Page 69 of Rook

“Sorry we can’t come with,” Coach said. “But know we’re there in spirit.”

They genuinely seemed like they were upset they couldn’t be there. For a fake wedding. It was surprisingly sweet.

We said our goodbyes before slipping into my car and driving to the courthouse.

It wasn’t a grand one—just a long, low limestone building. But it did have a pretty nice staircase leading up to it that worked as a pretty backdrop for ‘OMG, we are gonna do this!’ pictures.

The photographer—a pint-sized, curly-haired redhead with hearts in her eyes—was full of compliments and instructions.

It was all just fine.

Until she requested a kissing picture.

I mean, yeah, I’d been bracing myself for more kissing. I knew it would have to happen after we said our vows. And maybe even for a few pictures after.

But the second she said it, desire flooded my system—unbidden, unwanted, uncontrollable.

My gaze shot up, finding Rook already watching me, something soft in his eyes that had my belly going liquid.

Then his hand was raising, snagging my chin, then leaning down for a soft kiss.

“That was cute!” Gigi, the photographer, called, snapping away. “But give me more passion!”

Rook’s hand went to the back of my neck, fingers digging in.

Then his lips were on me.

I forgot all about the people around, about our picture being taken, about contracts and vows.

All there was in the whole town, state, country, world was him, this, us.

Rook’s lips pressed harder against mine as I melted into him, my lips responding immediately, getting harder and hungrier with each passing moment.

His other arm slid around my lower back, pulling me flush against him.

A soft moan escaped me, making his fingers clench.

“That’s perfect!” Gigi called.

As sweet as she was, her voice was an ice bucket over my desire, making me see how carried away we were getting.

And there was no way either of us could claim it was just for show.

I pulled back, trying to think past the hormone haze. “Did you get enough? We should probably be getting in now,” I said.

“Of course. Yes. I think we are good. I’m sure I can get some good ones inside.”

“That’s being optimistic,” Rook said under his breath, having been inside the courthouse himself in the past.

And, well, he wasn’t wrong.

The inside of the building was all dated and dirty tile floors, dark wood, and grimy windows that barely let in any natural light.

Gigi grumbled to herself several times as she tried to get decent candid pictures of us as we waited in line before finally getting in front of the Justice of the Peace. He was a short, round, sullen man who clearly didn’t think much of marrying random strangers all day.

I felt a twinge of disappointment until Rook’s hand squeezed mine.

The Justice read off our vows in a droning voice. Rook repeated them with his voice a little more stilted than usual. When it was my turn, my damn voice shook. Almost as hard as the hand in his as he slid the ring up my finger.

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