Page 52 of Crow

“You don’t have to give me an answer now.” She sets her hand on my leg, extremely tentatively. I don’t do anything to remove it. “I don’t think either of us are in any shape to operate anything motorized. I know you’re paying for these rooms, but could we possibly look at bikes tomorrow?”

“Of course. The money isn’t an issue.”

“I just don’t want to presume. That’s not a nice thing to do to someone, ask them to pay.”

“You’re not asking. But don’t worry. I can always find another poker game.”

Even without, it’s not an issue. It does warm me that she worries about things like this. That the material shit in life isn’t what she wants or needs, but she can appreciate every small thing that’s done for her.

“I thought maybe we could find a museum or an aquarium. Maybe a used bookstore. Something quiet and easy.”

This. Woman.

She has my fucking number.

I won’t ever turn down a bookstore, especially a used one. I love everything about the atmosphere of those shops. The smell. The spines all lined up like an endless sea of possibilities.The intrigue and the treasure hunt. But mostly the scent. I wish I could bottle it… old books with a little bit of must and dust.

“Also, can we buy some condoms?”

I just about rear back straight into the wall. I don’t want to reject her. “I—mixing physical with the other stuff—it could make a mess of things.”

She nods, but angles away so I can’t read her face. If she’s disappointed, she doesn’t let me know it. “We’re like, husband and wife with no benefits instead of friends with benefits.”

“Everyone says that’s marriage in a nutshell,” I deadpan before I can stop myself.

She snorts. “That’s incredibly pessimistic.”

I shut it instead of espousing my belief that marriage is like religion. Just another institution that’s full of lies, expectations, let downs, rules and ultimately goes nowhere. I don’t want to hurt her. Besides, this is fake. She’s not trying to cram love language books down my throat, or save your marriage bullshit, or chain me down. In a few weeks, we can probably get an annulment.

I snatch my phone off the nightstand and look up a few bookstores. There are two that are nearby, and both look promising.

I let Tarynn have my phone to look further while I eat.

For now, we’re content to leave things as they are.

Fuck if I know what that even really is.

Chapter 15

Tarynn

Ithought waking up married was the craziest thing that was going to happen to us today, but I was wrong.

Crow found a bookstore not far from the hotel. Not far by Vegas standards still means plenty of walking, and that’s how we ended up finding the dog.

And racing to the vet.

And promising to cover what is going to be a huge bill for her to stay overnight and get the help she needs. She’s probably had some head trauma at she has a broken front leg.

“She’s skinny and she’s underweight,” the vet—a middle aged man with a shiny bald head and a huge beard, tells us.

I’m standing right beside Crow at the front of the clinic. We were taken directly to the back when Crow walked in carrying the underweight, greasy German shepherd. He had to pay three hundred dollars to the cab driver who quoted the amount up front because of the blood he anticipated getting all over his seats. He did take us, in the end, and I don’t think a drop of blood even got on his stupid interior. Crow drove with the dog over his lap and soaked up most of it.

The vet has solemn but kind eyes. “I don’t want to give you false hope. I think she’s going to pull through, but she’s far from out of the woods and she’ll probably need to stay a few days.”

My heart beats at what feels like twice the normal rate. It hasn’t slowed since we saw some asshole hit the poor dogright in front of us in an intersection. He did slow down and eventually pulled over and got out. Crow ran straight for the dog, checking her over, his hands hovering over her broken body and bloody fur like he could fix her with his touch alone.

I wish he could.

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