Page 10 of Inappropriately Matched

By the time we enter the county clerk’s office, I’m flustered, hot, bothered, disoriented, quivery, can’t English, and so, so wet.

I have no idea what happened, but from that moment, I was no longer in charge. Holt, Steele, and Ryder took over. I also have no clue what strings they pulled, but talk about a quickie marriage.

Everything is done in one day. Holt’s name may appear on the marriage license, but a document drawn up by a lawyer who appeared within moments of being summoned by them indicates I’m married to Holt Kissinger, Steele Adams, and Ryder MacMurphy. That’s the only documentation I’ll need, they inform me.

After that, they give me a few hours to pack what I need. The rest they’ll arrange to be picked up later.

Not only did Tierney and Haley help me pack, but they also managed to sneak out and go shopping, showering me with bags upon bags of gifts. We also drink champagne, bidding farewell to my virginity as I pack up my apartment.

It’s so surreal.

But dear god, here I am sitting in a huge four by four, with three guys I know as much about as I do fly-fishing, and they happen to be my husbands.

They picked me up from my apartment after their workday, and we’re now driving to my new home.

“Wait, where are we going to live?” I ask excitedly; the weight of three simple wedding bands on my finger gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling as I sit in the back with Ryder. Holt drives, and Steele sits in the front passenger seat. Honeypot, despite being harnessed with a safety belt in the middle of me and Ryder, chooses to snuggle against the big guy instead of me. I mean, snuggle against me, not me snuggling against the big guy.

“You obviously don’t live together, right?”

“We do,” Ryder offers. “You’re just moving in with us.”

“Cool,” I say. “So tell me about yourselves. I mean, if this is going to be myhoneymoon, I at least need to know something about my husbands.”

“I like it rough. Ryder likes it slow. Steele likes to play,” Holt says.

I gulp. “I mean, what’s your favorite color?” I say in a small voice, which makes even Holt grin.

Apparently, they don’t have a favorite color; too much of a commitment. They were foster brothers who grew up together and are closer than actual brothers. They have no other family.

Holt mountain climbs in his spare time. Steele loves to do deep-sea diving. And Ryder likes to jump from moving planes. I let them know upfront I prefer my feet on solid ground.

I tell them besides being a matchmaker atLeashed to Love,I’m also an artist, a painter, and I would love to do a portrait of them one day. Free of charge.

“How did you get into construction?” I ask.

“The roof of the last foster home we lived in collapsed, and we fixed it by ourselves. From there it was just one job after another,” Steele says.

I like this. I could get very used to this. There’s no pressure to be a hotel heiress around them. And they don’t seem to care that I am one either.

I look outside at the setting sun as we drive away from the city, and I smile.

Of course, I don’t have our time frame in hard writing; it’s more a verbal agreement, and I have no doubt they’ll be keeping me to my word that this marriage is only ninety days long.

It’s just as well Tierney made us all go on the pill the minute she got married, which had all started because she wanted to lose her virginity and write a book about it. Hersexperimentsbecame her husbands. Her reasoning was we never know when we’re going to meet the love of our lives or the hookup of our lives.

Tierney is a genius like that.

Also, just as well this isn’t real, and we’re not having any babies. Imagine telling our kids the story of how we met.

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