Rory
I guess we’re skipping over the first part of that rhyme and moving straight to the baby and marriage.
As I stand outside the courthouse in the only off-white dress I own, waiting to marry a man I barely know, I can’t stop thinking about the absurdity of this moment.
I used to fantasize about marrying Hayden. About having a big wedding and kids. About us playing music on our back porch. It’s an old dream I haven’t let myself think about since I found him screwing Taylor in my childhood home.
I thought I was doing everything right in that relationship with my ex. I took things slow. Waited to sleep with him until we were official. Baked him cookies and sat around during every one of his stupid band rehearsals.
And what did that get me? A broken heart and trampled pride. Public humiliation when the whole town found out he cheated with my dang stepsister and my family sided with them. Because they were a “better fit.”
I like to extrapolate things. For instance, if I was a baby like Layla, and my father was in Jace’s shoes right now and could go on a national tour if he left his child behind, would he choose me, his only daughter?
When my mom was alive, I would’ve said yes, without a doubt.
Now I’m not so sure.
So maybe this is unconventional. Maybe I’m a giant sucker, but when Jace said he couldn’t leave his daughter, that it was killing his soul to even think about doing that, he won me over.
And while I’m not going to let down my guard around him, I’m on board to take care of Layla and play the role of wife for a few months.
We just have to get through the summer, and then Jace and I will file for divorce and go our separate ways.
And if we can pop into Taylor’s reception to show everyone I’m not the loser my family thinks I am, even better.
Paige hooks her arm through mine. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“I haven’t passed out yet.” Yet being the operative word.
“It’s going to be fine. Think of this tour as a grand adventure. You’re going to get to see the country and have a front-row seat to Jace’s band kicking ass.”
I fiddle with a button on my dress. “Is their music that good?”
Her brows lift. “You haven’t heard them?”
“No.”
“You’re in for a treat. Wayward Sons is ah-maze-ing. Jace’s voice is killer.”
Reluctantly, I admit their name is cool.
I’ve been afraid to check into his band. What if I love his music? That would be another chink in my armor, one I can’t afford.
Baylee joins us, hands me a bouquet of white roses, and cups her ear. “Do you hear that? It’s the sound of women across Texas crying over Jace getting married.”
I sniff the delicate petals. “They’re welcome to him in four months when we divorce.”
Baylee and Paige share a look I won’t attempt to decipher. If I had to make a playlist for today, it would kick off with Sheryl Crow’s “Favorite Mistake.”
Because I’m pretty sure I’m going to regret this for a number of reasons.
One, I’m marrying a man I could barely stand until a few days ago.
Two, I don’t do well with crowds or strangers or people in general unless they’re talking about books.
And three, I’m a homebody, through and through. I’ve barely been anywhere.
None of that spells success for this ill-advised “adventure.”
But I won’t be a Negative Nancy on my wedding day. I’ve already agreed to do this, and I’m not someone who gives my word only to bail.
Layla is adorable. She’s a sweet baby. I’ll take good care of her, I’ll get paid well so I can afford a new apartment, and Jace will become the star he’s destined to be.
Honey joins us and squishes me in a hug. “I’m so excited for you. You’re going to have so much fun on this tour. Are you excited? I love road trips.”
Excited isn’t the word I would use. I’m guessing everyone filled in Honey on the details.
“It’ll definitely be an experience.” I nudge Baylee. “Thanks for the flowers. I can pay you back.”
“Shut up. As if I’d accept your money.” She hugs me. “I wish we had more time to plan for today. Maybe take you shopping for wedding stuff.”
“It’s not like I’m really getting married.”
“According to the state of Texas, you are.” She shrugs. “Plus, you guys have to pretend you’re married for everyone, right? Or is it only for fans when you two are out and about?”
“We’re pretending for everyone. Jace thought it would be better if we were consistent, rather than trying to flip things on and off depending on who we’re around. I was afraid I couldn’t keep everyone straight.”
“Smart.” She brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “You look gorgeous. Don’t forget to smile so I can get some good photos.”
“Photos?” I press my hand to my gurgling stomach.
Paige nods and gives me a hopeful smile as she snaps a blue bracelet around my wrist. “In case the label wants more proof you and Jace are legit.”
We’re so far from legit, it’s comical. Jace’s manager even spelled it out—I’m not his type and no one will believe he married me on purpose.
That was a morale booster. But if Jace doesn’t care we have nothing in common, and doesn’t mind hanging out with a complete stranger for the next few months, I can suck it up.
“This is pretty.” I lift my arm to get a better look at the jewelry. “What’s it for?”
“It’s something borrowed and blue. You already had your dress, so that’s old, though it looks brand new. It’s lovely, by the way. And your roses are new. I wanted to make sure you were off on the right foot. For good luck.”
Admittedly, I haven’t felt lucky in a long time. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate everything you’re doing to try to make today better.”
A frown forms on Baylee’s face as she studies me. “If this is too much, say the word, and I’ll drive the getaway car. I don’t want you to do this if you think it’s a bad idea.”
Paige grabs my hand. “I’m with Baylee on this. Yes, we want it to work out for all the reasons, but not against your will.”
They’re so nice, it almost brings tears to my eyes. “I can handle it. Thanks, though.”
My words come out confidently, way more confidently than I’m feeling.
Three trucks pull up behind us, and a minute later, Jace and his brothers stroll up. Jace grins when he sees me. “Look at you. So lovely.” He kisses the back of my hand and winks. Leans closer and whispers, “I owe you. So fucking much. You don’t even know.”
I barely hold back a shiver and offer an awkward smile. “Glad I could help.”
I’ve never seen Jace in a suit before. In a tux and in jeans and t-shirts, sure. But he’s even more devastating in a suit for some reason. His thick hair has been tamed, but he’s still sporting his signature scruff.
Combined with the clothes and the scent of his cologne, I’m overwhelmed. The man should come with a warning: May cause dizziness and heart palpitations.
The Walkers and I make it up the courthouse steps while my heart races like I’m walking a tightrope. I try to suck in deep breaths to calm down, but my palms are sweating and my ears are ringing. Is tinnitus a side effect of making bad decisions?
When I agreed to get married, I thought Jace and I would do this without fanfare.
But with his brothers and their significant others here, this is starting to feel more real.
The courthouse smells faintly like old coffee and Pine-Sol.
While the exterior might be beautiful, the interior leaves much to be desired.
The waiting area features plastic chairs that are bolted to the floor and fluorescent lights that make everyone look slightly unwell.
On the wall is a motivational poster about civic responsibility that’s likely never motivated anyone.
Two other couples wait ahead of us, one of them holding hands, the other studying their phones. Nobody looks like they’re having the best day of their lives.
I suppose that makes sense. This is where you go when you need marriage to be efficient.
When the woman behind the plexiglass window calls our names and instructs us to meet the judge, Jace places his big palm at the center of my back as we walk down the hallway. “From this point on, I think we should go all in. Just think of me as the ol’ ball and chain.”
He’s funny. I’ll give him that. I chuckle nervously. “It’s a cross I’ll have to bear.”
He drapes his arm around my shoulders. “That’s my girl.”
I’m Jace’s girl. Ha. I almost roll my eyes. “What are we going to tell your bandmates?” I whisper. “Won’t they wonder why they’ve never heard my name before?”
“I have a plan.” That gets me another wink. “Trust me.”
Trust. That’s a tough one for me, but I guess I’ll have to try.
Ten minutes later, we’re standing in front of a judge, and I’m staring into Jace’s bottle-green eyes, feeling dizzy.
He shoots me a crooked smile as he takes my sweaty hands in his. “I, Jace Walker, take you, Aurora Anderson, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forth.”
How does he look so calm? When the judge turns to me, Jace must realize I’m freaking out because he squeezes my palm. I nod and repeat the words after the judge.
“I, Aurora Anderson, take you, Jace Walker, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forth.”
His eyes are so bright, and for a moment, we just stare at each other as my breath saws in and out of my chest.
The judge turns to Jace. “Do you have rings to exchange?”
We agreed to get cheap rings at the local pawn shop, but when Jace pulls out a beautiful band with little diamonds, my heart pangs in my chest. Because that’s a lot nicer than what we agreed on.
Jace repeats the words of the judge. “With this ring, I thee wed.” When he slips it on my finger, he leans closer to whisper, “Do you like it? Thought this would look nice on you.”
“It’s stunning.” I hold out my hand and admire it.
“You can keep it. After,” he says, under his breath.
After?
Oh, he means after we divorce.
A million thoughts rush through my mind as I consider his words, but the one that rises to the top is that Jace is giving me a gift. This ring is his way of thanking me. Smiling, I nod. “Thank you.”
The judge clears his throat. “Aurora, it’s your turn.”
Right. “With this ring, I thee wed.” I grab Jace’s large, calloused hand and slip on the simple band I bought him with money he gave me, and I feel a twinge of guilt for not purchasing it on my own. Which is ridiculous since this isn’t a real marriage.
The judge proclaims, “You may kiss the bride,” and the Walkers cheer and shout.
Jace leans close and whispers, “For the photos,” before he tilts me backwards and levels me with a lethal smile.
When his nose brushes mine, my heart thrashes against my ribs, but as he gazes into my eyes, his playfulness vanishes.
He cradles my head, his touch unexpectedly tender, almost protective, and presses his mouth to mine.
For a moment, everyone in the courtroom vanishes. It’s just the two of us and the devastating weight of this kiss.
All I can think about is his minty breath and the stubble on his jaw. How his hands grip me tight. How he smells so good. How my whole body lights up when he’s so close.
This arrangement is supposed to be a transaction, an unemotional business deal, but the unexpected warmth of his kiss leaves me breathless.
Somehow, nothing feels simple anymore.
I’m still clinging to him as he lifts me upright. He looks down at me, perfectly composed, and winks, the casualness of it telling me everything I need to know—I might be in over my head.
A second later, he points to the camera, a sudden reminder of the script we’re following. I swallow, turn to our friends, and smile like I just married the man of my dreams.