by Max Monroe
Tears filled my eyes, and I smiled bigger than I’d probably smiled my entire life.
“So, you’re going to marry me tomorrow?” I asked, and my voice rose three octaves higher. “Like, you’re really going to marry me tomorrow?”
“Yes, Charlotte Hollis.” Nick grinned at my enthusiasm. “Tomorrow, I’m going to make you Mrs. Charlotte Raines.”
I squealed and hopped off the bed. “Oh my God! What am I going to wear?”
“First, you’re going to get your ass back in bed, and we’re going to get some sleep,” he said with nothing but love in his eyes. “And then, when we wake up tomorrow, we’ll both be thankful that I’m extremely close friends with Judge Miller and he owes me a favor. Otherwise, making a marriage license and a marriage appear on a Saturday in NYC would be impossible.”
I hopped back into the bed and climbed my way back onto his big, muscular body. “And then what are we going to do?” I asked and waggled my brows.
He grinned, humoring me. “Then, we’re going to get married.”
I squealed again in response, and Nick laughed and kissed me softly.
Before my brain could start panicking again about coming up with a wedding dress last minute, Nick flipped off the lights. He gently slid me to my side and wrapped his arms around my body, cuddling me close to his chest.
“Ugh. I’m too excited to sleep,” I whispered, and I could literally hear his smile form in the stillness of our bedroom.
“Just close your eyes,” he whispered and started gently running his fingers through my hair. “Tomorrow, you’re going to make me the luckiest man in the world.”
I wanted to refute his statement, or at least give an add-on, acknowledging the fact that he was making me the luckiest woman in the world, but his fingers, and my hair, and goodness gracious, a girl could only stay awake so long when they were being gently stroked like a cat.
Tomorrow, I’d get to marry my best friend.
At exactly three in the afternoon, after Judge Miller had pulled through, we were inside the otherwise closed building of City Hall on a Saturday. I had no idea how Nick had managed to pull it all off, but somehow, someway, he did.
Not only had he made it possible for us to get married, but besides our most important guest, Lexi—who’d enthusiastically dressed herself in a pink, sparkly dress with a pair of Converse—he’d also managed to invite a few other guests along. Doreen and Harry—who were still living comfortably in my house—my parents—whom he’d somehow managed to fly in from Boca Raton on short notice—his parents, my bitches, Harper and Ivy, and surprisingly, and with nothing but love and support in their eyes, Wes and Winnie.
The instant they’d stepped through City Hall’s doors, both Nick and I had been shocked to say the least, but Winnie had been the one to make things feel nothing less than normal. She’d given us her heartfelt congratulations, even telling me that she couldn’t have been happier that I would be a permanent fixture in Lex’s life.
All of the bad blood I’d thought had been between us was nonexistent.
My past with her brother Remy was just that. The past. I didn’t expect we’d receive a wedding gift from him anytime soon, but he hadn’t left any bags of burning shit on our doorstep either. As far as Nick and I were concerned, that was good enough.
And now, Nick was my future. The man I’d spend the rest of my days with, laughing, loving, and just living in our own little bubble of happiness.
I stood across from Nick, hand in hand, with the minister standing in front of us and an opened Bible in his hands. “Are you ready to start?” he asked.
“I couldn’t be readier,” my soon-to-be husband answered, and I smiled.
And then, at exactly 3:15 p.m. with the bride wearing a cute little cream dress and the groom dressed in gray dress slacks and baby blue dress shirt, and with everyone who was most important in our lives near, we said our vows and exchanged our rings.
“I promise to support you in good times and in bad, at sheriff’s auctions, and kitschy diners, and to be nothing more than a solid foundation of moral support for you and Lexi at trivia nights,” Nick had promised.
“I promise to stay with you forever, long past the short-term window of your reality show fame, well into the days where you’re not nearly as cute and are even more dense. Though, I suspect part of that will be because you’re hard of hearing,” I had vowed.
The small crowd laughed.
We promised our love.
And most importantly, we promised each other our future.
“By the power vested in me by the great state of New York,” the minister announced with a soft smile etched across his lips. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
Nick grasped both of my cheeks into his palms and whispered, “I love you,” against my lips before pressing his mouth to mine. The kiss was soft, sweet, gentle, and filled with nothing but love and adoration.
And all I could think the entire time was, He’s my husband. I’m kissing my husband!
I was officially Mrs. Charlotte Raines.
It sure has a nice ring to it, huh?
It was the best of times.
It was far from the worst of times.
And yet, Harry and Doreen were still living in Charlotte’s house.
It’d been months since our wedding day, and the place in Chinatown had officially loaded my entire wardrobe with the smell of fried wontons. The turnover on the commercial space below—what would forever be known as “Chinatown Hell”—was ever-rolling, but the roll of the dice had been in our favor until now.
Now, there was an all-hours restaurant at our feet. Convenient, maybe. But mostly fucking annoying.
Sure, my place was there, but it’d only be an option for another two weeks when my lease ran its course. We’d been rotating back and forth for the most part, one month we’d stay at my place, the next month at Charlotte’s, but we’d agreed it was time to put down real roots and grow them together. We were married now, and living apart wasn’t an option. But living in Chinatown long term wasn’t either.
I liked Chinese food as much as the next person, but it was covering up Charlotte’s lavender. And that, I couldn’t abide. We needed a plan, and we needed it now.
“What are we going to do about Harry and Doreen, Char?”
“I don’t know, husband. Why don’t you figure out what we’re going to do? I thought that was the point of having someone lawfully bound to me.”
I smirked. “And what point is that, exactly?”
“To handle all of the shitty decisions,” she clarified without shame. I laughed outright.
“If that were the case, wouldn’t we just get stuck in a devolving cycle of neither of us taking responsibility? After all, you’re lawfully bound to me. Wouldn’t that mean you’re supposed to handle the shitty decisions, too?”
“I hate when you make sense. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
I clucked. “I’m pretty sure you’re always telling me to make more sense. In fact, just last week, you told me, and I quote, ‘Goddammit, you’re fucking awful at this. At least say something that makes sense.’ End quote.”
She threw her top at me instead of shoving it into her suitcase and shrieked. “Don’t you dare use my trivia-night hysteria against me. You know I panic when Lexi can’t make it!”
“All right. That was a low blow, I suppose,” I consoled. “What would you like me to do about Harry and Doreen, dear?”
“I want you to get them out while I’m in Rochester,” she said simply. She’d be gone for a couple of days on business, something that happened rarely, but happened. And apparently, she was just as done with Chinatown as I was.
“Okay,” I agreed, trying to give her what she needed with the simplest form of support. No arguments, no justifications, no teasing.
She frowned. “Just okay? Just like that?”
I sighed, but kept my mouth shut for a moment. I knew my wife well enough to know she’d have
more questions to get through before I’d get an opportunity to answer.
“Doreen and Harry are like family, and you’re just okay with putting them out on the street after all they’ve been through?”
“Is there an answer key to this test? Please?” I pleaded. “I fear I’ll fail without it.”
She pouted and sank into my arms. “I just want you to find a way for me to have both. Isn’t there a way for you to do that? Fucking superhero this shit, Raines.”
A stroke of genius hit me at once.
Maybe there was.
“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll dig my cape out of the closet while you’re gone.”
“Good. But if you find a damsel in distress other than me, I’ll cut your nuts off.”
Winnie winked at me as Wes scooted out in front of her, carrying one of the last boxes. I hadn’t slept at all this weekend, and I’d called in any favor ever created, but we were finally almost done implementing my plan to surprise my wife with the best of both worlds.
I’d spent way too much money to make it happen, and I’d had to bribe the homeowners with any future lottery winnings, but I’d managed to secure the house next door to Doreen and Harry. Having remembered the For Sale sign the last time Charlotte had dragged me down the block for a longing look, I’d gotten directly on the phone with their real estate agent the minute my wife had stepped over the airline threshold headed for Rochester.
I’d come in high immediately, knowing I didn’t have time for back-and-forth bullshit, and secured the deal nearly instantly. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough incentive on its own to get them to leave in a weekend’s worth of time, so I’d had to sweeten the pot. The cost of moving, plus closing, plus real estate fees, plus free brain surgery for life—just in case.
“I can’t believe you convinced these people to get out so quickly,” Winnie said, and I shrugged.
“I’m just charming, I guess.”
She fucking shouted her laugh in my face. “Yeah, okay. Lucky, maybe.”
Just then, Remy pushed his way through me, literally, with a sharp-edged box in hand, to make his way down the stairs. But he was there. And he was helping. I counted that as a win.
“Now, that,” Winnie muttered. “That I don’t know how you pulled off.”
I shrugged. “He hated me before, and he still hates me now.”
“Yeah, but he’s helping you through the rage. That’s a breakthrough.”
I laughed. “I don’t know. Charlotte apparently ran into him one day before we got back together. She said he was pretty accepting of the whole thing.”
“Or he’s just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.”
“Jesus, Win.” I looked over my shoulder to see Remy mean mugging me as he walked into the house next door. “Why do you have to do me like that?”
She smiled. “Because it’s fun. When’s Charlotte supposed to get back, anyway?”
“Any minute.”
“And how are you getting her here?”
“I told her Doreen and Harry are cooking dinner.” Considering Charlotte was under the impression I’d given her tenants the official “get the fuck out” boot while she’d been in Rochester, she most likely thought it was a last big comfort food hurrah sort of thing.
But obviously, being the good husband I was, I had an ace up my sleeve.
“Perfect.” Winnie’s smile turned conspiratorial.
The entirety of our weird little family huddled into the house next door with the lights turned out, we watched as Charlotte pulled up to her house in a cab, grabbed her suitcase, paid the driver, and climbed out.
Doreen squealed a little as Charlotte turned to the dark house and frowned, and then turned back to find the cab already gone.
Hesitantly, she moved forward and knocked on the door, waiting for a Harry and Doreen that would never come.
When she moved back down the stairs and pulled her phone from her bag, I walked out of the front door of our compound. The house next door.
My first official rental property, and Harry and Doreen’s new home.
Charlotte looked to me quickly without paying much mind, but as her brain caught up to the cues of her sight, her gaze jerked back.
“Nick?”
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“What…what are you doing inside that house?”
I smiled and shrugged innocently. “Harry and Doreen’s for dinner, remember?”
“But…”
Her eyebrows pinched together, and her hair flew as she swung her head back to her house and then to me again. “Doreen and Harry’s…”
“I superheroed it, Char. We’ve got a place, and so do Doreen and Harry. Right next door. I’m thinking we won the neighbor lottery, aren’t you?”
“Nick,” she whispered.
“I’m hoping this means better things for my nuts, baby.”
Down with a thump, her bag hit the concrete and her body hit my own.
“Happy to be lawfully bound to me?” I asked cheekily.
“Always,” she cried. “Always.”
Thanks to Nick, I was finally enjoying the “moving week” I’d been dreaming about since I’d won this home at the sheriff’s auction.
To say he’d surprised the hell out of me was the understatement of the century.
There was no doubt about it, my husband was my superhero.
Sure, Nick had completed most of the moving the weekend prior, but I still had the finishing touches to implement.
Yesterday, we’d painted the living room and dining room. And the day before that, the master bedroom and bathrooms.
And today, with Winnie as my assistant extraordinaire, and while Lex was at school, we were one hundred percent focused on Lexi’s bedroom.
“God, I really hope she ends up liking this room,” I muttered as I moved my rolling brush through the fresh cream paint. I’d chosen to go neutral in terms of wall color for her room. Lex wasn’t the type of girl who went gaga over pink and purple. She’d choose simple and clean over bright and girly any day of the week.
Winnie laughed beside me and flashed a wry grin.
“What?” I questioned and started rolling the paint across the wall in big, long stripes. “What’s so funny?”
“Char, you stalked two of the most prestigious physics and calculus professors at NYU to get them to help you design wall stencils for your stepdaughter. Not to mention, you somehow managed to get an obscure little mom-and-pop printing place in Harlem to print out giant stencils with equations that, let’s face it, neither of us understands.” Her smile grew bigger. “You have nothing to be worried about. Lexi is going to go crazy over this room.”
Okay, so I’d gone a little cuckoo getting Lex’s room set up. I wanted her to have the perfect space, one that made her feel happy, relaxed, and even challenged that incredible mind of hers.
Once I’d explained my stalking to Professor Reemlin and Professor Denier, instead of filing a restraining order, they willingly helped me out and provided me with a few of the most difficult physics and calculus equations that most college-level students never mastered. They’d also told me that if Lexi was able to figure them out, I should feel free to stalk them some more—but bring my stepdaughter along the next time.
Obviously, if Lex could solve the equations, I wouldn’t have a fucking clue, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t be the last time we’d see Professor Reemlin and Professor Denier.
I sighed. “You really think so?”
She nodded and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “I know so.”
“You know what?”
“What?”
“I’m happy we’re friends again,” I answered with a smile and nudged Winnie’s shoulder with my own.
Ever since Nick and I had gotten back together, Winnie and I had slowly started building the friendship we’d lost so many years ago. We’d started off slow, baby steps, so to speak, occasionally meeting for lunch or having fifteen-minute phone chats, but eventually, we�
��d found ourselves right where we’d left off over thirteen years ago. The very best of friends.
It was weird the way life worked sometimes. I’d never expected to come face-to-face with Remy again, and yet, not only had we finally reached that monumental moment of closure in the middle of a produce aisle, but we still frequently saw each other because his favorite niece was now my stepdaughter.
And when it came to Winnie, she had been someone I’d thought I had to lose once I’d ended things with her brother. But lucky for me, it didn’t have to be that way, and now, she was one of my nearest and dearest friends.
She nudged my shoulder back. “Me too, Char.”
“Okay, good. Because I’m hoping, later, after we finish putting the three coats of paint on this room, that you’ll also be willing to help me stencil those equations. Like, I’m beyond excited that I was able to get them made, but I’m a little intimated by them.”
Winnie laughed. “I see how it is. Buttering me up first with the whole sweet friendship thing before going in for the kill, huh?”
I snorted. “I swear to God, I meant everything I said. Including the fact that I desperately, desperately need your help with those stencils.”
“Don’t even start with the whole puppy dog eyes bullshit. It might work on Nick, but it doesn’t work on me. Anyway, I already said I would help, you little manipulator.” With her free hand to her hip, she rolled her brush into the paint, before lifting it carefully to the wall and starting a rhythm of long and smooth paint strokes.
“It doesn’t work on him every time,” I said, and she lifted a questioning brow in my direction. “Okay, fine. It works like a charm every single time.”
“I pull the same look on Wes.” She winked. “He falls for it, too.”
By the time Nick had peeked his head into the door, we were both cracking up over the various little tricks we used on our husbands to get what we wanted.
“What’s so funny in here?” he questioned with an amused but extremely curious grin.
I shrugged, and I couldn’t stop myself from teasing him. “Oh, not too much. Winnie and I were just sharing our various Nick-related bedroom experiences.”