Page 25 of Keep Me

When he reaches a hand out for me, I place mine in his, and he slips the ornate diamond ring over my finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.” He spits the words out with a hint of bitterness, and I look at the priest to be sure he didn’t catch that.

He smiles at me to signify that it’s my turn. Still trembling, I reach for Killian’s hand.

The moment he places his large hand in mine, I stare down at it. For some reason, I’m enthralled by it. It’s soft against my fingers, and I find myself admiring the size difference between mine and his, letting myself explore the palm before flipping his hand over to slide the ring over his fourth finger.

I don’t let go right away. Feeling his gaze on my face, I lift my eyes to his.

“Here before God, and in His name, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

My breath hitches.Fuck. I forgot about this part.

Killian doesn’t waver. He places a hand around my back andtugs me to his ginormous body. My spine bends as I stare up at him. I’m barely even on my feet when he cradles my head and presses his lips to mine.

It’s brutal and harsh, and I squeeze my eyes closed as his rough beard scratches my face.

The kiss is over as fast as it began. The next thing I know, my feet are back on the floor, and I open my eyes to see Killian’s brothers and sister staring at us with a mixture of smiles and unamused expressions. Anna claps softly, and I touch Killian’s arm to steady myself.

Then, he walks back down the aisle, and I follow him, holding tight to his gray wool jacket.

Killian marches right toward the house. I’m practically dragged behind him.

“Wait! We need photos!” Anna calls.

Killian stops in his tracks and stares at his sister expectantly.

“Here, next to the gazebo,” she says, pointing to the structure.

Killian grabs my arms and hauls me to stand next to the white brick. Anna gets her camera out and points it at us.

“Smile!” she calls.

When it’s obvious that Killian and I aren’t willing to do much more than stand next to each other without touching and refuse to smile, she heaves a sigh and gives us both a steady glare.

“Fuck it,” he mutters. Then, he slings an arm behind my back. We hold hands in front and stare at the camera. When I see him grinning, I can’t help but smile too.

This all feels incredibly strange and awkward, and I have to keep reminding myself this is a fake marriage and not a real wedding, so I don’t have to bother being disappointed.

Chapter Nine

After the wedding, everyone comes back to the house. Once it’s filled with guests and food and music, it feels like a different place.

I’m a feather in a hurricane, blown frivolously from one end to the other, never landing. Killian is rarely by my side, and for that, I’m grateful. Most of the day is spent being introduced to relatives and friends by Anna. They ask about my family, how I met Killian, how I like Scotland, how many babies I want to have.

Every time I get my hands on a glass of wine, I gulp it down as fast as I can, as if it will soften the blow of this god-awful, miserable day.

There are moments when families laugh together that make the absence of mine feel debilitating. Then there are moments when they are obnoxious and overbearing that make me grateful mine are not here.

It’s nearly two hours after the start of the party, and I manage to slip out the back door of the house and onto the stone veranda. Once there, I scurry down the stairs to escape the eyes of anyone at the party.

I desperately need a break.

But as soon as I reach the gravel pathway below, I nearly runheadfirst into the last man on earth I want to see—my husband.

“Oy,” he says with a groan when he spots me interrupting his escape. His large hands engulf my arms. “Watch where you’re going, wench.”

“Let me go, Killian,” I argue.

He releases my arms, and I step away from him, fixing my dress.

---