Page 25 of It's Holy Matrimony, Baby

CHAPTER SEVEN

You may kiss your bride.

Unless your bride hates you.

Or is mentally unstable.

Or has no idea how you ended up married in the first place.

NOX

Beck’s sitting on the floor of the booth, bare legs stretched out and eyes closed. An empty coffee cup sits beside her right hip. She hums softly to herself, headphones covering her ears. The tune is as familiar and sweet as an old friend. Bars and beats. A story from summers long gone.

Careful not to disturb her, I close the door to the booth and drop to the floor. The booths aren’t that big, but I rest my back against the opposite wall and stretch out as much as possible while I pick up the second set of headphones and put them on.

Sophie could always sing the hell out of a song, turn lyrics into magic. We’d worked so hard to get this one spot-on. Her voice and my words. It was never quite perfect though. Couldn’t get it right. And then she was gone, and so was I. Both of us on the road, on tour. Sophie with her brother, me with my band. Fuck, those were some crazy times.

The last notes of the song disappear quietly. Another replaces it. It’s been a decade since the last time my fingers worked this particular piece, but I remember it like it’s imbedded in my muscles. Closing my eyes, I rest my head against the wall and let the words float in my mind, like they’re scrolling across a screen. Can’t believe the shit I used to string together. Couldn’t do it now. Wouldn’t know where to begin.

Life didn’t give me lemons. It gave me fucking oranges. And no matter how much tequila I choose to throw back, there’s no damn sunrise to go with it. Just more bullshit. Like the girl opposite me.

She’s damned beautiful. Especially when she smiles. Her soul practically shines. But she acts like a bona fide princess too, and girls like her never consider their impact. Or they do, which is worse. Like Lena did when she started pushing to get married, so she could get her hands on my assets. Can’t believe I almost gave in to her. I proposed to her. Almost let her set a date. If I hadn’t caught her sleeping with her boss... I would never have had mom’s ring on me when I met Beck. I’d never have married her that night in Vegas. When she smiled at me I wouldn’t have taken that seat beside her. When she suggested we go out and have fun, I would have told her I needed to go back to my hotel room. And I would never have put my hands on her when she told me she wanted me to kiss her either.

Beck’s not Lena. She’s different. This whole situation is different. Beck’s my angel. Unwilling and unwitting, she’s still going to be my saving grace. This deal with Liv is going to fix everything. Three months is nothing. Not when I’ll finally be able to put this shit behind me. Not when it means Finn and Dean and Jack can stop paying for my mistakes. Three months with Beck isn’t a hardship either. She’s gorgeous, sweet when she’s not being dramatic. We connected in a way that I haven’t been able to put out of my head since.

Something warm flutters across my forehead. Her breath. I open my eyes. She’s crouched over me, one hand on the wall near my shoulder, the other close to my opposite ear. She’s not touching me, but we’re near enough that I can see her pupils dilate and the creases in her bottom lip. Raising my hand, I graze her cheek. Silky skin blushes under my touch.

I haven’t forgotten our night together, haven’t forgotten one single detail.

The tip of her tongue glosses her lips as they part. My back comes off the wall, bringing us closer, and her fingers skim the top of my jaw. I swallow the spit that pools on my tongue as I watch her eyes widen. My fingers buzz with energy, they twitch with the need to touch her. I exhale slowly and focus on my heartbeat, try to make it quiet. Can’t kiss her. Not what she wants. Focus on the future.

Plump lips press against mine, and my pulse freezes.

She pulls away and her gaze must mirror mine. Didn’t mean to do that. Didn’t expect it. It’s not enough.Want more. It stretches between us like a guitar string wound too tight.

Our lips slam together, moving against each other as her knees hit the carpet beside my hips. My hands find her thighs and slide up to her ass to pull her onto my lap as she opens her mouth for me to deepen the kiss. Her tongue meets mine, as desperate as her grip on my shoulder. She’s a caffeine jolt. Need this.

Smoothing my palm up her lower back, I grip her neck and explore her sweet mouth. Her hand catches in my hair and knocks the headphones askew, so that I’m lucky enough to catch her needy whimper. She shuffles forward on her knees, as close as she can get, and I get hard from the way she wriggles. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as I nibble her lip. Never met anyone who gets to me like she does. And now she expects me to let her go? And take the blame? When she asked me to marry her?

Her hands drop to my chest and she pushes away, horrified. “What?”

“What?”

“You said I asked you to marry me.” She pulls away fast, standing up and flattening her back against the opposite side of the booth. “I would never, never, ever, ever do that.”

I pull the headphones from around my neck and hang them back up before grabbing hers from where she dropped them on the floor. What’s her hang up anyway? Why is she so against marriage? “You asked me to tell you how I tricked you into marrying you.”

“Yes. You tricked me. Isn’t that what you said earlier? You were going to confess.” She glances through the panes of glass in the door.

Slowly I stand up. There’s not much room in the booth and she’s uncomfortable. Don’t want to make it worse. “I am confessing. You asked me.”

“No. That can’t be true.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s ridiculous. Marriage is antiquated and stupid. And it never lasts. And… You don’t understand. I just wouldn’t.”

“Well, you did.” I open the door of the booth and step out. “You found the ring in my pocket while you were trying to...you know.” I scratch the back of my neck as her gaze drops to my groin. Even if she doesn’t remember, she knows. Her hands had been everywhere. All over me, all night. I wanted them there, wanted more. Couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get close enough. “You practically dragged me to the chapel. You bossed the Elvis impersonator around. You kept going on and on and on about how we were going to be the couple that lasted.”

---