Page 41 of For the Love of Animals

“My family doesn’t give a shit about me, and the feeling’s mutual. I’ve got a few close friends, but they’ll understand if we go ahead and get married today.”

“What if we don’t? What then?”

“Up to you. Either you could come with me anyway, or we could try something long-distance. I’d visit as often as I could, but I’ve put too much into Blackwood to just walk away. Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, the first sign I’d seen that this was as difficult for him as it was for me. “When I came here a month ago, I had no idea this would happen.”

Instead of panicking about the upheaval that would follow if I married Nate, I thought of my future if I turned him down. I wouldn’t get a better job than the one he’d offered me, so I’d take it—I knew that much. And if I was in America, I’d want to be in his bed every night, even if I didn’t get much sleep. We’d argue—that much was obvious from the time we’d spent together so far—but I’d never be the compliant little woman at home, and I didn’t want that kind of man either. No, we’d argue, and then we’d compromise.

If Nate drove a Porsche, he wasn’t poor, and I wasn’t rich, so he wouldn’t be after my savings. Not like the guy who took me out to the most expensive restaurant in town a year ago, then stiffed me with the bill.

With Nate, I felt more like an equal. And shacking up with him in Virginia without a ring on my finger would have one big downside—the extra difficulty in getting a visa. It wasn’t as if I could list occupation: assassin on my application, was it? Marriage would no doubt ease that process.

Meanwhile, Nate was sitting quietly, watching me, giving me space to think.

I liked that.

“Let’s do it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“You’re not having second thoughts?”

“About you, querida? Never.” He took my hand and kissed my knuckles softly. “Ready to become Mrs. Wood?”

“Are you ready to become Señor Hernandez?”

He broke into a smile and chuckled. “Father Aguilar doesn’t like waiting.”

“You’re such an asshole, huevitos.”

He dropped my hand into his lap. “You may want to rethink that nickname.”

I gave him a squeeze. “Fine. Huevos grandes. Happy?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Nate did, and we didn’t hold back on the tongues.

“Get a room,” Teo yelled.

I gave him the finger, and my grandma gasped in shock. “Carmen! Be nice to your brother.”

Since he was the one who’d gotten me into this situation in the first place, I ignored them both, although the suggestion of a room wasn’t a bad one. Nate had delayed his flight back, and at least we still had the apartment until the end of the week, because I’d need that time to sort out the inevitable mayhem at work. Nate knew some people at the Secretariat of National Defense, and he’d promised to help, although he confessed they probably wouldn’t be too happy with him either. Apparently, the generals thought more highly of me than Captain Pendejo did, and Nate said they’d be upset to lose me.

I didn’t care. They should have treated me better.

Earlier, I’d walked down the aisle in my grandma’s wedding dress, pinned and stitched together in strategic places. The zipper didn’t entirely do up since I had a bigger bust than her, so a hurriedly bought shawl completed the ensemble. At least the rings both fitted. That was a minor miracle.

Pasqual had kept his promise with the flowers, and they were everywhere. Mamá kept sneezing, and Grandma wore a stargazer lily tucked behind one ear. Even Nate had a carnation tucked in his buttonhole—luckily, he still had a suit stashed at the apartment that we’d rushed back to pick up.

Mrs. Wood. I tried the name out for size, and it felt strange but right at the same time. Carmen Wood.

My husband, Nate Wood.

Fuck.

And now he wrapped an arm around my waist, his hand lingering at the top of my ass in the way that had become oh-so-familiar. I leaned into him, feeling our strength combine into a sum greater than either of us alone. Synergy.

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