Page 138 of Stolen for Keeps
“This is insane,” I whispered.
“Darlin’, I’m from Buffaloberry Hill,” Smith said with a wink. “We don’t do normal.”
And somehow, that was the push I needed.
Dom cleared his throat. “Well, we’ve got one witness. Me. But we need a second, or it won’t stick.”
A beat of silence stretched.
“I’m calling my brother,” Noah said, already reaching for his phone.
But before he could dial, the door banged open.
My head lolled forward, my heart dropping. It’d got to be the call that the hearing was about to start.
But it wasn’t.
It was Elia Lucas, still in his worn ranch jacket, his boots tracking in dust like he’d driven straight through the horizon to get here. And behind him?—
“Sheryn!” I launched myself at her, nearly knocking her off her feet.
“You think I’d miss your wedding?” She glared at me as she held me tight. “Short notice or not, I’m your girl. You tie the knot, I show up.”
I admired her face, her eyes gleaming, cheeks flushed, and a grin that stretched from here to forever. She was radiant. You’d never guess this was a rush job to avoid a legal disaster.
“How did you—” Noah started.
Elia smirked. “Granger called me and said Smith was on his way to Hamilton to officiate something for a Lucas. Figured it wasn’t me. So here we are.”
Relief slammed through me so fast that my knees almost gave out. My best friend. My almost-brother-in-law. Both here. Both with us.
Dom held up his hands. “I happily revoke my witness status. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a proper Buffaloberry wedding.”
Sheryn hooked her arm through mine and steered me toward Noah. “Come on, you glorious disaster. Let’s get you hitched.”
Noah stood and took both my hands. “Maya Belrose, you stirred something in me that I thought was set in stone. From the moment I saw you in that magnificent blue dress, I’ve wanted you. And if marrying you gets us through this…I’d do it a thousand times.”
My throat tightened. I wished we were marrying under different circumstances, but this was as real as it got. It didn’t matter where, when, or how. As long as it was Noah.
He shook his head. “I’m doing this because I love you. Court’s just the excuse.”
My throat burned.
“Then say the words,” Smith said.
So we did.
No flowers. No guests. Just a retired pastor with an eccentric satchel, my force-of-nature bestie, a lawyer with fire in his eyes, a steadfast brother, and the man who’d just become my husband in a courthouse side office with a dusty clock that ran five minutes fast.
As Smith pronounced us married, Noah kissed me, erasing the hours the world spent trying to pull us apart.
It wasn’t just about survival anymore.
It was us.
And we were in this for keeps.
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