with cakes and cookies and sandwiches. Better, there’s a coffee machine.

“I need to buy this. And I need to buy coffee.” I pull my bag in front of me, so I can find my purse. “Actually, I need to make a phone call, so can I join you in a minute?” I glance down at the shelf under the register and there’s a Sophie Valentine CD with artwork I’ve never seen. A lone figure standing in profile against a backdrop that seems familiar. It has to be prior to her debuting on the radio. What if the guy on the cover is the same mystery boy Nox told me about earlier? I have to have it. “Or I could meander around here until you’re done.”

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