Page 14 of Roman and Jules
Jules went for the door again and he blocked it with what he hoped was his most charming look. “I might have some money on me.”
“No, it’s too…” she looked thoughtful then shook her head again, “No, too crazy.”
“You know how you felt when you found out about Rosalyn? That’ll be nothing to how Ty’s going to feel tomorrow.” Her nose flared at that and she stared down at Roman’s ring on her finger. It was on her thumb. The sadness in her expression made him want to punch out Ty now. “We’ll annul it the second you say the word.”
Her chin lifted. “I don’t think it would work…”
She was wavering.
“How about we roll on it?” Roman wasn’t sure if his luck was about to run out, but he took out the dice from his pocket and rubbed it between his fingers. “What do you say?”
Her gaze narrowed on him. “You have to roll a five.”
It was his lucky number that night. Making a beeline to a table with a guestbook, he kissed the dice and then, taking a deep breath, he shook the dice and rolled. It came out a four. He groaned then chuckled low under his breath. So much for his grandiose ideas.
Her fingers dug into his arm. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”
She looked terrified. His heart sped up—he felt terrified too, but managed to play it off with a joke. “Shall we go for the veil and bouquet deal, honey?”
“Whatever.” Her eyes had grown bluer and bigger in a matter of seconds and her lips were parted slightly as she studied him. She still hadn’t let him go, and he doubted she knew she still clutched onto him like a lifeline. Roman made a signal to the officiator and the black shadow rushed forward to take care of them before they got second thoughts. The man must be used to these split-second decisions, though Roman suspected if the man knew the half of it, he’d write it down as some sort of record.
He shook Roman’s hand firmly. “The name’s Lawrence, Father Lawrence. I’ll be officiating for you tonight. I don’t take credit—only debit and cash. No money back. Ever.” He spit chew into a trash can and Jules jumped back while he peered into Roman’s face. “Do I know you?”
Roman came from a high-profile family. He was used to people recognizing him. “No. Where’s the paperwork?”
Lawrence snapped his fingers. “You’re the son of Monty Hugh Verona.” He whistled. “There’s bad blood in your family.”
Roman froze. Surely news of his great-aunt’s altered will hadn’t traveled this fast? “Never mind about that.”
Lawrence had already dismissed him with a look. His gaze had latched onto Jules instead. “You look familiar too.”
The free publicity—mostly negative—that Roman endured had its drawbacks. “I don’t think so. She’s not from around here.”
“You’re dating Ty Bolt.” Lawrence grinned broadly then turned confused. “Wait.”
“Papers?” Roman practically strangled on the word.
Roman quickly did the paperwork while Jules gripped onto his back, hanging over his shoulder to see the wording of the contracts. Her hair tickled his neck and he brushed it aside before it made him crazy for her. He supposed he’d better get used to that, at least for a while.
He signed the paper, trying to hide the shaking in his hand. She stole the pen and dug the end into the paper, almost ripping it.
Lawrence pushed her veil at her and she shook her head desperately at it when she couldn’t get it on right. He’d better settle her down, and fast, or there was no way he could go through with this. He felt like a monster forcing her into a marriage. Roman took over the veil, tucking it around her damp hair. “I guess since we’re getting married, I’ll let you keep your hair.” Her head jerked up at that, and he quickly explained. “I was going to send it to your parents as a ransom, remember?”
Her hand went to the strands—he was fascinated to see that they had turned into ringlets from the rain. She played with them as a smile touched her lips. It was a start.
Roman reached for the obsidian ring she’d won off him. “Let’s see that.” He pulled it off her thumb and tried to fit it onto her ring finger. It whipped around like a hula hoop. “Maybe we should get one from a bubblegum machine?”
Lawrence drew forward, never one to lose an opportunity. “I sell rings.”
“Let’s see what he’s got. Maybe he’s got one with skull and crossbones.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said. “I mean, it’s not like this marriage is going to last.”
The officiator made a sound of surprise and Roman saw an opportunity to get her to laugh. “So you might as well get some jewelry out of it.” He plucked the box from Father Lawrence and settled it down in front of her. “Let’s see—we’ve got the class ring wannabe, the rubber hipster ones, the tiniest diamond in the world, the fakest diamond—oh hey—this rock looks like a tooth. What do you think?” He was gratified to see her mouth relax enough to let out a giggle. “Put it on,” he said and pushed it onto her ring finger, pretending to admire the gaudy, colossal thing. “This sucker can be a weapon. If I ever get out of line, you can use it on me.”
“You plan to get out of hand?” she asked him with a hint of mischief.
Good. She was playing along, and he still needed to give careful answers here. “It depends on… if you eat all the Cocoa Puffs before I can get to them.”
