by Katie Meyer
She managed a smile while mumbling something that sounded like thank you, but Ryan could tell she’d been thrown by the well wishes. Stepping up beside her he gave Greg a one-armed man hug and tried to divert his attention away from Jessica for a moment. “Hey buddy! Thanks for doing this for us.”
Greg nodded while motioning for them to follow him down a short hallway. “No problem. I figure I’m getting the better end of the deal. You have no idea what painters cost.” He brought them into a small room with a round table and chairs, an ancient coffee pot and a set of dented lockers. “Let me just get my stuff and we’ll take care of this. Do you guys have vows written out?”
Jessica swiveled, a hint of panic shining through her otherwise calm facade. Yeah, he hadn’t thought about that either.
“With everything going on we haven’t really had a chance to discuss that. Don’t you have some kind of standard ceremony you can use?” He sure as hell hoped so. He’d barely gotten Jessica to agree to this plan in the first place. Any additional complications and she’d be out the door before they could say “I do.”
Greg nodded as he pulled a small black book and a notary stamp out of the locker. “Of course. I just wanted to make sure. Some people get a kick out of coming up with something unique. But there’s nothing wrong with sticking to tradition, am I right?”
“Sure.” Because there was nothing more traditional than getting married at a check-cashing place. In his peripheral vision he caught Jessica rolling her eyes. Obviously he wasn’t the only one to pick up on the irony. At least she now looked amused instead of panicked. That was an improvement.
“And you have the license?”
“Yup, got it this morning.” Ryan passed over the document he had picked up at the courthouse on his way over. He’d been able to apply for it online, yet one more surprise in a week of surprises. Technology for the win.
Greg scanned it and set it on the table with his notary supplies. “Then I think all that’s left are the rings.”
Jessica shook her head. “We aren’t doing rings.”
“Actually, I thought we might.” He pulled a small bag from his pocket, the local jeweler’s name emblazoned on the front. “Just to make things look more official.”
Greg raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask any questions. Not that Ryan really cared what Greg thought about their unusual nuptials. It was Jessica’s opinion that mattered. He waited, and when she shrugged in acquiescence he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Logically, it was silly to care if she wore his ring. It wasn’t like the small circle of silver would make the marriage any more real. But not everything was about logic.
“Well then, let’s get you two lovebirds hitched.”
Ryan reached for Jessica’s hand and gave it a squeeze, and prepared to take one of the biggest steps of his life. Hopefully he wasn’t heading in the wrong direction.
* * *
The only thing keeping Jessica from a complete panic attack was the absurdity of the situation. She was getting married in the employee break room of a check-cashing business. Who did that? The entire thing was ridiculous, and she was afraid that she might burst into giggles at any moment. Not that laughing could do any more to make the situation less dignified. Pretty sure they had already reached rock bottom in that regard.
Laughter was better than tears though. She had promised herself she wasn’t going to cry. She would hold it together. No crying. No laughing. She could do this.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here...” Greg started to read and Jessica felt a giggle start to bubble up. Gathered? The room was empty other than the three of them. Ryan must have thought the same thing because he interrupted the pseudo ceremony to question it.
“Don’t we need more people? Witnesses? I think the certificate has places for them to sign.”
Greg’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah! I forgot. It’s been a while since I’ve done this, and usually there are at least a few other people. I’ve never had just the couple for a wedding before.”
Jessica nerves latched onto the oversight like a drowning man to a life preserver. “Well, if we don’t have any witnesses I guess we can’t do it.” She’d have to figure out another way to get her inheritance, or do without it, but she was more than willing to take this as a sign from the universe to call the whole thing off.
Greg shook his head, his grin annoyingly chipper. “Oh, no worries. I’ve got this covered.” He crossed to the wall and picked up the phone hanging there. “Hey, Darlene. Can you and Lila come to the break room for a minute? Thanks.”
So much for the universe offering her an out. A moment later two women in their early twenties walked in, both in the same blue polo and khaki pants as Greg. One was tall and thin with bleached blond hair and enough makeup to paint the Sistine Chapel. That one was Lila, according to her name tag. Darlene was a short brunette with the most impressive resting bitch face Jessica had ever seen. She was the one to speak first. “What do you want, Greg? If you’re going to whine about people leaving dishes in the sink again, don’t bother. It wasn’t me.”
“Me either.” Lila tossed her platinum hair over her shoulder. “I’m on a diet. I didn’t even bring food today.”
Jessica couldn’t imagine why she’d need to diet since there wasn’t a single extraneous ounce on the woman, but kept her opinion to herself. She hadn’t come here to critique anyone’s nutritional habits. No, she was here to get married. Which really didn’t make any more sense than the other, but it was what it was. A means to an end. A way to ensure some stability, however temporary, for her baby and herself.
“Nah, nothing like that. I just need you to witness a wedding.”
Lila squealed. “You want us to be in your wedding?” She looked expectantly back and forth between Ryan and Jessica.
Jessica refrained from rolling her eyes. Barely.
“Not exactly.” Greg held up the marriage certificate. “Just need you to sign this when we’re done.”
“Oh.” A more subdued Lila shrugged her shoulders. “Okay. As long as I don’t have to clock out. I can’t afford to lose any hours.”
“Do we get paid? Like actors or something?” Darlene interrupted.
“No, you don’t get paid. And yes, you can stay on the clock.” Greg shook his head in disgust. “Geez, you guys aren’t very romantic.”
It was the utter sincerity in Greg’s voice that did it. Complaining that the witnesses weren’t romantic, as if the rest of this situation wasn’t an utter and complete dumpster fire.
The laughter Jessica had been holding back broke through. The more she tried to stop the harder she laughed until she was bent over at the waist, hands on her legs, wheezing in hysterics. Ryan’s confounded expression just made her laugh harder, until tears streamed from her eyes and she could hardly catch her breath. She’d always had a tendency toward nervous laughter, often getting in trouble for giggling during church or while she was being scolded in school. But none of the people in the room with her knew that and they were all staring at her as if she had lost her mind. Maybe she had. Not that she cared what they thought—she was never going to see any of them again. Well, except for the one about to become her husband. That thought was enough to sober her a bit. Out of breath but somewhat under control, she straightened.
“You done now?” Ryan’s somber tone almost set her into another round of giggles.
“Uh-huh. Sorry. But this whole thing is just so...” She struggled for a word to encompass the sullen witnesses, the low-end retail location and total lack of normality and shrugged.
“Unconventional?” Ryan offered.
“Weird,” she responded.
“Very weird,” he agreed, a bit of mirth lifting the corners of his mouth.
“Definitely.”
“But we’re going to do it anyway, right?” The uncertainty in his voice touched her. He
was scared she’d leave, and knowing that made her feel a little better about staying. One more contradiction in the mess that had become her life. But hey, at least she didn’t have to face all of this alone.
She could handle it on her own. She absolutely could. But maybe she didn’t have to.
“Yeah. We are.” Maybe this was a mistake, but it was one she was going to see through. “Just tell me what to do.”
The ceremony itself was short, a blur of will you and do you and talk of a forever that she knew had nothing to do with them or their sham of a relationship. For better or worse might apply, but that was about it. Too soon it was over, Greg and their last-minute witnesses staring at them expectantly.
“Is there something else?” She’d tried to follow along, to make the right responses, but it seemed she’d missed something.
Greg raised an eyebrow. “This is the part where you kiss.”
“Oh.” A gaggle of hyperactive butterflies danced in her belly at the thought, which was silly. It was just a kiss. People kissed all the time without it being a big deal.
Of course, those people weren’t kissing Ryan O’Sullivan.
Personal experience said that kissing him was a very big deal.
That was her last coherent thought before his lips were on hers, and her brain short circuited. Heat surged from their fused mouths and filled her from the tip of her toes to the top of her head, lighting up every nerve ending in between. His tongue danced with hers, teasing and tasting his way past her defenses. One kiss, and she melted into him, her legs nearly losing their fight to gravity in the face of a much stronger force of attraction.
It was the sound of a door slamming that finally broke the spell.
Pulling back, she was startled to realize they were alone in the room. How long had they been kissing. And how on earth was she going to keep it from happening again?
Chapter Eight
As strange as the wedding had been, it was even stranger driving away by himself. They had taken separate cars there, so of course they left separately afterward. One more thing that made logical sense but felt completely wrong.
In fact, the only thing about any of this absurd, ridiculous wedding that felt right had been the kiss. It definitely ranked up in the top kisses of all time, beaten only by their first kiss back at the academy. Of course, it hadn’t been just a kiss that time—or at least, not just one kiss. There had been a whole string of them, leading to quite a bit more, which was why were in the situation they were in.
Their first kiss as man and wife had been chaste in comparison, but had still stirred him enough to have him blasting the air-conditioner on high in an attempt to cool off his body and his libido. He’d kept his lips gentle, but she’d tasted as good as he’d remembered, the spark between them had grown into a full-fledged fire as the seconds ticked by. He’d noticed her legs weaken as she leaned into him and heard the stifled moan she’d breathed into his mouth. She might say that this marriage was just a business agreement, but that kiss said there was something more between them. Maybe it was just chemistry. Maybe it didn’t mean anything beyond that. But if it did...well he figured he had a year to find out.
As he drove through the sparse weekday traffic he tried to tamp down the sense of urgency that rose every time he thought of their time running out. He needed to take this slow, and let things unfold naturally. No doubt Jessica was feeling overwhelmed by the pregnancy, and now she’d be dealing with letting her loved ones know about a marriage too, even if it was only a means to an end. She had enough stress on her plate. Pressuring her by moving too far too fast wouldn’t be fair to her or to their unborn child. His job was to do everything he could to protect Jessica and the baby she carried. Even if that meant protecting her from himself.
He pulled into the driveway at Jessica’s mom’s house, blocking her little car with his own. She hadn’t acted like it would be a big deal to tell her mom, but he knew she was dreading it. Of course, in true Jessica fashion, she couldn’t admit to being scared or nervous. No doubt she would put on a brave front, just like she had when confronting a broken-bottle-wielding criminal. He’d had her back then, and he’d have it now.
He stepped out and met Jessica partway up the gravel path to the front door. He would have taken her hand, but she was already pushing past him and opening the door.
“Mama? Where are you?”
Mrs. Santiago appeared in the open doorway off the small living room, a partially folded bath towel in her hands. “I’m right here. Why?” She paused a few steps into the room, her gaze going from Jessica to Ryan and then back to her daughter. “I didn’t realize you were bringing a guest over. I can go back to my room—”
“No, Mama. Stay. Ryan and I have something to tell you.”
The older woman’s face paled. “This isn’t about your brother, is it? Did something happen on his shift today?” She twisted the towel in her hands, her knuckles white against the darker tan of her skin.
“No! This has nothing to do with Alex. I’m sure he’s fine. You know he can take care of himself.”
“Thank God.” Sinking into a worn easy chair, she smoothed the towel across her lap. “I know you think it’s silly, how much I worry about the two of you, but worrying is a mother’s prerogative. Someday you’ll understand.” Jessica flinched at the comment, no doubt remembering that she would soon have firsthand knowledge of a mother’s feelings and fears. Thankfully, her mother didn’t seem to notice. She just smiled and waved at the couch. “But enough about my worries. Sit, both of you, and tell me whatever it is you came here to say.”
Jessica seemed frozen in place. When she still stood silent after a minute, he stepped forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with her in solidarity. It wasn’t his place to speak for her, but he didn’t want her to feel she was in this alone. If he had his way, she wouldn’t have to face anything alone ever again.
* * *
Jessica swallowed hard. She liked to pretend she wasn’t afraid of anything, but all her bravado meant nothing when it came to her mom. She’d rather be hit by a Taser than see a look of disappointment in her mother’s eyes. Dread coiled in the lowest part of her stomach like a viper waiting to strike. Taking a deep breath, she forced the words past the nausea and let them fill the room.
“I’m pregnant.”
Her mother’s jaw fell open, but before she could respond Jessica let the other bomb drop. “And married.”
The old grandfather clock in the hall ticked off second after second of silence, her mother’s rapid blinking the only sign that she hadn’t actually died from shock, until Ryan stepped forward and bravely filled the void.
“I know this must be a surprise—”
Her mother cut him off with a rapid-fire retort in Spanish, the words flying so fast that Jessica could catch only a few phrases. None were polite.
“Mama!” Jessica tried to break in, but succeeded only in redirecting her mother’s anger from Ryan toward herself. At least she was a more deserving target. She’d known her mother would be angry. But for some reason she’d expected the kind of cold, quiet anger her mother was known for. The kind that left you waiting for the other shoe to fall. The kind that had you begging for forgiveness without her saying a single harsh word. She’d been ready for that.
No part of her had been prepared for this hot and fiery maternal rebuke. Without conscious thought she retreated a step, blown back as if her mother’s tirade was a physical force. When the back of her knees hit the upholstered chair she folded down onto it, too drained and ashamed to stand against her mother’s words.
Once again, it was Ryan who stepped into the breach. “Mrs. Santiago, I appreciate that you’re unhappy, but you’re upsetting Jessica, and that can’t be good for the baby.”
Was he right? God, this was hard, this second-guessing everything. But true or not, his words had the intended effect. Her mother blinked, a
nd just like that the anger died down.
“A baby.” She blinked again, her eyes filling. “My baby is having a baby.” Her voice cracked, and a tear slipped down her face.
Jessica felt her own eyes misting. “Yes, Mama. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry? Mija, don’t be sorry. A baby is a blessing.”
Jessica shook her head. “Then why were you were just ripping into me in Spanish? I’m a bit rusty, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t some traditional Puerto Rican blessing. Unless selfish and stupid are considered compliments these days.”
Her mom gave a watery laugh patting the cushion next to her for Ryan to sit. “I’m not angry about the baby. I’m angry that my only daughter ran off and got married without me! I’m the one who is stupid—not you—for not realizing my little girl was in love. I should have known.”
Great, a whole new thing to feel guilty about. She’d known her mother would be upset to miss her chance at being the mother of the bride. Mother of the knocked-up newlywed just didn’t have the same prestige. And now her mother was actually blaming herself for missing signs of her daughter’s nonexistent love affair. It was too much to bear.
“No, Mama, we just...”
“Got caught up in the moment,” Ryan supplied, keeping Jessica from blurting out the whole sordid story. “We’re sorry we didn’t tell you first, but it all happened so fast.”
That, at least, was the truth. And it seemed to satisfy her mother. Of course, she was probably picturing a couple so madly in love they couldn’t help but rush to the altar. Not a panicked mother-to-be hastily considering the pros and cons of housing and health insurance plans.
Or a woman desperate enough to marry for access to her money.
No. Her mother never needed to know that this was a marriage of convenience. Such a stupid term anyway—so far nothing about this was convenient. She would do what she had to in order to gain access to her inheritance, to make sure her baby got what he or she needed. But she wasn’t proud of herself. And she wasn’t going to break her mother’s heart by telling her the truth. Lying might be a sin, but by this point she’d racked up enough of those that one more shouldn’t matter. She wasn’t trying to get to heaven, but maybe, if they managed to pull this off, she might avoid her own personal hell on earth.