Everything I Dreamed (Everhope Road #2)

14. Hailey

14

HAILEY

P acing outside the courthouse, I wonder what the hell I’m doing. I stop mid-stride and pull out my lip balm to spread a layer onto my lips. It’s sunny out, mid-afternoon, and a weekday. Some county clerk just walked by and dropped a paper and smiled hello when he swooped down to pick it up. This is a normal workday.

Except for me. It’s my wedding day.

This isn’t how I planned to get married. Not in a million years. It isn’t me. I’m missing the long white dress; instead, I’m in a short white cotton dress that I would wear to a BBQ, paired with a light jean jacket. I get points for the white, right? My parents and brother aren’t here. Nor friends. My macaroon cake is nowhere to be seen. Sadly, no dog carrying rings, either.

It’s all okay because this isn’t supposed to be real.

Still, leave it to Oliver to handle everything, and it took only a few days for today to happen.

During the last few days, every time my mind would rocket a thousand thoughts a minute, including backing out, my feelings took over.

I begin to pivot back and forth from nerves, an explosion of adrenaline littering my insides. All I have to do is say one word to stop this, but it also only takes one word to ensure it happens.

That’s what has me concerned, perhaps. It’s the latter that is screaming inside of me of what I should do.

Oliver has offered me the key to a dream, but it’s my dream. I’m not sure why he is insistent if he gets nothing out of this except an escapade and a wife that he can add to his health insurance policy if he wanted. He has hammered me to a wall with no way to run… and I wouldn’t want to anyhow.

Fanning my face, I remind myself that we are just two people who enjoy one another, and we’re still going at our own pace. Marriage is just on paper. We can even ignore that little detail, right?

My eyes zip toward the sound of fast steps to find Oliver with a swaggering grin highlighted from the sun, and his appearance sweeps away any concerns that I have. He’s wearing dark jeans and light blue button-up with his sleeves rolled. It’s an image, that’s for sure.

“Sorry I’m late. There was a family of ducks stuck on the road halfway between Everhope and my office in Lake Spark. The police officer didn’t seem so concerned that people had places to be.”

“Not everyone is Sheriff Carter,” I wisecrack.

Oliver is a man who is so calm that it spreads straight to me. “True. I would say that I miss his presence right now, but that’s not what this is.” Right, it’s not the real deal, just a logistical marriage. “Ready?” he asks.

“Sure.”

His eyes narrow to observe me as his fingertips cup my elbows. “Everything okay? We don’t have to do this.”

One beat. Two. Three is only for him.

My smile grows. “I’m fine. A secret marriage is something that I always wanted to cross off my bucket list,” I joke and nudge his arm.

“Funny. Shall we head in?” He offers me his arm like the gentleman he is, and I hook my own into his. “Just maybe, you know, don’t mention the fake-marriage part, just to cover our bases,” he mutters.

I shake my head because he doesn’t need to highlight that.

We walk together into the room to find an older judge behind a desk wearing a saccharine smile. In Illinois, witnesses are not required, which means one less thing to worry about.

“Hi, Oliver, seems you are already walking her down the aisle,” he jokes. It doesn’t faze me that Oliver works in law and his brother is police royalty. But I guess a judge can’t say what happens inside this room… right?

“Now, Judge Daniels, I know better than to let go of the one for me, no matter what.” I notice in my peripheral view that Oliver winked at him.

I laugh inside because Oliver is so over-the-top ridiculous, except he just glanced sidelong at me with his eyes anything but. It strikes behind my heart.

“We’ll do the quick version,” the judge informs us.

“Kind of like the engagement,” I mutter to myself, and Oliver throws me a smirk.

“Wait.” Oliver holds a finger up and his other hand probes into his pocket. I’m confused about what he’s doing until he pulls out two rings.

My eyes bug out as this didn’t cross my mind, or rather I forgot about this detail. In my dream book, a man would have a ring when he actually asks, preferably on his knee in a field with wildflowers.

But then I smile to myself because that would all be predictable. Oliver is anything but lately, especially as I have no idea what he picked out. I tip my nose up and transfer my weight to one foot to evaluate.

Ah, damn it, they’re silver, and one has a little sparkle embedded in the band, and by sparkle, I mean a little stone of the diamond variety.

“Those are a little obvious, and we are supposed to be sec—” My voice goes uneven as my word trail off, and I was just about to admit in front a government official the tiny detail of my marriage. I throw on a smile. “I mean, we’re just not a ring couple. It’s all the new rage not to wear one.”

“That’s not us,” Oliver chides as he holds up my ring. “You can wear it on a necklace underneath your clothes, and I’ll keep mine in my pocket.” His smile is contrite because he only wants to win.

I smile tightly. “Clever.” And that’s kind of a hopelessly romantic idea, which isn’t safe for us right now. He slides the ring on my finger, and we both get a look at my finger no longer bare. That will have to go around my neck later for sure. I’ll also have to question more why he is so adamant that I have a ring, but perhaps he is right, and we have to keep up the pretenses with the owner of the building.

The judge seems unfazed by our unusual behavior. “Let’s get you two married then.”

There is a problem when I stand face to face with Oliver and his eyes are glazed with a fondness that feels is only for me. I know my face must be a wistful display of how much I’ve thought of this.

Even if my brother or our families aren’t here, or I’m lacking a dress or a delicious tower of cookies as a cake for the reception. All of that is a speck in this moment because happiness swirls inside of me, even if this type of marriage is not what I intended when I always thought of Oliver.

Being lost in his eyes while he holds my hands is just as good, or it’s at least something that isn’t bad. Except for the fact that being lost in this moment means that I haven’t heard a word of what the judge just said. I think it was something to do with not entering marriage lightly.

Doesn’t matter, as we’re already at the part where we say I do.

“Vows?” the judge asks.

Oliver and I look at one another awkwardly.

“Legal version will work. We’re not a bells-and-whistles kind of couple, unless there is a wind chime around,” Oliver responds.

I beam a smile at his reference because it’s sweet. It’s a little detail that shows that I’m not a stranger from the street.

“So be it.” The judge continues.

My head tilts slightly as I lock my eyes with Oliver and feel content. He makes me feel content.

This is going to be one wild story someday.

“Oliver Oaks, do you take Hailey O’Shae to be your wife? To have and to hold in sickness and health. For richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Oliver is quick to answer, our eyes not breaking our line.

“And do you, Hailey O’Shae, take Oliver Oaks to be your husband? To have and to hold in sickness and health. For richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?”

For a millisecond the magnitude of what I’m doing hits. It shouldn’t be taken lightly, yet I seem to do just that. I attempt to hide my smirk. “Of course, he saves me from bagels. Yes, I do.” Now he is the one with a grin.

“Then I pronounce you husband and wife.”

There are no claps or bubbles being blown, only an earie silence. That is until Oliver kisses me, when a symphony plays in my mind.

I deepen our kiss, my tongue delving into his mouth, and our kiss isn’t the same as a day ago. It scares the hell out of me because it’s strong and keeps me rooted to the ground. His lips engulf mine, and it isn’t until we hear the clearing of a throat that we slowly pull away, remembering where we are.

“I wish you both the best,” the judge says.

“Thank you.” I smile.

“Thanks. Also appreciate that we keep this between us.”

The judge waves Oliver off. “You know I can’t say anything. Besides, I’ll be too busy focusing on my golf game next time I hit the green with your father.”

Inside I curse to myself from how silly that sentence was. Everhope elite at their finest.

“Come on, we need to celebrate.” Oliver wraps his arm around my shoulders to guide me away.

When we are outside on the sidewalk, we look at one another, our faces light and nearly blushing.

“That’s us married.” He clucks his tongue.

“It is.” We each appraise the other, trying to figure out what the other is thinking, but it’s a fail. “ So … there is a no-return policy on this, right? No 24-hour window, in case I wake up deciding that you might be a horrible husband,” I say in jest, but no line on his face flinches. Not even a smidgen.

“Probably should have asked that before saying ‘I do.’” Then the corner of his mouth tilts up, and I know that he’s teasing me. “I’ll see you at my place since we came in separate cars?” he adds as if it’s a normal day.

Still, I nod once in answer. “I’ll leave my car at my place then walk over. Pretend to be power walking for a new form of exercise.”

Something gnaws inside of me, grinding down a curiosity of what comes next. Order in food? Watch a movie? Take photos of this blessed union? How funny this day is. There are no rules or guidelines for this.

But I like the new tradition of Oliver kissing my forehead with a chaste kiss but his hands on my arms firm with a warning.

Except we probably shouldn’t mix getting physical with a marriage entered into for practicality. In fact, we should keep intimacy out of the equation. It’s safer that way, right?

“I’m here,” I call out as I walk into Oliver’s house. I breathe to myself because everything does feel different, that’s already obvious.

It’s quiet, and I lift a shoulder. “Hmm, must have already run away from his wife.”

But I hear shuffling upstairs, and Oliver must be changing in his room. I guess we can have a normal night just like a few days ago.

I go find him, with nerves swimming in my stomach. When I find him, he’s by his dresser unbuttoning her shirt. “Oh good, you figured the front door was unlocked, I forgot to mention.” He glances up with a smoldering look, his eyes hypnotizing. “You should have waited outside so I could carry you over the threshold, Mrs. Oliver Oaks.”

I crack a small smile. “I’m not even living with you, so I’m not sure it would be traditional.”

He throws his shirt to the chair in the corner and now he is shirtless. I tear my eyes away because him being half naked won’t help this situation. It only takes a quick glance back to see that he looks curious.

“Everything okay?”

“I think we need to talk about something.” Phew, I’ve started the entry point.

“What might that be?”

My head tilts to the side as I draw my line of sight back to him. “It would be better if we’re not physical while we are married.” It spews out of my mouth.

His eyes nearly pop out before amusement floods his face. “Funny. Now we’re supposed to consummate the marriage, otherwise this isn’t real.”

“It’s not supposed to be a real marriage,” I say, flippant.

He studies me, and he seems to be grasping my request as I cross my arms. “Is it really what you want?” His voice thins.

“It’s… no… yes. I mean, it’s safer. We can’t confuse where we drew the lines.”

Oliver rolls his lips in and tries to steady his neutral look, but his effort fails. “Hailey, your idea is as horrible as me suggesting we get married, but we’re running with it. I’ll follow your lead on this one, but I’d be lying if I said you’re right. It’s not in us anymore to restrain ourselves.” He’s now sincere.

Oh, fuck it. He’s right.

“I’m just scared of what we’re doing.” My eyes bow down. “This can really mess with us.”

“Perhaps, but we were already in that territory when we decided to sleep with each other on our road trip. I’m helping you because I care, and that’s where we are right now.”

I sigh, and my energy to debate it is gone. “Okay. You make a point. This is just me throwing caution to us, you know?”

“I know.”

Our eyes lock in mutual understanding, and then in a split moment, we return to where we were when I entered the room.

Oliver begins to work his belt. If he’s going to get comfortable then so can I; I’ll just grab one of his shirts. I throw my jean jacket to the side and begin to take off my earrings and proceed with my ring.

“Don’t.” His tone is sharp.

I glance down then draw my sight back up to him. “I can’t let the world see this.”

He approaches me with his fierce determination impaling me, and a shiver hits me instantly. “But not right now. I believe it’s our wedding night? And I plan on fucking my wife .”