Page 36 of Wake Me Up
The man, with his button-down shirt and glasses, speaks once more, but it’s just the tail end of what he says that I catch. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Fuck … I get to kiss her. She’s my fucking wife. And her mom and dad are watching like hawks.
Her eyebrows knit together slightly, and it’s almost like she’s waiting for a painful slap instead of a kiss. But the last thing we need to do is make it obvious that this isn’t a real marriage, so slowly, I reach forward and slide my hand against her cheek. Moving my body forward, I position my face downward and bring my lips closer and closer to hers. She looks scared, but just seconds before my lips touch hers, her eyes flutter shut, and so do mine. I don’t kiss her quickly or selfishly. Instead, I take my time, pressing my lips to hers and parting them slightly. I cup her cheek, and even though, at first, her lips stay coldly together, after a few seconds … she faintly kisses me back.
My cock twitches in my pants, and I kiss her a little longer—not wanting this moment to end because it may be the only time I ever get it. I feel like my entire body is being hit with electric waves before I hear her father clear his throat, as if to send me a message to wrap this kiss up.
Finally, I slowly pull back. Within seconds, her eyes flutter open,revealing a dazed look, and I give her a tiny smile before kissing her forehead. It’s not for show. It’s just to tell her that I’m here and that it’s all going to be okay.
Lacing my fingers with hers, I wink. “What do you say we get out of here?”
She looks from me to her parents and back to me before nodding shyly. “I’m free until the kids get out of school,” she whispers. “I guess now that we’re married, we should … well, go somewhere and talk? Make a plan?”
From the corner of my eye, I see the officiant eyeing us over. We should be bursting with happiness or emotional—anything that tells him that we’re in love and that … we’ve waited our whole lives for this moment.
Lifting her hand to my lips, I press a kiss to it and watch her cheeks turn an adorable shade of red.
“Anything you want, darlin’,” I murmur, and not a word of that is for show or to try to make someone believe I actually care.
I’d grocery-shop on a fucking Sunday at peak hours if it meant I could hang out with her a little longer.
And I hate grocery shopping. Even when it’s not the busiest day of the week.
Her eyes dart to the floor, and she fights a small wince. She might not be able to look me in the eye for more than a few seconds, but I’m going to show her that I can be exactly the man she needs me to be. For her … and her kids.
I’ll stick around for as long as she needs me to.
Or … for as long as she lets me.
I sit in the passenger seat of Tripp’s truck while he runs into the small grocery store. I try to stay relaxed, doing my best to not have a massive panic attack at the realization of what we did less than an hour ago.
An hour ago seems like a second has passed, but looking down at my clothes, I remember that, in that time, I’ve changed out of the ivory sweaterdress I was wearing—because to be honest … I couldn’t stomach being in anything sort of white when I feel like I’ve deceived Jamie.
I can’t believe that I married Tripp Talmage. Vowed to cherish him. Forever. And be faithful. In sickness and health.
All the things.
Dear. Fucking. God.
Every time I look at the ring on my finger, a pain shoots through my chest. It’s not because the ring I’m wearing right now isn’t pretty. It is. It’s a simple, single stone ring, but still breathtaking. It’s one of the ones you’d see in a bridal magazine, I’m sure. Probably on the finger of a woman who had perfectly manicured and polished nails, unlike my own.
So, no, it’s not the ring itself that’s making me want to die a little. It’s just the fact that I’ve taken my other ring off. The one I wore for so many years.
Sure, I’m only doing this for our little outing to celebrate our arrangement, and before I pick my kids up or see my family, I will certainly slip my real ring back on. It’s just the point that I’ve taken it off. That in itself feels like a betrayal to my husband.
Myrealhusband.
The back door opens, and when I turn my neck, I see Tripp has a paper bag. Flashing me a smile, he slides it into the back seat before closing the door and getting into the driver’s seat.
“What do you have there?” I ask, nodding my head toward the back seat as he shifts the truck into drive and leaves the parking lot.
“Well, you’ve got a few hours before school pickup, right?” he asks, glancing at the clock. “So, I figured we’ll have ourselves a picnic. And don’t worry; where we’re going, no one will see us.”
My spine straightens, and I frown. “Wh—why would we want to be somewhere private?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
I know we’re married now, but it’s very presumptuous to assume that we’re going to need alone time suddenly. I’m not going to have sex with him just because we tied the knot.
“Well, you don’t want your kids to know the truth about us, so I just assumed you wouldn’t want to be seen out and about with me.” He gives me a sharp look when he sees my shock. “I’m not a complete caveman, you know.”
