Page 20 of This Means War

“Ah,” Tom brushes the already immaculate lapels of his suit coat, eyeing Hilda’s blue polo shirt with evident disdain.

“Hilda,” I say hastily, “so nice to meet you.” I offer her my hand, because I honestly don’t know whatelse to do. All I really know is that I want nothing more than to wipe that smirk off Lydia’s face.

“Nice to meet you too.” Hilda accepts my hand, appraising me in a way that lets me know she doesn’t trust me. It’s weird having her look at me that way while wearing a Meijer uniform, I feel a bit like she’s about to check my pockets for stolen merchandise.

“Let’s get inside.” Tom indicates the doors, eager to get this over with.

“Right. After you ladies.” I pull the door open and allow Hilda, then Lydia to file in.

“I’m marrying such a gentleman,” Lydia coos at me, then raises an eyebrow as she touches her still flat stomach. “On second thought, maybe not.”

I don’t even flinch at her insinuation, just smile down at her as my mind flits back to that day in her parent’s kitchen and the discarded romance novel with the guy in the breeches and a waistcoat on the cover. “Gosh, I’d be offended if I didn’t know what sort of books you like to read.” I bend down, so my lips are close to her ear. “Pretty sure you’re more into rakish scoundrel types like me anyway.”

Everything from her forehead to her neck to her exposed shoulders flushes red, and though I’d been intending to make her feel embarrassed for her book choices, I find I suddenly need to step away from her as heat washes over me. What is wrong with me? You’d think I was marrying this woman because I’m attracted to her or something.

I’ve obviously flustered Lydia too, though, sinceinstead of answering me, she just keeps walking. I search out Tom and Hilda to distract myself from her and see that they’ve already reached the door markedCity Clerk. Hilda is standing there admiring her long red fingernails, and Tom is studiously looking anywhere but her.

I hope Tom is wrong about Hilda blabbing to all her customers about me and Lydia. Sure, I said yesterday that I thought telling the voters outright what had happened between Lydia and I might be the way to go, but now that Hilda is here, and the threat of being exposed is all the more real, I’m having second thoughts. Maybe Tom is right, and we need to do our best to make it look like our marriage happened before our pregnancy. I’m sure my dad would agree with him.Willagree with him when he finds out.

“Wow,” Lydia, having recovered her regularly-colored complexion, speaks. “Our very own wedding chapel.”

Tom’s mouth forms a line, but he remains silent and simply pushes the door open. Fifteen minutes later the four of us are gathered around the city clerk, and I’m being asked to say, “I do”. My eyes meet Lydia’s, and I temporarily forget all of the drama that brought us here as I get lost in their depths.

“I do,” I utter the words as I slip the ring on her finger, and I’m surprised when my voice doesn’t shake one bit. I’m even more surprised when it’s her turn, and her lips curve up into a smile as she says the words. Of course, it’s there and gone so fast Iwonder if I imagined it.

The clerk tells me I can kiss the bride. I look down at Lydia with a question in my eye. She shrugs, indicating her assent, so I pull her close and kiss her softly. It’s nothing overly passionate and yet, as we pull apart, it’s my turn to wipe a smile off my own face.

Chapter 16

Lydia

As Cole pullsaway from our first kiss as a married couple, I try very hard to maintain my composure, which is hard, because I feel a bit like crying. I’m married. I have a husband. And he doesn’t even like me! The thought makes me want to wail, but I swallow hard against the impulse, reminding myself that this is all for the best. Then I think about his face when he saw me walking up with Hilda. He tried to hide it, but I saw the flash of annoyance on his face before he got control of himself. Ha! Point for me.

I am determinedly ignoring the fact that part of the reason I brought Hilda was to act as a buffer between myself and my haywire emotions. It’s probably pregnancy brain or whatever, but there have been these moments lately–like when Cole’s eyes locked on mine as he said I do–that I felt a stirring. Like a stirring of love. Well, maybe not love, but definitely like. I think I might like him. Eww. I’m going to have to nip that in the bud. Good thing Ibrought Hilda.

She’s just finished signing our marriage license, and I watch as she passes it to Cole. He signs it quickly, not even glancing at anything written on it, then hands me his pen to do the same. As I scrawl my signature, I scan the page and my hand freezes. Today is April 6, but the date listed is March 6. Is this an error or is it the date fudging Cole told me Tom wanted to do? I eye Cole, but either he hasn’t noticed or he already agreed to it.

“Cole,” I whisper, moving my pen to indicate the date, “I thought we said we were going to decide later how we wanted to handle all the date stuff.”

His eyes follow my pen, and I see him pale slightly. “Right,” he says, “we did say that. Uh, Tom.” He beckons him over, and I see him point to the date as he speaks into Tom’s ear.

Tom picks up the paper with a frown. “Wow, yes, that’s a mistake.” He eyes Cole. “I heard you loud and clear when you said no backdating the license. The clerk’s office must’ve made a mistake.” He sighs heavily. “I’ll go there this afternoon and have it fixed, then I can get the revised copy to you both to sign.” Tom meets my eyes. “You’ll have to have Hilda sign the new copy as well,” annoyance flickers across his gaze, “but for heaven’s sake don’t you even think about asking her to sign it in the middle of a crowded grocery store. We don’t need any media attention on this right now. It’s enough of a headache to the campaign that you brought someone who speaks with a thousand differentpeople every day as your witness.”

Cole looks distinctly uncomfortable now, and I realize that Tom wasn’t just annoyed about Hilda because she’s a cashier, he’s worried about her telling people our secret. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me, I’d really just wanted to offend his uppity sensibilities. I guess I’m not used to the political life.

“Lydia, Cole, look over here,” Hilda’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I turn to see her standing down the hall, her phone positioned to take our picture.

“This’ll look great on my Instagram,” she says gaily. Suddenly I feel sick. Hilda is great. You couldn’t meet a friendlier cashier. Of course, that’s because she’s so chatty. She always has a funny joke to tell or a story to share. I suddenly picture her at her post later today, telling anyone who cares to listen about how she was the witness at a courthouse wedding today. Oh goodness.

I chew my lower lip. Okay, it’s all fine. I hadn’t wanted to lie about our relationship in the first place, so what am I getting so upset about? Surely I don’t feel bad about potentially messing up Cole’s campaign. Do I?

“Lydia,” Tom is scowling at me, “please tell me your friend isn’t over there sharing photos of today on her Instagram feed.”

“Hilda!” I rush over to her and gently slide her phone out of her hand, assessing if any damage has been done. Thankfully she’s still selecting photos for her post. I wince as I notice one of me in mydress. When did she even take that? “Listen, did I not mention that today is sort of a private thing? We don’t want anything on social media.”

Hilda stares at her phone in my hand for a second, then shrugs. “Okay.” She snatches the phone back from me and closes the screen. “Now are we getting that lunch at Chipotle you promised me or not?”

Relief runs through me, escaping in a laugh. “Right, yes, Chipotle.” I walk back over to the men. “Crisis averted,” I tell them under my breath. Despite my words, Tom still looks peeved, and Cole’s mouth appears stuck in a frown. My victorious walk up here with Hilda now feels silly. I acted like a child, which is frightening because soon I will have an actual child. Which means I should probably start acting like an adult.

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