Chapter Fifteen
Eve stared at the marriage license where it sat on the dashboard of her car, reflecting up into the windshield. She was getting
married today and it didn’t feel real. For one, the courthouse was walking distance from a Krispy Kreme and that didn’t feel
very wedding-like at all. Although maybe it made total sense to get married beside the donut joint, since this union would
be the fast food of marriages. Quick and functional.
A practical option.
Why were her palms sweating, then?
She cranked the air-conditioning, pinching the loose neckline of her white jumpsuit and flapped the material to create a breeze.
So many things about this wedding didn’t feel right. Skylar should be there, but Eve couldn’t bring herself to come clean
to her best friend just yet. How would that conversation play out?
I’m marrying Madden for the kids. For the insurance.
Skylar was a borderline genius. She’d see right through Eve.
Old habits die hard and Eve had been pretending not to be infatuated with Madden for so long, the truth was buried deep in
her belly beneath a ten-ton boulder. Either Skylar would pick up on the undercurrent of Eve’s feelings for Madden and look
back at the last eight years through a lens of dishonesty.
Or, worse, Skylar might feel guilty for standing in the way.
Eve didn’t like those options.
I’ll tell her. Soon.
She pulled down the overhead mirror and checked her lipstick. She’d gone with vivid plum for the occasion, her hair in a loose
braid. God bless Veda for showing up at the apartment this morning and doing a cartoonish double take, because it gave Eve
some extra confidence. They’d left the apartment together with the kids and dropped them off at school, before driving fifteen
miles to a courthouse with enough distance from Cumberland to keep tongues from wagging.
As of now, Veda was inside the Krispy Kreme “getting dinner,” because once again, the erstwhile musician had pulled an all-nighter.
Judging she had approximately three minutes until Veda returned to the car, Eve plucked her phone out of the cupholder, fully
intending to google a place to have lunch after the wedding, but she found herself dialing her sister instead. Ruth wouldn’t
pick up. Eve didn’t expect her to, because they didn’t allow unlimited phone calls in the rehab facility, and anyway, Ruth
needed this time to focus on herself.
Still, there was something about her imminent nuptials that inspired a need to reach for family. She and Ruth had never been
confidantes. Never shared giggling secrets past their bedtime or bonded over the boredom of too-long family road trips. They’d
more or less kept to their own devices growing up, communicating wordlessly when necessary if their father was having a bad
day, after their mom had finally left after years of threatening to go, and he needed space. Or if one of them was getting
the cold shoulder in town, they might share a knowing eye roll. They were simply different people with opposite ways of channeling
sadness, frustration.
But apparently a shared past—and now the twins—had bonded them enough to make Eve want to hear Ruth’s voice right about now.
Three rings. Four.
A generic manufacturer greeting, followed by a beep sounding in her ear, prompting her to leave a message.
“Hey.” Eve stopped to smooth the bumps out of her tone.
“Hey, it’s me. I just thought I’d call and tell you .
. . I’m getting married. I’m not supposed to tell you that.
I’m only supposed to tell two people, and you’re not one of them.
But yeah. Married. Me. And, um . . .” An unexpected gust of pressure blew the words out of her.
Why? Because she was about to embark on something scary and felt the need to confess and enter the union with a clear conscience?
“It’s Madden Donahue that I’m marrying. I’m sure you remember him.
I fought with Dad for three days straight until he signed the consent form to determine if I was a match when Madden was diagnosed with kidney disease.
Remember?” she said, semi-jokingly. Finding out she was a match was the foremost memorable moment of her young life.
“Hard to forget all that paperwork, followed by a week in the hospital. Although you didn’t mind it so much because you got custody of all my low-rise pants afterward.
” The backs of Eve’s eyes prickled and stung just saying those words out loud.
Even if no one was listening. This message would probably get ignored.
But the admission lifted a grand piano off her chest. “I’ve loved him for a long time, which is why I can’t .
. . like, I can’t keep him. Or love him publicly.
If anyone understands, it’s you. We both grew up in this town.
And the world is just a bigger version of Cumberland, isn’t it?
Can’t escape who we are. I don’t want to.
But I won’t make him defend me all the time.
Or, god, what if he started to regret me—” Eve stopped and cleared her throat.
“Anyway, the marriage is temporary, but six months with him is better than nothing, you know? I can live on memories. I can do hard things.”
Eve hung up, right as Veda exited the Krispy Kreme in a red polka-dot dress, off the shoulder—last night’s clothes, apparently—double-fisting
glazed donuts. The musician circled around the back of Eve’s car to stand outside the driver’s-side window.
“You sure you don’t want one?” Veda called through the glass. “They’re fresh.”
“I’m good,” Eve responded, giving her a thumbs-up.
That thumbs-up remained suspended in the air when Madden’s truck pulled into the parking lot, two spots away from them. The
ignition cut out, but he made no move to exit the vehicle, he and Eve staring at each other through their respective windows,
her stomach flipping like an Olympic gymnast doing a floor exercise.
Finally, he got out of the truck and Eve couldn’t help it. She sighed out loud. Thank god she was alone inside the car, because
multiple cool points would have been deducted for the wistful whoosh of appreciation over Madden in a suit. Black, of course.
Crisp white shirt underneath. A navy-blue tie to match his eyes. Some extra care had been taken with his hair, too, the lot
of it tousled back into a windswept look.
Somehow, the black eye only heightened the potency of the man.
“That’s the guy?” Veda shouted through the window. “Are you kidding me?”
Eve smacked the glass. “Indoor voice, babe.”
“Sorry,” Veda replied, taking a bite of one of her donuts. “But like . . . yeesh.”
Get out of the car. Eve’s legs were slow to cooperate, but she finally got out, brushing the wrinkles out of her jumpsuit, just in time for Madden to reach them. And he wasn’t alone. Elton had also arrived and swaggered behind Madden in a pin-striped suit and a derby cap.
“Oh good, the Peaky Blinders are here,” Veda drawled, observing Elton’s approach.
Skylar’s brother drew up short. “Wow. This must be Veda.” He doffed the cap and bowed with a smirk. “This acquaintance is
off to a fine start.”
“Sorry, that just popped right out of my mouth.” She held up the shiny confections. “I blame the donuts.”
Elton raised an eyebrow at the pastry in her hand. “Are you going to finish that?”
“Yes.” Veda laughed, as if the question were ridiculous. “Get your own.”
“Where did you find this girl?” Elton asked Eve, while pointing his hat at Veda. “A 1940s pinup girl convention?”
“Fifties.” Veda sucked the glaze off one of her fingers. “Nineteen fifties.”
“Oh, okay. Let me file that under information I don’t need.” Elton shook his head at the younger woman, a deep groove between
his brows, before visibly wrestling his attention away. “Hey, Eve,” he said warmly, coming forward to kiss her on the cheek.
“I just want to say that I called this pairing. You and Madden might have had everyone else fooled, but not me.”
“Okay, Elt,” Eve said dryly, no longer able to ignore the burn of Madden’s gaze on the side of her face, the slope of her
neck. Everywhere. She took a deep breath and looked up into the most dramatic pair of eyes on the planet. “Hello, future husband.”
A corner of his mouth jumped, but when he spoke, his expression was sober. Serious. “Hello, future wife.”
One minute in his presence and Eve’s stomach muscles were already tighter than a drum. “You look—”
“You look—” he said at the same time.
Eve laughed quietly, watching the tips of his ears turn red.
“Dare I ask how you came by that black eye?”
“I told you waiting three days to marry you wasn’t going to be easy on me, love.”
While Eve did everything in her power to recover from that statement, Madden ticked his gaze between Elton and Veda. “Would
you please give us a moment alone before we go in?”
“I don’t know,” Elton hedged. “What if she drags me back to her time machine?”
“Me?” Veda replied. “You look like you just got back from defending your turf in Birmingham.”
Elton laughed. “Fine. That was pretty funny.”
If Eve had blinked, she would have missed the pleasure that crossed Veda’s face. Pleasure she quickly hid under casual boredom
as she extended a half-eaten donut. “You want the rest?”
“Do I?” Elton said, in a flawless Cockney accent, rubbing his hands together.
Veda snort-laughed, handing over the donut, and off they went, side by side into the courthouse, trading names of their favorite
bakeries in and around Cumberland.
“I can’t tell if they’re going to be enemies or friends,” Eve mused out loud.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
I can’t believe I’m about to marry this woman.
Words wouldn’t do Eve justice. She looked beautiful in the white jumpsuit, the neckline low and dipping between her breasts, her hair soft and wavy, pulled back from her face. Resplendent. That’s the only description Madden’s brain supplied.
Goddamn, what he wouldn’t give for a wedding night.
He’d have that lipstick smeared all over her chin and cheeks before the door closed behind them. “I have to be back in New
York by tonight,” Madden said, not bothering to hide the regret in his tone. “I wish I didn’t, but I need to be on a flight
to Milwaukee in the morning.”
“That’s okay. Really.”
“Is that the marriage license?” he asked, nodding at the paper in her hands.
“Oh.” She seemed to have forgotten she was holding it. “Yes.”
“Can I see it?”
Eve pressed her lips together and handed it to him, both of them standing in the midmorning hum of traffic as he read their
names on the page together. The document giving him permission to become Eve’s husband. She couldn’t know the impact it was
having on him, the knowledge that she’d taken the time to apply for the document, carried it with her. All to marry him. Could
he tell her without sounding ridiculous?
“Thank you,” he said, finally. “For . . . taking care of that.”
“You’re the one doing me a favor, Mad. You realize that, right?”
She didn’t get it. He’d make sure she did. In time.
“I brought you something,” he said.
A long pause ensued. “You did? Like, a gift?”
“Yes.”
Her chest dipped. “But I didn’t get you anything. I didn’t know we were doing that.”
“Stop. I don’t need a thing.” He folded the marriage license carefully, tucking it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. Then he reached down and took her by the wrist. “Come on. It’s in my truck.”
Eve allowed him to pull her along, the little wisps of hair around her face fluttering in the spring breeze. “Can’t you wait
until I have something to give you too?”
“No.”
She gaped. “Why not?”
Madden didn’t know how to explain, so he didn’t. Instead, he opened the second cab of his truck and took out the gold eight-by-ten
frame he’d propped up in the footwell. He started to explain, but he didn’t have the words untangled yet, so he simply handed
her the framed sketch and watched.
Watching Eve. His favorite pastime.
“It’s me.”
He nodded.
“I’ve seen this before . . .” She traced a fingertip over the image, which depicted Eve sitting on a tree swing in a party
dress, smiling. Not just any smile, though; it was somehow mischievous and loving, all at once. It was, in his opinion, the
perfect smile. “I’ve seen this picture in one of Skylar’s photo albums before, but I never knew where it came from.” She looked
up at Madden. “You took this picture?”
“Aye.” The back of his neck felt warmer than usual.
“I found someone online who takes a photograph and turns it into a sketch. It was going to be a Christmas gift last year, but ah . . . I don’t know, the timing didn’t work out.
” She’d been avoiding him, as usual, but he wasn’t unwise enough to point that out on their wedding day.
“But after what you said about people and their preconceived notions about you, I got to thinking maybe I’d give it to you now.
That’s how I see you. A little guarded, a lot full of life.
Protective of the people you’re looking at, but not willing to let them know too often, because the secret would get out, wouldn’t it?
That you’re tough as fuck, but you’re sweet and soft too.
That’s how they would see you if they were smart enough to look. That’s all.”
“That’s all,” she echoed, dully, blinking up at him with an emotion he couldn’t name. Or maybe couldn’t let himself hope for.
“Madden, I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, love.” He huffed a low laugh. “I take that back. You could tell me you like it.”
Eve looked up at him for so long, he started to wonder if he’d asked for too much. “If my apartment was on fire, it’s the
first thing I would grab on the way out.” She swallowed twice, a light sheen in her eyes. “Besides the kids. I guess,” she
said on a wobbly laugh.
Pride and relief rocked Madden back on his heels. “Right, then.” On second thought, “If we could avoid any mention of your
apartment catching fire from now on, I would appreciate it, Eve.”
More blinking. “I’ll just go put this in my car.”
“Grand.”
A moment later, Madden watched Eve place the framed sketch in her trunk and when she straightened again, he was standing in
such a position that her back met his chest and she gasped, the sound scraping right down his belly. The braid that ran all
the way to the small of her back was too much of a temptation not to wrap it around his fist and tug until her face was tilted
toward the sky. “It might not be tonight, Eve,” he said, biting her neck, firm but gentle. “But there will be a proper wedding
night.”
She hummed, gave a jerky nod. “Yup. This is messy, all right.”
Madden pressed a smile into her temple, slowly releasing her braid and taking her hand, twining their fingers together. “Shall we go make it worse?”
Or better, depending on who you asked.
“After you,” Eve breathed, accepting his hand and letting him walk her toward the courthouse.