Page 43 of An Engagement Pact

I’m blushing as Sage and Aspen ooh and aah over the romantic tale. It’s not true. I know it’s not true. Dan is putting on an act for an audience.

But itfeelstrue. And it makes me melt as if it were true.

And I desperately want it to be true.

“It didn’t take me that long,” I put in, making an effort to participate in the conversation. “But he came on kind of strong, you know.”

“Of course I came on strong. When you find the perfect person for you, you go out and get it.”

A few people from neighboring tables have turned around to blatantly listen to our conversation. One of the guys asks, “So when are you going to marry her then?”

“Actually,” Dan announces with a covert smile, “we were thinking about getting married this evening. While we’re here.”

That’s all it takes for everyone around us to erupt into excited babbling. And soon our quick trip to a wedding chapel has turned into an elaborate event.

Everyone wants to attend. After much advice, we eventually choose a wedding chapel near the conference hotel and make an appointment for ten thirty so we can get married right before the midnight howling at the moon extravaganza. Sage and Aspen insist on buying me a white, fringed, flowing garment that looks more like a druid robe than a wedding dress and enough jewelry to cover me head to foot. It’s not my style in any way, but I don’t have the heart to refuse their kind generosity.

After dinner and shopping, Dan and I go back up to our hotel room. I put on the dress and beaded jewelry, leaving my hair loose and making a little more effort with my makeup than normal. I look better than I expected when I come out of the bathroom, and the look Dan gives me verifies that I’m wedding ready.

Dan himself is wearing a pair of gray trousers with a blue Oxford. He bought us wedding rings from one of the vendors at the conference, so they’re gold bands inset with moonstones.

He can’t seem to stop smiling as we head downstairs to meet the others and walk en masse to the wedding chapel.

“You’re having way too much fun with this,” I murmur to him in the elevator.

“Are you saying you’re not having fun?” He brushes some of my hair back behind my shoulder.

“I might be having a little bit of fun. Never in my boring, hardworking life would I have dreamed of doing anything this crazy.”

“Then I’m glad you’re doing it now.” He leans down to brush a kiss against my lips. It’s the lightest of touches, but no one we know is around, so he has no real reason for doing it.

It makes excitement and pleasure jolt up and down my spine, but I do my best to ignore it.

We meet a group of about twenty-five conference attendees down in the lobby, and they join us for the wedding. The ceremony is simple and straightforward—just vows and exchanging the rings. But we sign official marriage documents, so at the end of it we’re married for real.

The others take us for drinks, and then we all go up to the rooftop to howl at the moon, a performance that starts with ceremonial solemnity and ends with tipsy eccentrics dancing with wild abandon.

Some of them even take off their clothes.

Dan convinces me to dance with him, and we have a fairly vanilla slow dance. He kisses me occasionally, and I know it’s for show. We’re supposed to be newlyweds after all.

But I can’t help but respond to him anyway, deepening the kisses when I should know better.

The whole experience ends up being intensely surreal and leaves me in a soft, fuzzy state, which isn’t like me at all.

I haven’t even drunk very much. There’s no reason for me to be feeling this way.

It’s almost two when we finally make our excuses and head back down to our room even though most of the others are still partying and/or chanting full force.

Dan is relaxed and still chuckling softly as we step into our room. He locks the dead bolt behind us. Then looks down at me in the entryway. “So.”

I gulp. “So.”

“I guess we’re married. It’s done.”

“Yeah. It’s done.”

“How are you feeling?”

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