Chapter 1 #3
“Do you, Camila Jiménez, take Harrison Taylor to be your wedded husband, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him for as long as you both shall live?”
“Uh, yes.” I pull my shoulders back and lift my chin. “I do.”
The pastor looks at Harrison. “Repeat after me for the exchanging of vows.”
My mind wanders as my eyes drift around the chapel—the beautiful woodwork, stained-glass windows, and cascading afternoon light.
Maybe if things had been different, I wouldn’t have this mindset.
I watched my mom. She hoped for the fairy tale of marrying a good man and happily riding off into the sunset.
But instead, she made one bad decision after another, settling on a string of less-than-mediocre men who never wanted to build a life with her.
To this day, she’s still trying to find a decent guy who’ll stick around.
There’s no coming back from what I saw growing up. My views on happy, lasting marriages are tainted and skewed. Forever.
“Camila?” The pastor looks at me expectantly.
Right. It’s my turn.
I shut off my daydreaming and recall the vows I’m supposed to repeat. “I promise to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part.”
“Do we have the rings?” The pastor looks at his wife, who immediately jumps forward with a box. He waits for us to retrieve the simple gold bands before reciting what we’re supposed to say.
Harrison takes my hand. His fingers soft and warm as he slips the ring on. “With this ring, I pledge my love and faithfulness to you.”
How is he so calm? I feel like my heart is about to give out from overuse, causing a small puff of smoke to escape as a signal of malfunction.
My fingers shake as I take his hand in mine and give him the ring a lot less gracefully. “With this ring, I pledge my love and faithfulness to you.”
There. I step back from him. We’re done.
“You’ve promised your love and exchanged rings as a sign of your commitment. By the authority given to me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. It is my joy to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.”
Well, not technically. I’d never change my name to a man’s.
“You may kiss the bride.”
My eyes drift to Harrison, and I take a hesitant step forward. He matches my step with one of his own.
The corner of his mouth lifts as he whispers, “I’ve never sealed a business arrangement with a kiss.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” I mumble as his lips fall to mine.
Warmth is the first thing I feel, then his hand on my cheek, fingers splaying back into my dark curls. Then his arm wraps around my waist, holding me tight to him.
Every touch is surprising and confident.
The kiss is chaste but long enough to flicker a response inside.
It takes me a second to realize I need to kiss him back—or at least do something with my arms, but as I move to touch him, the moment is over, and he pulls apart.
Our two guests clap.
Harrison grabs my hand and holds it in the air between us.
We walk down the aisle, my arm looped through his, headed nowhere, really.
Once in the foyer, he turns to me with a silly grin. “Well, my beautiful bride, we’re in this together now. What’s next?”
I remove my hand from his arm. “Signing the marriage certificate and then never speaking to each other again.”
He frowns. “Sounds like a sad marriage.”
“No, it sounds like the majority of marriages out there.”
The pastor’s wife comes with the paperwork, and once everything is signed and pictures are taken for proof, she hands us a basket wrapped in cellophane.
“What’s this?”
She steps back, next to her husband. “It’s a First Night Care Package.”
My mouth gapes as I blink back at them.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Really?” Harrison examines the gift, taking a look at its contents. “Sparkling cider, wine glasses, ooh…”—his eyes widen with excitement—“chocolate-covered strawberries.”
The pastor’s wife points to the basket. “There are also candles, bubble bath, massage oils, a flirty game called Monogamy, and a book we cowrote called 101 Nights of Passion.”
Beside me, Harrison chokes on a laugh then immediately covers his mouth with his hand, pretending like he’s coughing.
Wow.
“Uh…thank you for this.” I hold up the basket as I back toward the exit.
“We’ll put it to good use.” Harrison follows my lead, heading to the door. “Especially those massage oils and the book. By night one hundred and two, we’re going to be pros.”
I grab his arm, pulling him out to the parking lot before he says anything else embarrassing.
Once in the parking lot, he turns to me with a roguish smile. “Call me old-fashioned, but aren’t we skipping a few steps in our relationship? I didn’t know I needed to pack an overnight bag.”
“Very funny.” I shove the First Night Care Package into his arms. “Here. A souvenir for marrying me.”
“Oh, good. I was secretly hoping for the Monogamy game.”
“I bet you were.” A smile breaks loose over my lips. I can’t help it. “Thank you for doing this today. I know it was a big ask.”
“Nah.” He lifts his shoulders. “It’s just a typical Tuesday afternoon.”
Suddenly, I’m curious about my husband. Where did Sam find this guy?
“Why did you do it?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money to pass up.”
“What are you going to do with the money?”
“Start a business.”
I want to ask what kind of business, but maybe it’s best to leave things as they are. The less we know about each other, the better.
“As soon as I get the first payment from Glen, I’ll transfer the money into your account.”
“Sounds good.”
I extend my arm out. “Well, thanks for marrying me.”
“Anytime.” He takes my hand in something that seems more intimate than a business handshake. “Good luck with law school.” His smile is soft and genuine. “I hope everything works out for you, Camila.”
“Same to you, Harrison.”
Even though meeting, marrying, and never seeing each other again was the plan, I can’t help but look back over my shoulder one last time before completely walking away from my husband.