Page 11 of The Mountain Man's Christmas Bride
But for her, this is a necessary protection, and I can be okay with that. She needs to keep that asswipe away, and if I can be her shield, then I will do it with a smile and a giantfuck youto the rat.
“I know I’ve already said this but thank you.” She opens her eyes, looking up at me. “I mean it.”
I nod once, clearing my throat. “Again. Anything to help you.”
“I never asked if you had…family. Friends. I mean, you know a lot about me now,” she murmurs as we move up the line again.A happy couple squeals and kisses off to the side, while another walks out quietly. “We’re about to be married, so…”
I press my lips together, heart suddenly pounding and sickness twisting in my stomach as I consider my response carefully. Anyone else, and I would tell them to mind their business. That my personal life was none of their concern. But with Sage, I feel the urge to open up.
“There was an…incident,” I tell her, swallowing hard. “My mother passed when I was young. My father owned our company before me, and my brother worked there, too. One day, I did the check on a specific project. It was up to me to make sure it was safe. Stable. Me and the inspector missed something. Next day, the building went down after a bad storm with my brother and father inside.”
Sage goes still beside me, her eyes wide. “Oh, Rhett, I’m so sorry,” she whispers. The line forces us to take another step, only one couple left ahead of us. And I’m glad.
“I haven’t said that out loud for a long time,” I reply, clearing my throat. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my past. But I won’t stop until you’re safe.”
Sage opens her mouth to respond, but we’re called to the front. I just shake my head; there are no words she can say to squash the guilt I feel for what I did, but at least she knows.
The process to get our license checked goes smoothly, with them taking our IDs, inspecting our paperwork, stamping it, then filing.
“That’s it,” the clerk announces with a timid smile. “Everything is in order. Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Hayes, you are officially married.”
As she slides the paperwork towards us, Sage blinks hard. “That’s it?”
The clerk nods once. “Yes! That’s it. Simple.”
“Huh,” she whispers, taking the certificate that’s handed to us. Our names are printed in dark ink, the paper nothing fancy. Just a legally binding document that proves to Scott our lie is actually true.
We are married.
I shouldn’t feel anything but satisfaction over this going smoothly, but as I look at her, staring almost sadly down at our certificate, I can’t help but want to give hersomething.
Pulling my cell from my pocket, I hand it to the woman behind us. “Could you take a picture of us, please?” I ask, turning on the camera.
The woman behind us, a brunette with deep grey eyes, grins. “Yeah, sure! Say cheese!”
Sage frowns as I pull her into me, one arm going around her waist, the other cupping her cheek. For a moment, her eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away.
“I’m going to kiss you, Mrs Hayes,” I murmur, lowering my face to hers.
Sage releases a shaky breath, leaning into me. “Okay, Mr Hayes.”
My heart warms unexpectedly, but I finally do the thing I’ve been dreaming of since last night when I felt her lips on my cheek.
There are cheers, but the sound dims as I fall into everything that is Sage. This is entirely different to anything I’ve felt before, and yet it feels like all the puzzle pieces are falling into place.
She tastes like the chai she drank leaving the county clerk’s office, lips smooth and soft, addictive. They part on a gasp, urging me to go deeper, to taste more of her, but the snap of photos pulls me out of the moment.
When I pull back, Sage gasps again, her cheeks red, eyes bright. But instead of the frown I expect, there’s a small smileon her lips—and it’s that simple look that really has me thinking that this can be more.
Thatwecan be more.
SIX
SAGE
When I lick my lips, I can still taste Rhett on my tongue. The kiss replays in my mind over and over again as I flip through the photos he sent me, the ones that commemorate ourmarriage.
The license, real and physical, sits in my lap weighing more than it should.
