Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
NANCY
It’s taking everything in me not to climb on top of Karl right now and make good use of this bed. But I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.
“The sooner we get out of here, the sooner you can find out,” I flirt, sitting up and closing the case that’s still open beside me.
“Then let’s get a move on, beautiful.” He jumps up and zips my case for me, then carries it to the door.
I write a very to-the-point resignation letter on the hotel notepad and leave it on my sister’s pillow. When I turn back to Karl, he’s standing at the door, practically bouncing. I can only hope that he remains half this enthusiastic throughout our relationship. Holy crap, our relationship!
Taking one last look into the room, I say a silent goodbye to the only life I’ve ever known before closing the door and following eagerly behind my future.
“I’ve never been here this time of year,” Karl says as we drive slowly down Clifton Hill in Niagara Falls. It already looks like Christmas is in full swing.
“I haven’t either. Would you believe my mother believes it’s tacky?”
Karl frowns as we pass a third haunted house. “I hope this doesn’t upset you, but she’s not entirely wrong. But”—he looks over with a big dorky smile—“sometimes a little bit of tacky is a good thing.”
“She’s going to lose it when she finds out we did this in Niagara Falls. Probably react more to the place we did it and not to the what we did part of the equation.”
He reaches over and takes my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Do you not want to do this? We don’t have to do this.”
“I know we don’t have to.” I raise his hand and kiss the back of it, hoping it’s to reassure him this time. “I’m all in, Karl.”
He spares me a look at a red light. Studying me quickly. “Good.”
“What do you think?” he asks, standing in the center of the room with his arms spread wide. “Will this do for our wedding night?”
I join him and wrap my arms around him tightly. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“So, I was thinking, should we maybe go get rings?”
“Oh damn, I didn’t even think of rings.” I bury my head in his chest. “I guess those are key, eh?”
“I’ve heard it adds to the prestige of marriage.”
“What were you thinking, Mr. Hore?”
He takes my hand and studies my ring finger before kissing it. “I’m thinking of something simple that doesn’t distract from these perfect fingers.”
I roll my eyes at how ridiculous this man is. “Gold bands?”
“Gold bands,” he confirms.
“I’d also like to get something to wear.”
“Should I get a suit?” he asks, looking down at himself.
“No, you’re perfect as is.”
“Says the most beautiful woman to walk the earth.”
“You’re already going to get lucky soon. No need to flatter.”
He stares down at me and gives his head a small shake.
“I’m not trying to flatter you, dearest. I’m only being honest. You took my breath away yesterday.
Yes, yesterday,” he reiterates when that fact once again sinks in.
“I’ve never wanted someone to give me the time of day so damn badly, and when you walked away, everything in me told me to go after you. ”
“I felt awful,” I admit. “I had been so damn rude to you, and it wasn’t me.”
He takes my face in his hands. “I know. It didn’t seem genuine. Now, let's go buy some wedding bands and then go for dinner.”
“How about these?” Cory, the enthusiastic salesman, asks, placing a velvet box of rings on top of the glass counter.
“Yes,” I say, looking at Karl, who is already nodding.
“Simple, exactly what we were looking for,” he confirms.
“Perfect, let me get the sizer, and we’ll get you set up.” He walks away with the box, and Karl and I stand there smiling stupidly at one another.
“Do you want a diamond?” Karl asks, waving toward the case to our left, the contents so sparkly I almost wish I had sunglasses.
“I don’t need a diamond.”
“No one needs a diamond. But lots of people want a diamond.”
“I don’t want one,” I assure him.
Karl looks at me like he can’t believe I’m real, and I lean in to kiss him to prove he’s not dreaming. A throat clearing has us breaking apart as Cory comes back.
I wait patiently as he measures our fingers and writes down the numbers, then selects rings in the correct sizes.
He hands each ring to us so we can put them on ourselves.
I’m nearly overtaken by a fit of giggles when the ring reaches my last knuckle.
I’m wearing a wedding band. Never in a million years did I imagine this is where I’d be in twenty-four hours when I woke up yesterday.
My hand, adorned with the wedding band, slides across my abdomen as I center myself, waiting for the twinge of warning as I get closer to doing this thing. But once again, there’s nothing.
Karl holds his hand up and wiggles his fingers. “How’s it look?”
Mine, I want to say. It makes you look like mine. “Fantastic. Married looks good on you.”
He takes my left hand, from where it’s still resting on my stomach, in his and kisses my ring finger. “I think we look too good in these to call this thing off.”
“Oh, were you thinking of doing that?” I tease.
“Not a chance. We’ll take them,” he says, turning to Cory.
I pull out my wallet only to have Karl’s hand wrap around my hand to stop me.
“I’d like to buy these. You got the hotel.”
“They’re expensive,” I whine, only realizing what I’ve done when it’s too late.
He lowers our hands slowly, his thumb rubbing along the side of mine. “I’m not poor, ya know,” he says slowly. “I may not have your parents' money, but I can afford these for us. And I can afford to take care of you while you figure out what you want to do away from grooming.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” I peek up at him through my lashes. “It’s going to take a while to shed my old prejudices.”
“I’m happy to help you shed them… as well as other things.” His eyes rake down my body, immediately breaking the tension.
Once the rings are paid for, he takes my hand and leads me back into the lobby of our hotel. “Where would you like to have your last dinner as an unmarried woman?”
There’s an Italian restaurant to our left and a steakhouse near the entrance. Neither appeal to me.
“Do you trust me?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t be marrying you if I didn’t.”
I make my way over to the concierge and wait while he finishes helping a frazzled-looking woman.
“May I help you, ma’am?” I shudder at his use of “ma’am.” I don’t feel old enough to be a ma’am. But I also don’t feel old enough to be getting married, so what do I know?
“I was wondering if you could direct us to the famous wonton soup place in the city.”
“Ah,” he sings, nodding in understanding. “Not the usual kind of restaurant our patrons are after, but a good one nonetheless.”
He pulls a map out of his desk and draws a line from where we are staying to the restaurant.
“Oh, wow, it’s not even down here?” I ask, realizing we likely won’t want to walk there.
“I’m afraid it’s not. It’s definitely somewhere you’ll find more locals than out-of-towners.”
“That’s ideal.” I take the paper he offers me. “Thank you.”
“Have a good dinner,” he says as I turn and walk back to Karl.
“So, where are we going?”
“How do you feel about wonton soup?”
“Positively.”
Excellent.