Page 24 of Keep Me

As I descend the stairs, I see Killian waiting by the front door. He has his back to me as he looks down at his phone. His hair is down—deep-brown locks the same color as Anna’s. His come just to his shoulders.

He has on a granite-colored wool jacket and a green and orange kilt. I bite the corner of my lips as I stifle a smile. I’ve never seen a man in a kilt in real life, and I’m a little annoyed with myself for how intrigued and aroused I am by the sight.

The kilt stops just above his knee and was probably specially made for him since he’s built like a tree. His legs are sticking out of the bottom, thick and covered in hair. Then there’s the long white socks and a pair of black shiny shoes.

It’s honestly not fair how handsome he looks, even from the back. But let’s be honest, that kilt is doing the heavy lifting. His personality makes it very hard to find him the least bit attractive.

When he hears us coming, he turns, and our eyes meet. For a split second, he’s not wearing a rueful expression. For just a hair of a moment, he looks as if he’s admiring me. As if he might be the slightest bit nervous about today too. Which would be nice to know since I’m feeling nervous as hell too.

“Let’s get this over with,” he grunts before painting the hatred back on his face where it belongs. Then he opens the door and marches out to the makeshift altar outside in the white gazebo in the garden.

Anna gives me an apologetic expression. “I can handle him,” I mumble to ease her worries.

There is a crowd of people gathered near the gazebo, including the priest in his green robes.

When we approach the small group set apart from the rest, I notice that one of the men standing there looks like a younger cleaned-up version of Killian. Another man next to him doesn’tlook as much like Killian, but he’s wearing a scowl like Killian, so maybe there’s a gene for bad attitudes after all.

Anna leads me over to them.

“Declan, Lachy, this is Sylvie.”

The first one to smile and greet me is the short-haired Killian clone. “Lachy,” he says as he reaches out a hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.” His accent is thicker than his brother’s.

“Nice to meet you,” I reply warmly.

Then I turn to the other brother, who gives me a curt nod. “Declan,” he says flatly.

“Hi…” I stammer uncomfortably. “Nice to meet you.”

“The rest are mostly aunts and uncles and a few prominent people from the town. You’ll get a chance to meet them more at the reception later,” Anna says. I respond with a nod.

When I feel a heavy hand rest on my shoulder, I flinch. Feeling Killian’s touch and proximity is a little unsettling, but then I realize the priest is watching us, and when he sees my fiancé sidling up to my side, he smiles.

“Let’s get married, then,” Killian says, and I turn to see the fake smile plastered on his face. It’s not very convincing to me, but the priest seems to be buying it.

“Of course,” the priest mutters as he shuffles toward the center of the gazebo. Everyone takes their seats, and I walk down the aisle on Killian’s arm. It all feels very messy and rushed, but as long as everyone is buying it, I don’t care.

When we reach the front, I notice Lachy smiling, and I keep my eyes on him. He looks to be closer to my age and much more like the guy I’d be dating than Killian.

My hands start to shake as I turn to face Killian. The moment our eyes meet, I feel the tremble subside. He’s not scowling at me or giving me some hate-filled expression. I don’t feel so alone as we stare at each other. He’s in this too and hates it as much as me, and something about that is comforting.

The priest recites all the traditional things he’s supposed tosay at a wedding, but I’m drowning it all out at the moment.

Ten million dollars, I tell myself.Set for life.

That’s the incantation that gets me through the next few minutes. Briefly, as Killian and I stare at each other, I replay the conversation we had the other day. About avoiding each other for the next twelve months. And I wonder to myself if this would be easier if we didn’t seem to despise each other so much. Would I be dreading this the same way I am now if I could see Killian as a friend? Does it even matter?

He squeezes my hand and nods his head to the priest. “What?” I mumble.

“Say, ‘I do,’” Killian whispers.

“Oh, I do,” I say, feeling a chill work its way down my spine.

The priest says the marriage vows before Killian replies, “I do.”

“Have you the rings?” the priest asks.

I turn toward Anna, who hands us a set of gold bands. I glance down at the one in my palm. A simple gold ring for Killian.

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