Chapter 17 Nancy
SEVENTEEN
NANCY
I make Karl wait in the seating area while I change into the dress I bought. It’s dark blue with white polka dots and falls just above my knees. It absolutely screams snowy November wedding in Niagara Falls. I laugh when I think about how cold I’m about to be, but I don’t care. I love it.
I slip on the white Converse shoes Karl cleaned off that first day and that I had laundered at the hotel and stand back to admire the look.
It’s a mishmash of fifties housewife, nineties hair, and grunge.
I’m not sure I can pull any of it off, but what I do know is that when I walk out, Karl is going to look at me, and I’ll feel like the most beautiful bride that ever existed.
“Are you ready?”
“I’ve been ready for this my whole life,” he hollers back.
He’s sitting on the couch but jumps to his feet when he sees me, looking at me like he can’t see all of me fast enough.
“Well?” I do a single spin, and when I face him again, I know it’s the right dress. His lips part as his eyes drink me in. He hasn’t moved, so I take a step. “The shoes aren’t really ideal, but I figured they deserve to be here.” I shrug.
“You’re perfect,” he declares, finally taking a step toward me.
He reaches out like he’s going to touch me and then stops himself.
His hands fidget like he’s holding himself back from doing what he wants to do.
What I want him to do, quite frankly, so I take another step, closing the distance until I’m right against him.
“Karl?”
“Yeah?”
“Touch me.”
He shakes his head, and I have the sudden fear that he’s about to say he can’t do this. When the words “I can’t” slip out, my heart stops.
“What?” I blink up at him.
“I don’t want to mess you up.”
I reach for his hands and guide them to my waist. “The only way you could mess me up”—I take his face in my hands—“is if you don’t touch me when I ask you to.”
His face relaxes, and he finally smiles the smile I saw that first day in the barn.
“Are you ready to be a Hore?” he asks, a knowing grin spreading on his handsome face as his hands glide along my sides, as if he’s afraid to stop touching me now.
I try and fail to stifle a giggle. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to my soon-to-be last name. “You have quite a way with words,” I purr, peering up at him through my lashes.
“Do you think they can come here and do it?” Karl says, looking longingly at the bed. “Less travel time.”
I take his hand and pull him toward the door, grabbing my purse that has our IDs and cash inside. “Let’s go, Mr. Hore. We’re wasting daylight.”
“Wait,” he stops abruptly before we reach the door. He drops my hand and hurries back to the bed.
I’m about to ask what he’s doing when he picks up the phone and dials, eyes on me the entire time. The smile he’s sending my way is as sexy as it is mischievous.
“Hey, what’s your middle name?” he asks. “And Dad’s?” I watch him nod, say thank you, and then hang up without a lick of context given to anyone involved.
“What was that about?”
He takes my hand again and opens the door, leading me into the hall.
“My mom’s middle name is Ann, and my dad’s is Edward,” he informs me. “I told you I’d let you know before we walked down the aisle,” he says when he sees my confused expression. “I promised.”
We luck out at city hall and get a license faster than I ever imagined.
The next stop we make is one of the chapels off the main strip.
It’s beyond cheesy, and it’s the only time I have a shred of doubt.
Not the marrying Karl part. That part I’m full steam ahead on.
No, it’s the space itself, but one look at the excitement on Karl’s face, and all my worries float away with the mist from the falls.
Giddy. That’s how I feel as Karl slowly slides the gold band onto my finger.
This is probably the slowest he’s ever done something, I think, as he completes the task, keeping my hand in his as his thumb brushes over the gold.
There’s a new weight to the ring that hadn’t been there last night, the weight of what we’re doing, perhaps.
It’s a physical feeling that quickly spreads a pleasant warmth through my body, filling all the nooks and crannies I never knew existed.
I’ve never been someone who imagined my wedding, so when the officiant declares us husband and wife and instructs Karl to kiss me, I don’t for one second care that we recited canned vows and in roughly five minutes are legally bound together.
The world evaporates as Karl’s lips meet mine.
This is what it’s like to kiss your partner, the person you’ve agreed to spend your whole life with.
I can feel him holding back. Maybe because we aren’t somewhere familiar and we aren’t surrounded by friends and family.
This thing between us feels real, but this place doesn’t feel right.
When he straightens and breaks the kiss, he keeps my face gently cradled in his hands as if he can’t bear to let me go yet.
A throat clears, reminding us that we’re not alone, and Karl’s hands fall from my face.
His left immediately threads with my right, the new metal I placed on him pressing against my skin.
We take the license now in a manila envelope, signed by two witnesses, the bride and groom, who were next in line, and then we walk through the door to the busy street.
There’s no fanfare, no rice, or shouts of congratulations.
There’s a car horn, the sound of carnival music in the distance, and the smell of funnel cake perfuming the air.
“Now”—Karl looks down at me—“I have a little surprise for you.” He grins that grin that makes me want to say yes to whatever it is he’s proposing. The exact same one that I actually said yes to when he proposed.
“Oh? It’s not our parents, is it? Because I’m not sure I’m ready for that reality yet.”
“No, dearest, I’d never do that to you, or to me for that matter.
Come on.” He takes my hand and starts walking down the hill toward the falls, then veers left onto a path to a garden with stone arches and columns.
There’s a woman standing there with a large camera around her neck, waving enthusiastically.
“Who’s that?” I ask, quickening my pace to match his.
“Tiffany Strauss. She’s a local photographer who specializes in last-minute elopements. The concierge gave me her information.”
“When did you arrange this?” I ask, impressed at how sneaky and yet amazing it is.
“I called down to the concierge. It turns out he’s good at more than giving restaurant recommendations.”
“You don’t say.”
“Hi, I’m Karl, and this is Nancy.” Tiffany shakes our hands.
“It’s great to meet you, and congratulations. You must be so excited.”
“You have no idea.” I giggle. I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin, but in the best way.
“Well, shall we get to it?”
“Please,” Karl says, squeezing my hand as we follow Tiffany around.
“Whisper something to her,” Tiffany calls from a few feet away. “Something you wouldn’t want her parents to hear.” She winks and raises the camera to her eye.
Karl pulls me against his body, and his lips tickle my ear as he begins to speak.
“I cannot wait to take this dress off you later.” His voice is silky like the caramel drizzled over a hot apple dumpling.
I can feel myself blush as I lean into him even more.
“You’re an all-you-can-eat buffet, and I’m the only patron for the rest of time.
” I burst out laughing at this one, his deep laugh harmonizing with mine.
“What happens if you get full?” I tease.
He looks down at me like I’ve lost my mind. “I won’t,” he says seriously. “Ever.”
“But,” I start to say, but he shuts me up with a kiss. A kiss that starts as a way to quiet me but quickly morphs into foreplay. When we break apart, we’re both panting, lips parted, eyes glued on one another.
A loud whistle comes from ten feet away, and I look over to see Tiffany fanning herself dramatically. “If I ever need to add steamy pictures to my portfolio, I may need to give you two a call.”
We wander around with Tiffany for twenty more minutes.
Whispering to one another various things that either start to turn us on or have us laughing so hard it hurts.
The fact both things are possible amazes me a little bit.
The ease with which we exist in this new space together would be unnerving if it didn’t feel so good.
“So, were you two high school sweethearts or something?” Tiffany asks as we walk alongside her on the way to her car.
I smile shyly up at Karl. “We didn’t know each other in high school, or I bet we would have been,” he says, melting me a little bit even as I try not to shiver in the cold.
“Awe, uni love.” She sighs wistfully.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I never went to university.”
“So, how long then?”
“Three days,” Karl informs her matter-of-factly.
“Three… days?” She stops in the middle of the crosswalk. “No way.”
“Yeah,” I confirm. “We met Tuesday.”
“No, but”—she continues crossing—“I’ve shot so many of these, and I’m usually pretty good at guessing how long a couple has been together. And believe me, I’ve shot many drunken one-night stand elopements.”
“Well,” Karl says seriously, turning his focus to me as we continue walking. “This isn’t a drunken one-night stand. It’s fast, but it’s right. We’re right. She’s right.” He squeezes my hand, smiling down at me, and I have the urge to ask him to marry me all over again.