Chapter 8
Roman’s pull on people should probably scare me, how he’s able to weave his charm around them, bending them to get what he wants. He got us an appointment within a few minutes of being here, and now we’re getting fucking married.
My hands tremble as I wipe my palms on my ripped jeans.
Ashley stands just off to the side of the two of us, but I can’t bring myself to look at either her or Roman. I’m barely listening to the man in here marrying us, repeating when I’m instructed to.
“Do you have rings?” At that, my head whips up. I never even thought about rings.
“Yes,” Roman keeps his eyes on me as he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and produces two ring boxes.
He hands a dark blue one to me while keeping the red box.
“Niamh, would you like to give Roman his ring?” I’m prompted.
“Right,” I stammer and snap open the box, finding a simple gold band inside. The ring is cool as I tug it from the cushion it’s embedded in and reach for his hand, slipping it onto his finger.
“Roman,” For a second, Roman doesn’t move, just stares at the band now on his finger, but he recovers quickly and opens his box, the air stalling in my throat.
It’s beautiful. A simple and delicate platinum band with a half band of smaller diamonds framing a huge square-cut diamond in the center.
I shake my head. “That’s too much.”
He reaches for my hand, and I let him, my chest tightening the further he slips it onto my finger. The diamonds catch in the light, sparkling with every turn and twist of my hand.
“It’s beautiful,” I blink a few times and look back up to him, but he isn’t looking at me; he’s looking at the ring on my finger, a look I can’t recognize twisting his face.
A throat is cleared, and we snap our heads around.
“I officially declare you man and wife; you may kiss the bride.”
Oh. Oh shit.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to refuse, but I know I can’t. We’re married, we’re supposed to pretend this is real, and what woman would refuse to kiss the man she just married? This is meant to be the happiest day of our lives. I have to work with it, pretend.
I swallow thickly as Roman steps forward, his amber eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them, and he lifts his hand, cradling the side of my face, his hard, rough fingers slipping into my hair. His eyes bounce between mine a few times before he closes the gap and his warm, pillowy lips press to mine.
He tastes as good as he smells. A little spicy, and a lot warm.
My skin pebbles and my heart kicks up a few beats as I part for him, my tongue sweeping out for a better taste, and for a moment, this doesn’t feel fake at all.
He meets my tongue with his own, angling my head to delve deeper, the hair around his mouth tickling against my skin.
I feel his fingers flex against my scalp as my own hands run up the front of his shirt, feeling the ridges and dips of his hard abdominal muscles.
A throat clears, and the moment is shattered when we both jump away from each other. I meet his wide eyes, my breath coming out in heavy pants, my lips still tingling from his kiss.
Swallowing thickly, I drop his gaze and look to my best friend, who is gaping at us from the front row of chairs. I’m sure I match that look.
“I’ll have this sent to the courthouse.”
“How quickly can we get the certificate?” I hear Roman reply, but I’m already moving to Ashley, leaning against her for support. What the hell did I just do?
Ashley doesn’t say a word, she simply puts her arm around me and supports me silently, knowing what I need without me ever asking.
Roman finishes speaking and starts toward us.
“Let’s go.” His tone is cold and flat.
The ring on my finger is a weight I’m not used to, and I fiddle with it as I follow him out of the courthouse, toward his truck parked on the side of the road.
He opens the back door for Ashley and then mine silently, and the trip back to Sunstone Ridge is much the same; not even the radio is playing to ease the weight of what we just did.
“We’re going to need to talk,” Ashley says as we hover at the gate leading up to the house.
“I know.”
“That kiss looked real, Niamh.”
“Well, it wasn’t,” I assure her, “Just a show. It’s all for show.”
She purses her lips. “Call me later, yeah?”
I nod and give her a hug before she kisses my cheek and heads up the path to her house, leaving me and Roman alone for the first time since we got married an hour ago.
He keeps his eyes forward as I climb back into the car and then pulls away from the sidewalk, following the road that leads us back into town.
“We’ll grab you a bag from your place, and I’ll arrange a company to move the rest of your things.” Roman announces, that indifferent tone from back at the courthouse still there.
“Okay.” There’s no point fighting.
“We will get the certificate in a couple of days.” He continues. “It’ll be fast tracked but, in the meantime, I’ve requested the money be transferred to you.”
“You’re not going to wait?”
“We’re married, Niamh. You signed a contract.”
I nod, “Okay. Thank you.”
He dips his chin before he opens his window and rests his arm on the door, a chilly breeze sweeping through the truck. I tuck my arms around myself and look out to the mountains, my thumb twisting my ring.
The bar is packed when we pull up outside, and it just makes me realize how thankful I am for my staff and managers. I won’t be working today, I’m not sure I’ll have the mental capacity to do so, but I know it’s covered, so I don’t have to worry.
I open my door and start for the bar but the steps following me stop me in my tracks.
“You don’t need to come.”
Roman frowns. “Why not?”
“I’m getting an overnight bag,” I point out. “It’s hardly worthy of an audience.”
“Let’s go, Niamh, I have work to do.”
My brows shoot up, but he continues, not looking back at me once. It takes me a few seconds to follow after him, finding him talking with a couple of my regulars. He’s laughing and joking with them, his left hand in his pocket, so I do the same, hiding the ring on my own finger.
I give a quick greeting to the staff working today’s shift and then head through to the stairs, taking them two at a time so I can get this bag packed.
If he’s only going to stay down there, then what was the point of him coming in at all?
How long before we have to start telling people we’re married?
People will notice me not being here, they’ll see me leave with him, and the moment they do, all the rumors will start.
This is going to be the hardest part. The way people will talk behind my back, what they’ll say. I shouldn’t care what they think, but it’s hard not to when I’ve grown up around these people; they know me.
I pull a duffel from my closet and throw it onto my bed before I go through the clothes hanging on the rail inside, pulling out a couple pairs of jeans and tees as well as a few sweaters, my second set of cowboy boots and sneakers before I move to the drawers for my underwear and pajamas.
My head snaps around when the door to my studio opens and Roman steps inside, his left hand still in his pocket.
“Are you ready?” He asks.
“Does it look like it?” I snap, every single nerve on overdrive.
“An attitude already?” He smirks, “We haven’t even been married a couple of hours.”
My shoulders sag. “Sorry, this is just a lot.” I tell him, remembering how it felt to be kissed by him.
I’m not sure anyone has ever kissed me the way he did, how he poured his entire being into it.
But I have to remember it’s nothing special, that he’s probably kissed hundreds of women the very same way and he’s just good at it.
We’ve all heard the rumors, every woman in Sunstone Ridge has heard them and wanted a piece of it.
I get it, who wouldn’t want to be the center of Roman Knight’s attention?
Well, now I am, and I have yet to decide if I like it.
Packing everything into the bag, I head through to the bathroom and pack up my toiletries and shove them inside, zip it up and pull the strap onto my shoulder. It’s barely settled before it’s tugged right back off.
Roman heads out without a word, my bright pink duffel hanging off his shoulder and his left hand holding the strap.
For a moment I stare after him, my mouth agape, but then I hear the door open and close downstairs, and I know I need to follow. I grab my keys and lock up before I rush down to the bar.
There’s a quiet in here now that wasn’t there before, and once the staff door swings shut, every pair of eyes turns to me. I see Roman waiting at the door with my bag, that ring on his finger catching the light streaming through the large windows.
No words need to be spoken; it’s as if everyone just knows.
It feels like a walk of shame as I cross the space, my shoes tapping on the wood floor as I go.
Eyes follow me, and as I reach Roman, the whispers begin.
His free hand goes to the small of my back to guide me outside, his face purposely blank where mine is crumbling.
Walls are closing in on me, forcing me to my knees…
“You’re okay,” He whispers.
I flick my eyes to him.
“You’re okay.” He repeats, guiding me into his truck.
I take a deep breath and allow his words to settle in me, willing them to be true. I am okay. Everything is fine.
I had to do this.
Twelve months will fly by.
I’ll be working a lot anyway, and the time I’m not, I can just hold up in the room he gives me or spend it down at the falls.
That ranch house is huge, I doubt I’ll even see him that much. He’s got to be busy, right? Ranches don’t run themselves, and with one that size, I’m sure it’ll keep him even busier than me.
Beside me, Roman slides behind the wheel and switches on the engine. Glancing at him, I see him flexing the fingers on his left hand and fiddling with the gold band, twisting it round and around.
I’m just going to treat this as I treat all business. With a straight head and an end goal. I did this for the bar after all, like everything I do, and this doesn’t have to be any different from when I sign contracts with suppliers.
A business arrangement that benefits us both.
I can survive Roman Knight; it’s not like I’ll fall in love with him.