A Chance for Us (Willow Creek Valley Book 4)

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A Chance for Us (Willow Creek Valley Book 4) Page 11

by Corinne Michaels


  I will never forget a single second of this walk with him.

  All the dreams I had of being a little girl and getting married could never measure up to this.

  We reach the end of the aisle way too soon. Oliver steps forward, his eyes a little glossy.

  Daddy raises my veil and then kisses my cheek. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you more.” My vision is blurry from all the unshed tears.

  He turns to Oliver, placing my hand in his. “I give you the most valuable thing I have. I hope you know that.”

  “I do,” Oliver says with a strength in his voice.

  When my father steps back, Oliver and I release a sigh as we step up to where Mark stands.

  “Dearly beloved,” he begins, “I am your faithful servant of all things weddings, and it is my great honor to be here today where I am able to send my blessings to everyone.”

  “Oh, here we go,” Jackson mutters from his seat behind us.

  “Love is something we can all celebrate. It is all around us each day, and these two, well, these two are something else. I’ve had the privilege of getting to know them. Maren is a wonderful woman, a little extreme at times, but you know . . . women.”

  I glare at him, but he carries on, totally unfazed.

  “Oliver is giving, loyal, and honorable. I know this because he’s willing to do just about anything for those who matter to him.”

  I glance over at Ollie, who casts me a worried look. Mark is definitely not who I should’ve let lead this. My ex would have been less of a risk.

  “The world is full of selfishness and greed, but when I look at this couple, I see the opposite. Here stand two people who are willing to give each other whatever they need, regardless of their own wants. Maren and Oliver, please face each other.”

  We do, and I’m so nervous that I’m trembling. Oliver smiles reassuringly and rubs the top of my hand. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

  “Maren, repeat after me,” Mark instructs.

  I say each word, staring into Oliver’s blue eyes and wishing this could be a fraction of the truth. That we would love, honor, and cherish each other.

  Oliver repeats the same vows without any outward nerves, and I envy him.

  I wish I didn’t feel like I was about to fall apart.

  We exchange rings, and then, before I know it, he’s pulling me into his arms.

  My wrists are behind his neck, and this kiss is like every one that I’ve shared with him . . . incredible.

  Applause erupts behind us, and we break the kiss before laughing slightly.

  “Thank you.”

  He leans closer. “If I only ever have one wedding, I’m glad it was this one.”

  We hug a few people because that’s what you do when you pretend to marry someone and then we head out, both breathless and laughing as we wait for everyone to follow out behind us.

  Fifteen

  OLIVER

  My brothers are the first to congratulate us. It’s surreal. This is supposed to be fake. All of it, and yet, it felt so damn real. The entire time, I just kept thinking about who else I could see myself with and there was no one.

  Each time I tried to picture the girl at the altar with me, I saw Maren.

  Even with Devney standing right behind her, which I thought would be insanely awkward, all I saw was Maren. All I felt was her.

  I was grateful I was supposed to act that way and think I sold it.

  Her father is the last person out, Linda holding onto his arm. He hugs me, thanking me again, and then he and Maren embrace.

  This. This moment is why I did this. To see their relief and joy is worth it.

  “Can we go to the back room to talk for a second?” he asks Maren and me.

  Maren looks worried but says, “Sure, is everything okay?”

  He nods and takes Linda’s hand. “Of course.” Mark appears before we walk off, and Patrick smiles. “Oh, good. You need to come too.”

  “Go where?” Mark asks.

  “We are going to the back room to discuss something. Do you have the license with you?”

  Mark nods. “I have it right here, but I’m going to handle that later.”

  “No need for that, son. Linda and I would be honored to be their witnesses. Every part of this is so special to me.”

  Oh fucking hell. I blink a few times, and Maren speaks quickly.

  “Oh, no, Daddy, that’s okay. We’ll sign it later. I’m sure Mark wants to see his wife.”

  Daddy looks to Mark. “You can’t wait three minutes?”

  Mark opens his mouth a few times. “I . . . can . . . but—”

  “Good, we’ll take care of it.” He turns to me. “And then we can give you two your wedding gift.”

  Linda and Patrick head toward the back room, but Mark, Maren, and I stand frozen, not sure what the hell to do or how to get out of this. I can’t sign that piece of paper. I can’t actually be married to Maren.

  Mark turns to us. “Now what?”

  Maren shakes her head, her eyes wide with panic. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. Someone tell me what we do.”

  I close my eyes and sigh. “We go, sign the thing, and figure it out afterward. If Mark never files it, then it’s not official, right?”

  Mark shrugs. “Yeah, technically. I think . . .”

  “You think?” Maren hisses. “What kind of ordained minister are you?”

  He chuckles. “The kind who got certified online. Listen, I’m sure Oliver is right. We’ll just sign it, and I’ll shred it later. No worries.”

  Patrick stops and calls our names, and all three of us turn like prairie dogs. There’s nothing we can do at this point other than see it through. I take Maren’s hand in mine and squeeze. “Let’s go.”

  “We can’t.”

  I turn to Mark. “Go stall and give us a second?”

  “I’m on it.”

  He walks ahead, leading Patrick and Linda into one of the offices down the hall.

  “Come, let’s go. It’ll be fine.”

  Maren keeps her voice low. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  “I know.”

  “This is too much.”

  I stop a few feet away, taking both her hands in mine. “What options do we have?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Maren looks like she’s about to have a full-on breakdown. “We just stood before our families and got married, so we’ve kind of gone too far to turn back now. In for a penny and all that.”

  “And if you actually end up legally married to me?”

  “Then we get a divorce and it’ll just be a funny story we tell down the line.”

  I’m actually hoping that if Mark doesn’t file the thing it won’t be legal, but if that isn’t the case, then she and I will have the shortest marriage in history.

  We enter the room, and Mark already has the marriage license on the table. “So, this is it. Oliver and Maren sign first and then the witnesses.”

  Maren walks over, holding the back of her dress off the floor. “Right. I’ll sign here.”

  She takes the pen, signs, and then hands it to me.

  This is something I will never tell my siblings. Let them think this never happened. I sign it quickly, before handing the pen to Patrick so he and Linda can sign too.

  Mark grabs it. “And that’s all. I’m going to find my wife, and I’ll see you all at the reception.”

  After he leaves, Patrick turns to us, looking exhausted. “Your mother, Linda, and I have a gift for you,” he says before pulling out an envelope and handing it to Maren.

  “We don’t need anything,” she says, holding it.

  “Maybe that’s true, but I need to give it to you. Open it when you two are alone.” He kisses her cheek.

  “Let’s get you seated at the table. You’re worn out,” Linda says as she helps him up.

  “It’s a . . . long day,” he says with a smile.

  She nods. “Yes, and you will need a week t
o recuperate.”

  They leave, and Maren leans back against the table. After a few minutes of us staring at each other, she sighs. “Well, it seems we might actually be married.”

  “It seems it. Maybe.”

  “Maybe.”

  Maren smiles. “I swear, if there is money in this envelope, it’s yours.”

  “I don’t need you to pay me. You’ve already given me a vacation, which I hear you’re coming with me on.”

  She looks away, biting her lower lip. “It was Stella’s idea. Until my father passes away, she thought we should keep up appearances as much as we can. Plus, since it’s in South Carolina, I can be close in case . . .”

  I nod. “In case . . .”

  Maren steps toward me, her hands move to my shirt and she adjusts my collar. “You had a crease.”

  “Thanks for fixing it.”

  “What are wives for?”

  I laugh once. “Now what?”

  “Now,” she says solemnly, “we go in there and we have a really fun party. Tomorrow, we go on vacation, and when we get back, we figure out if we’re legally married and I start trying to figure out how I can ever actually repay you for this.”

  “Welcome to the club,” Jack says, slapping me on the shoulder. “You’re a married man now.”

  “Kind of,” Grayson says with a smirk.

  Maybe not as kind of as they think. “You’re both assholes.”

  “We know.”

  “Good, as long as no one is confused.”

  Thank God that Josh is dancing with Delia and not here to harass me with them.

  “Do you need the talk?” Grayson asks with complete seriousness.

  “What talk?”

  Jack laughs. “The one about protection and what happens on your wedding night.”

  Fuck these two. “You are one to talk about protection. Either of you.” Gray and Jack knocked up their wives before marriage. At least I’m possibly legally married. Besides, I don’t need to worry about that shit anyway because I have zero plans to sleep with her.

  “This is true, but we’re not virgins.”

  “I’m not either.”

  Grayson grips my shoulder. “It’s okay, Ollie. Some men like to wait—at least, that’s what we hear.”

  “You’re both fucking stupid.” I drop my voice to a whisper. “And I’m not married, so . . .”

  “Maybe she’ll blow you as a thank you,” Jack suggests.

  I’m going to blow my gasket if these two don’t shut up. But then the image of Maren on her knees, my cock in her mouth with her blonde hair falling down her back, hits me, and I might blow something else.

  Damn them.

  I turn my head, knowing that this conversation isn’t going to get any better, and see her. She’s dancing with her uncle, smiling as though the world is perfect, and even though none of this is real, her smile is. The weight of the world that has rested on her shoulders seems to have lifted, and I can at least be happy for that.

  “Look at her,” I say to them. “Regardless of what you both think, I helped her give her father something that matters.”

  Jack clears his throat. “You did the right thing. No matter what the two of us are joking about.”

  “It sucks, though,” Grayson adds.

  “What does?”

  “That it’s not real. I pretty much gave up on love and marriage after Jess and Yvette. I was fine with it too. Honestly, women are a lot of work.”

  Jack nods. “Try being married to Stella.” Gray and I give him an icy glare. “Oh, please. Let’s remember that all you Parkerson brothers were praying for me when I asked for permission. Let’s not pretend like everyone in this room doesn’t know the woman I love is a lot of work.”

  “True, but we can say that because we’re her brothers,” I inform him.

  “Exactly,” Grayson says in support. “You’re not allowed to.”

  “I’m married to her!”

  “Your choice,” I say without apologies.

  Grayson nods. “Yup.”

  “You two are ridiculous.”

  “No one is denying that, but back to Oliver being pathetic.”

  I hate my brother. “I’m not pathetic.”

  “You kind of are,” Jack agrees.

  “Only because you’re pretending as if this doesn’t bother you,” Grayson finishes his original statement about it sucking.

  I am so done with this conversation. “You’re the only thing bothering me.”

  Jack turns to Grayson. “You’re not bothering me.”

  “You’re not bothering me either.” Gray smiles.

  “The only person bothered by this is the one who is denying his true heart’s dream.”

  I blink a few times, wondering what alternate world I’m in. “True heart’s dream?” I ask slowly. “You’ve spent way too much time watching fairy tales with Amelia. Jesus.”

  “We’ll get to that in a second, but he’s right.”

  I let out a loud sigh, wishing there was some emergency at the resort that I was the only one capable of dealing with so I could leave. I catch Maren’s eyes, and lift my hand, hoping she’ll come rescue me from Dumb and Dumber. She smiles, sways from side to side, and sips her drink.

  She is so goddamn beautiful.

  Someone punches my arm, and my hand goes to the spot and starts to rub it. “Ouch, you fucker. What the hell was that for?”

  “For staring at your fake wife and acting like you don’t like her.”

  “I do like her,” I clarify. “I never said I didn’t. You two are the ones spouting shit about my heart and crap. I’m just here for the fun parts, okay. While you two are following your wives and kids around, trying to make them happy, I’ve already accomplished that, and now I get to enjoy a party and then spend time at the beach.”

  “And you’ll see all the shit you won’t have,” Grayson says without any humor. “You’re going to remember all the things you wanted, Oliver. Whether you believe it or not, it’s not going to be so easy to walk away from it and go back to being alone. I guarantee it.”

  I will not let him in my fucking head. I am well aware that I’ll be alone. I’m the only single one left other than Alex, but he’s in Egypt, living his best life. I’m here with all the happily married idiots. There’s nothing that I’m more aware of than the fact that I’m living at the resort because I have nothing else.

  Even the RV I was staying in is gone.

  No, now, I live in a small cabin on the property so I can always be on call.

  I down the glass of whiskey in one gulp. “On that note, I’m going to do all the fun stuff I was talking about and dance with my fake wife.”

  Fuck reality, I’m going to enjoy the fantasy for today.

  Sixteen

  MAREN

  “Did you have fun today?” Oliver asks as we dance in front of our family and friends for our last dance.

  “I did. Your sister did an amazing job.”

  “Spending other people’s money is my sister’s true calling in life.” The clinking of glasses starts again. “Fucking Christ. I’m going to kill my brothers.”

  We lean in and kiss, my heart melting with how much I like this. How easy kissing him is, and a part of me aches because it’ll be over once we leave the reception. We’ll go on our vacation, hang out at the beach for five days, and then come back to our separate realities. When my father passes away, that’ll be it. Oliver and I can go back to just being friends.

  And that makes me sad.

  Our song ends, and the DJ calls everyone to the floor before starting the next song. At least we won’t be forced to kiss again. He holds me close, swaying in perfect rhythm. “What do we do about tonight?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we have to stay in the suite together.”

  Oliver smiles. “We do.”

  “I just . . . I don’t know what . . . you . . .” Good grief, I sound ridiculous. We are thirty-one years old, not fifteen. We can
sleep in the same room and not have it be a big deal.

  It’s just that I’m wearing this dress and my emotions are a bit too close to the surface.

  “We’ll be fine,” Oliver assures me. “I’m sure we can manage.”

  “You’re right. I think my brain is exhausted from overthinking everything.”

  “I’m sure. Are you at least feeling relieved we pulled it off?”

  “I am,” I tell him honestly. “It’s hard, though, because I’m happy that we did this but I’m also a bit sad because I know this might be the last memory I have with my dad before he dies. I’m incredibly grateful to you, Oliver. You have no idea. I had the most perfect wedding. Truly. This was everything I could’ve dreamed of, but . . .”

  “But it was with the wrong guy.” The way his voice cracks at the end causes me to jerk my head back.

  “No. It’s not that.”

  “I just mean that I was not supposed to be the Oliver standing here.”

  He’s right that he wasn’t supposed to be him, but that’s not what I was thinking. He is the right Oliver. He is everything, and if I had gone through with the wedding that was planned, it wouldn’t have been this perfect. Oliver Parkerson is warm and inviting. He welcomed my family, and while our being in love was all for show, the way he acted wasn’t.

  Had I actually married my ex-fiancé, nothing would’ve gone as smoothly. He is nice, yes, but he’s not comforting. There’s no way he would’ve fit in with my uncles the way Ollie did, and my stepmother would have eaten him alive.

  “Maybe not, but I know I married the best Oliver today,” I say softly.

  Slowly, I raise my gaze to meet his, and the desire swimming in his eyes weakens my knees. He leans in, without anyone tapping on glass or analyzing our interactions, and presses his lips to mine.

  It’s soft, sweet, and tinted with something more.

  This is crazy.

  Absolutely insane because I shouldn’t want him to keep kissing me, but God, I do.

 

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