Chapter 18
WINNIE
Candice, Nathan, and I are waiting for Jonah at the courthouse.
It’s a beautiful old building, with great pillars outside and a parquet floor inside.
I fiddle with my sleeves and briefly wonder if Jonah will bother to show up.
Maybe he’s having second thoughts. Maybe I should have worn jeans and a t-shirt after all, instead of this white dress.
If Jonah doesn’t come, everyone will know that I’ve been jilted.
It’s a simple sheath dress, with three quarter length sleeves, in heavy white silk. I think it’s vintage, but I honestly can’t remember how I even got it. It was probably one of the many late night online purchases I made while living with my parents.
“He’ll be here, sweetie,” Candice says. “Don’t worry.”
“And if not, I’ve got two brothers who would be more than happy to marry you,” Nathan says with a wink. “Neither of them are upstanding, and they’re both annoying as hell, but they are alive and breathing.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Jonah’s voice says from behind us. I turn and find him standing there in a deep blue suit, his hands in his pockets, and a frown across his face.
“Um, great,” I say. “Should we go in? I have the license for us to fill out and sign and there are a few couples getting married before us.”
Jonah simply nods, and then holds his hand out to me. In it is a wooden rose, its petals and thorns carved in intricate detail. “Here,” he says gruffly. “You should probably have a bouquet on your wedding day.”
I take the flower from him with shaking hands. “Thank you.” I glance at Candice and she’s trying to hide a smile.
“You probably need rings as well,” Nathan pipes up.
Candice elbows him in the side, but Jonah just says, “Don’t worry about that. I have it covered.”
For someone who found out he was getting married a few days ago, Jonah is very well prepared. He’s dependable. Solid. You could cling to him in a storm and know he wouldn’t let go.
We all head into the courtroom, and watch as two other couples get married before us.
When it’s our turn, I take a deep breath, and link arms with Jonah as we walk towards the judge.
The ceremony is short, and follows a standard script.
It’s the polar opposite of how I imagined my wedding going when I was a little girl.
I thought my future husband and I would write our own vows.
I was planning to sing mine, for Christ’s sake.
After we exchanged them, we’d be so wrapped up in kissing one another that it would just keep going and going and going.
Once the judge finishes, we sign the license.
“I didn’t realize your name was Winsome,” Jonah murmurs beside me. “I figured you were a Winifred.”
“Nope,” I say, signing my name with a flourish. “Winsome Grant. I still can’t believe my parents really thought that was a good name for a baby.”
“Doesn’t it mean charming or innocent or something like that?”
“Yep. Talk about expectations.”
Jonah shakes his head and it sounds like he curses under his breath. Then, he takes my hand in his and quickly slips a silver ring onto my ring finger.
“You made this?” I ask, examining it. The craftsmanship is impeccable and it shines in the light.
“It was easy,” he says, shrugging. “I had everything I needed at home already, and I’m used to working with steel. If it needs to be resized, just let me know. Here.”
He hands me a second ring, and I put it on his ring finger, almost as if this is a real marriage, with real feelings and until death do us part and all that.
“We didn’t do all that practice for nothing,” he murmurs.
And then my husband is kissing me, his lips gently feathering over mine, teasing me with soft touches and the whisper of what we shared last night.
I reach out and cup the back of his head, pulling him closer, and then deepening the kiss.
I’ve posed for enough photos to know that we’re making it look good—look real.
I asked Candice to take photos of us just in case the validity of our marriage came into question.
But honestly, I’m not having to fake much. Just like last night, the taste and feel of Jonah makes me think only one thing: more.
I want more.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I chant.
I’ve already tried to call my cousin’s personal office line twice, and I’m hoping the third time’s the charm. After the wedding, Jonah and I drove to his house, and we’re currently sitting in the kitchen trying to get everything sorted out with my trust fund.
“Adam Stanton, how can I help?”
“Adam, it’s Winnie. I’ve got news for you.” I feel a bit breathless all of a sudden, and place a hand on my chest. “I got married.”
“Congratulations, Win! Who’s the lucky guy? And why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?” he jokes.
“It happened sort of fast. I’ve been spending some time in Montana, and we met and hit it off right away,” I say.
“I wondered where you were. I figured Richard and Melissa were blowing things out of proportion with their posts online. Glad to hear you’re safe. But the guy? He’s good?”
I glance at Jonah to see his reaction, as my cousin is on speakerphone. Jonah just raises a brow at me.
“Yeah. He’s good,” I say honestly. “Great actually.”
“Good, good,” Adam says. “If you send over proof of marriage, I’ll get you access to the trust ASAP.”
“Perfect.” The knot of anxiety that’s been in my stomach since I left Alabama starts to ease, just a bit. This might actually work out.
“I have to ask, though, Winnie,” Adam says, his voice concerned. “Why now? Are you in trouble?”
“You know my parents.”
“That’s why I worry. This marriage is real?” my cousin asks.
“As real as it gets,” I say after a beat.
Adam assures me that I can call him for help whenever I need, and then we hang up. For a moment I just sit there, feeling both happy to nearly have access to the money that is mine, and scared of what my parents might do to punish me for it.
I look past Jonah’s face, eyes unfocused, my mind whirring with anxiety.
“What is it?” Jonah asks.
“I’m scared,” I admit.
“What’s the worst thing that could happen? Aside from the lawsuit.”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Because sometimes acknowledging our fears out loud helps us confront them.”
I take a deep breath and then release it slowly.
“Here are the things I’m most afraid of.
They’ll try to argue that I wasn’t mentally competent enough to consent to marriage.
They’ll attempt to get conservatorship over me.
They’ll come here themselves and try to drag me back.
That’s what I’m worried about the most.”
“Over my dead body,” Jonah growls, eyes darkening, a tick forming in his jaw. “You’re moving in with me. You’ll be safer there.”
“No. Absolutely not, Jonah,” I hiss. “I’m perfectly safe at the rescue.”
“Stay there and you’re a woman who got married on a whim, and I’m a man who was happy to take advantage of a vulnerable woman for money. Move in with me and we’re a young couple in love,” Jonah says, leveling me with an arrogant look, like he knows best.
“Fine. Maybe that’s true. But I don’t take kindly to being ordered around, Jonah. I’ve had enough of that.”
“Fair enough,” he says, though he still looks like a know-it-all ass. “But I’m trying to protect myself here. I don’t want to be a target in any of this legal shit with your parents, and I don’t want it to look like I took advantage of you or something. It’s better if it looks real.”
I rub my temples, and consider my options for a moment.
I didn’t think about moving in with Jonah but I probably should have.
What newly married couple chooses to live apart?
Especially when one of them already has a perfectly good home?
I owe it to Jonah to make this as easy as possible for him, and to protect him.
At the same time, though, I left Alabama and my parents to finally, finally be independent. Is that going to be possible if we’re living as a married couple?
“Alright,” I say warily. “But we need some ground rules. I’m not going to inform you of my comings and goings and you’re not going to try and tell me what to do. No more ordering me around.” I tip my chin up and try to match his arrogant gaze.
“Easy enough,” Jonah says, shrugging. “I’m not going to try and control you.”
I just nod, but I’m not sure I trust him yet completely. My parents have always been controlling, and my experience with men tells me that many of them are similar.
“Although,” Jonah adds, “we probably shouldn’t sleep with anyone else while we’re together. Since we’re invested in making this thing look real now.”
“That won’t be a problem. None of the men in Star Mountain interest me.”
Jonah just nods, but he has a satisfied smirk on his face.
I flutter my lashes at him and say, “So, how much closet space does your house have?”