9. Avery
Chapter 9
Avery
I never thought seeing a bird would matter so much to me. But seeing a bald eagle through Valentina’s eyes made an impression. The awe and gratitude in her expression, the excitement in the lines bracketing her mouth—she was riding a natural high that I got in on just by my proximity to her. Just by caring about something that she cares for deeply.
I’ve never experienced that apart from football. And certainly not for someone else, about something I know little about. But standing next to the creek, consuming the glorious scene before us, and holding Valentina’s hand changed something between us.
It made us true allies instead of two parties coming to an agreement. We’re in this, whatever the hell it is, for better or worse.
And when I wake up on my wedding day, I’m excited for the next chapter. I want to experience whatever the hell is about to come my way with Valentina by my side.
I dress in a simple navy suit, pausing to fasten my cuff links, and taking extra time to style my hair in the mirror over the hotel room’s desk. Valentina has claimed the bathroom and while she’s a no-frills girl, there’s an anticipation in the air that causes us to slow down this morning.
We woke up leisurely, looked at each other, and laughed. We ate pancakes and sipped coffee in the hotel’s restaurant for breakfast. Our conversation was easy, yet I noticed the spark in Valentina’s eyes. There was a shyness, a sweetness, in her gaze.
Today, I make her my wife.
My wife.
Two words I never thought I’d say, much less own.
Valentina opens the bathroom door, and I turn slowly. When she steps into the hotel room, I exhale audibly.
“You look beautiful.” It’s the truth. She’s a fucking vision in creamy lace. Her dress is simple, skimming the tops of her knees, and delicately draping over her shoulders. It’s flirty and romantic and it suits her perfectly. “I like your kicks.” I laugh, noting her practical white sneakers. The laces are some kind of delicate, ivory lace to match her dress. It’s the perfect combination of dressy yet functional. Something I know Valentina values.
She grins back. “Had to keep it real.” Her gaze sweeps over my frame and I stand still, waiting for her assessment. “You look good, Avery.”
“How good?” I quip.
Her cheeks turn that delicate shade of pink I’m starting to love. “Good enough.”
I snort. “You ready?”
Valentina exhales. “Ready.” Then, a small frown dips between her brows. “Wait, you’re certain we filed all the proper forms?”
“Had my lawyer go through them twice.”
“Okay,” she breathes out nervously. We read through all the documents earlier in the week, each signing and initialing where necessary. Valentina meets my eyes and gives me a nod.
I move toward the door. “Let’s get hitched, Lena.”
“Okay, Avery.” With her shoulders back and her chin held high, Valentina Garcia strides from the hotel like a woman who knows exactly what she wants.
And right now, it’s to become my wife.
I park in front of the local courthouse and glance at Valentina. Her knuckles are practically white from how hard she’s gripping the door handle. Her bravado faltered the moment she clipped in her seat belt, and with each passing street on the drive here, she withdrew more into herself.
Shit. I turn off the engine and lean back in the driver’s side.
“Valentina, look at me.”
She does. I hate the fear that rings her irises.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask.
It’s her last chance to back out.
Her tongue swipes over her bottom lip, slightly smudging the pink lipstick she’s wearing. She nods.
Damn.
“I need the words, sweetheart.”
“I’m sure.” She looks anything but certain.
I sigh and reach over the center console to clasp her hand. “I know this is crazy and if you’re having second thoughts, tell me and?—”
“We’re gonna have to kiss,” she blurts out, cutting me off.
“What?”
Valentina winces and gestures toward the courthouse. “We’re going to have to kiss,” she hisses.
“Okay,” I say slowly.
She shakes off my touch and wrings her hands together. “I don’t—” She looks at me and frowns. “I’m not good at?—”
Leaning over the center console, I slide my hand to the back of her neck and tug her closer. “Do you trust me?”
Her eyes jump to mine, wide and so damn blue, they nearly glow. But she doesn’t look scared. “Yes.” It’s a whisper. It’s permission to my unasked question.
“Good.” I arc my mouth over hers and kiss her.
It’s meant to be sweet and gentle.
Instead, it’s wild and desperate.
The second I taste her sugar, I want more. My hand slides up from her neck to cradle the back of her head, before slipping to her cheek. Valentina parts her lips and presses into me.
And I don’t waste a second taking more. I want her on a level that is purely molecular. Lust and passion and need.
Valentina whimpers and the sound hits me like a shot of adrenaline. I deepen our kiss, my other hand gripping her hip.
We’re making out like two teenagers on a freaking scenic pass instead of a bride and groom about to be wed.
A loud knock sounds on the passenger side window, and I rip my mouth away from Lena’s to see who the fuck is interrupting us.
A man I don’t recognize, his hand loosely linked with a woman wearing white, grins at me. “Plenty of time for that, mate. Don’t miss your appointment. Make an honest woman of her!” He laughs and his fiancée grins, waving at us.
“Shit,” I mutter, closing my eyes and dropping my forehead to Valentina’s.
The engaged couple, here for the same reason as us, wanders off.
I expect to feel Valentina’s embarrassment. Instead, she laughs. “That was…wow.”
I pull away from her and smirk. “Yeah?”
She nods, blushing.
“That was just the beginning, babe,” I promise, wincing at how fucking lame I sound. “Come on, let’s get in there.”
We exit the car and walk into the courthouse.
It’s a stately building and I exchange a knowing chin tilt with the dude that knocked on the window. Valentina and I watch as he marries his love and then, it’s our turn.
The ceremony promises to be simple. Quick. Efficient.
We stand in front of a judge and hold hands, our palms pressed together in promise. I stare into Valentina’s blue-green, bottomless eyes and feel like my future is opening in ways I never anticipated. I never thought I was capable of this, of being a husband, but in this moment, it feels like it’s the only thing I was ever meant to be.
I feel a thousand fucking feet tall.
We say our vows. Valentina slides a simple, gold band onto my ring finger and with the weight of it, something significant shifts in my chest.
I kept thinking about this agreement with her as an arrangement. But right now, looking into her eyes, exchanging vows and rings, the depth of it hits me. I’m marrying Valentina Garcia.
When I slip a diamond eternity band on Valentina’s ring finger, she gasps. Her eyes fly to mine—surprised and happy—and I hold her gaze, letting her see that I’m just as happy about our marriage. Even if it will never be real in the traditional sense, right now, it sure as hell feels that way.
“You may kiss the bride,” the judge says.
A smirk plays over Valentina’s mouth as she bites her bottom lip. I grin back, close the space between us, and kiss the hell out of her.
As the other couples present clap and cheer, I feel Valentina smile against my lips. “We did it.”
I pull back slightly to press a kiss to her cheek. “Congratulations, Mrs. Callaway.”
She sucks in another breath, the realization of our nuptials dawning.
I grin and take her hand. “Come on. We need champagne.”
“We do?”
“We’re celebrating, babe.”
“For the immigration photos?” she whispers quietly as we leave the courtroom.
I work a swallow, my throat dry. I glance at her and read the expectation in her face. “Sure. For the photos.”
The words taste sour as I say them because they’re only partly true. And I don’t want to examine what that means.
Instead, I want to enjoy the rest of my wedding day with my wife.
So, I do.