Page 20 of Curious
“Do you, Camden, take this man, Shelby, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward?”
“I do.”
A massive sob threatens to erupt from my chest, but I tamp it down. The emotion still manages to make my eyes leak.
Something about Cam’s deep, resonant voice justdid itfor me. I know our union is for clinical reasons, but gosh it felt right in the moment. It felt like Cam could want me for the rest of his life.
Like no one else has.
And that’s not a thought I need to encourage. For now, I’m mesmerized by the ring, and when I get in my car, I gaze at my hand on the wheel. I like the way the shiny band looks on my finger and how it feels to be part of a unit. An “us.”
I start the car, and when I look in the rearview mirror, I see my kiss-stung lips.What the hell was up with that?
Cam kissed me for real. Not some light brush of lips. Kissing like that, if he didn’t mean it, would win him an Emmy.
I want to kiss him again. I like the way he tastes, like friendliness and something solid that you can rely on.
Except it’s probably going to be our only kiss, and worse, it was just for show.
I give myself a quick talking-to. I’m not getting involved with a straight guy. I’m not repeating that pattern ever again. Cam needs medical care, and we’re doing this because it’s the best way to obtain it for him. We’ll get divorced after he’s healed. No biggie.
When I drive up to where he’s waiting, I get out and help him put his crutches in the back of my Civic.
“Hey,” I say, standing awkwardly and holding the door open while he bends over to get in the car. The cut of his suit pants does nothing to hide his bubble ass. He must have gotten that from squatting and lifting things all day long.
Why does the person I’m married to happen to be so beautiful?
When he settles in, he looks up at me, smiles, and says, “Hey.”
I close the door for him and return to the driver’s seat. Before we drive off, he reaches over and takes my hand, opening his mouth to say something, but I’m focused on his warmth. During the ceremony, I realized it was the first time I’d held his calloused hands, but they felt steadying.
They still do. “You okay?” he asks.
I give him an unreserved smile. “Totally. Oh my god, we got married!”
“I know.” He laughs. “It feels surreal. But I’m glad—I mean, I’m glad it’s you.” And dammit, there goes my heart again. As usual. “Where do you want to go to lunch? What’s your favorite place?”
“I like this old Mexican place that’s been around for a hundred years. Noah and August won’t care if I have a margarita with lunch. August has bought me drinks himself during work hours in the past.”
“Then let’s go there,” he says. “That sounds good.”
Myhusbandand I drive to my favorite restaurant and walk in. While we wait for the greeter, Cam props himself up on his crutches so he can hold my hand. He seems strangely good with physical contact with me. Maybe it’s because his brother and sister are queer, or maybe he’s just a touchy-feely guy. He certainly doesn’t seem to have any hang-ups about marrying me.
You’d almost think we were actually a couple.
But of course we’re not, so it feels kind of hollow. I look at Camden, all warm smiles and confidence, and I wish our marriage were not just legal, but real.Sigh.
“Nice flowers. Is there a special occasion?” the greeter asks, gesturing at our boutonnieres.
“We just got married!” Cam announces.
The greeter perks up and congratulates us. The pride in Cam’s tone makes me think either he’s a better actor than I imagined or—is it possible?—he likes being married to me. What a concept.
It makes me happy. I’m even more pleased when we get seated at a booth with a semicircular seat. I scoot to the middle, and Cam slides in next to me. We’re not touching, but it feels like we’re aligned. We study the menus, and the server takes our drink orders.
When the server leaves, I ask, “Do you mind if I call the office to enroll you?”
Cam makes a go-ahead gesture. “Please.”
