Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
HUDSON
“Lucy, if you don’t stop wiggling,” Silvie groans.
“I want to wear my sparkly sneakers,” Lucy whines, wiggling her foot out of her sister’s hold.
I zip up Angie’s puffy coat. Scratching my fingers into the back of her head, she smiles up at me. “Good?” I ask.
“Thanks, Daddy,” she says softly.
I kiss the top of her head and turn to my little hellion. I kneel down next to Silvie, who is sighing, frustrated. She drops the rainboot, over her baby sister.
“Baby Girl,” I call quietly but firmly.
Lucy turns her pinched face toward me. It takes so much not to grin, but that would only encourage her behavior. “It snowed yesterday, which means the ground is cold, wet, and muddy. Do you want to ruin your sparkly sneakers with dirt?”
She frowns, twisting her mouth dramatically. She’s finding ways to negotiate in her head to win.
“Luce.”
With a heavy sigh, she rolls her eyes. Instead of answering, she sticks out her foot and raises her brows at her older sister. Now, I can’t help the laugh I’ve been holding in.
I grab her head and pull her in to kiss the top of it. “Please, don’t become a teenager. Ever.”
Silvie, used to her sister's antics, just resumes putting her rainboots on.
It’s been two days since I almost kissed Violet.
My mouth said one thing, but the way she looked up at me had my body betraying those words.
Her blue eyes darkened and hooded, the sharp intake of breath when I moved the hair from her face…
that sound coming from those full, peach parted lips has haunted me when I’m alone in bed.
This is already messy, and we haven’t even slapped a legal, binding document on it yet.
As much as the pull I’m feeling is tempting to explore, I can’t give in.
Not now. Maybe not ever. The girls are my priority, and they already love her.
Silvie’s even warming up to her. If I fuck this up by muddying the waters with this arrangement, it doesn’t only cost me the custody case, but the girls lose someone else.
They need stability in everything: home, schooling, friendships, and the people they can count on to love them.
“Girls,” I gather them near and seat them on the bench by the door.
I meant to bring this up earlier, but I kept putting it off, thinking we’d have time before Kristy is due to pick them up. Shit. I’m supposed to get married tomorrow.
“I want to talk to you about something very important.”
Lucy swings her feet happily, Angie watches me with curiosity, and Silvie’s eyes narrow with suspicion. I take a deep breath and rip the band-aid.
“How do you feel about me getting married?”
Lucy’s eyes bug out. “To Mommy?”
“No, Baby Girl, not to your mother,” I say gently. Her exhale of relief eases some of the tension in my gut.
“Violet,” Silvie states.
Of course. My eldest beauty is perceptive. “Yes. How would you feel about me marrying Violet?”
All three eyes, various shades of their mother’s and mine, stare, thinking.
“I like her,” Angie starts. “She’s really nice, and funny, and I think she cares.”
“She’s super pretty, like a princess, and makes perfect cookies,” Lucy shares, making me smile.
I then look at my eldest and wait.
“If you have any questions, please ask. Don’t ever be afraid to tell me the truth of how you feel,” I reassure. “It’s going to happen quick. Tomorrow.”
“But I can’t be your flower girl. I’ll be at Mom’s!” Lucy’s puckered, cranky face is back.
“It’s going to be simple. At the courthouse. For now,” I say, hoping to appease my daughter. “There can always be a bigger one later.” Probably a stupid thing to put in their heads.
“You love her?” Silvie asks.
Shit. Okay. This is the part I’m struggling with.
If Violet and I do this, we can’t let the girls know it’s not real.
They’ll tell their mother, and the entire reason for this arrangement will fall apart.
I have to convince them most of all that Violet and I are madly in love, so much so that we’d rush to marry.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I hate lying to the girls. I encourage us to always be honest. I take Silvie’s hand.
“When I met her, I didn’t expect to feel what I did. Each new day, she surprised me with her joy, her kindness, and big heart. She’s like sunshine. I’m lucky to marry her. And I hope all of you feel how much she already cares about each of you.”
Not a lie.
“Daddy loves Vi,” Lucy giggles.
“We can’t be at the wedding?” Angie asks.
“Not tomorrow, baby. But, if Violet and I choose to do a bigger wedding in the future, I will make sure all of you are there.”
A loud, incessant honk announces Kristy’s arrival. My heart literally hurts in my chest at the thought of letting them go back to her and whatever homelife they’re experiencing.
“Alright, girls. Your mom is here. Be good and call me anytime.” I kiss each of them and get them out of the house.
Kristy doesn’t even bother getting out of the car. I help buckle Lucy into her car seat.
“Kristy,” I try to be the bigger person and acknowledge her.
“Hi, Mommy,” Lucy greets loudly.
“Hey, Luce. Buckle up, we have to go,” Kristy tells them.
My back molars clench.
“Love you girls. See you next weekend,” I remind them. We get to see each other every weekend now. And hopefully soon, every day.
The girls smile at the reminder while Kristy finally acknowledges me with a glare. I subtly shake my head, making it clear this is not the time to get into shit. Especially in front of the girls.
I watch them leave, that string that ties each of them to me pulling uncomfortably tight.
Last night, Sanford drove to the ground the necessity to make this marriage look as real as possible.
Without the girls during the week, Violet and I at least can drop the farce and just be, adjust. But when we’re in public and the girls return next weekend, we’ll have to be on twenty-four seven.
Sleeping in the same bed. Touching….kissing.
I scrub my hand down my face, letting the cold December air bite into my skin, welcoming the sting. I left my coat inside, but I don’t mind. I stand out here and let my mind race.
Tomorrow, Violet Huxley will be Violet Wilder. My wife.
Holy shit. I need to go chop some wood.
I pace outside Eden Ridge Municipal. All I could find was one navy blue sport jacket I’m wearing under my thick brown coat, and black slacks. I cleaned up my full beard and loosely slicked back my hair as I usually do.
Violet texted me this morning, reminding me that our two witnesses, her father and best friend, who’s with a Hunter, know the truth. We don’t have to play it up in front of them. But we do in front of the officiant.
I’m not ready.
I pull the longer strands slightly curled at my nape.
It’s a lot for one day. Marriage and moving in a woman I don’t know.
Not a stranger. I think we’re past that, but there’s too much unknown still.
Small facets of her that we both need to learn before we’re interviewed, and spontaneous inspections show up.
If it didn’t look bad, I’d be sipping on whiskey. I need to calm the fuck down before I pass out.
The soft click of heels alerts me. I turn, and my heart stops, then restarts.
An angel walks up the concrete stairs, the sun beaming behind her.
She’s in a floor-length sundress that’s white with tiny yellow flowers on it.
Over it, her fitted coat, but I can still see the dress cinched at her waist, flaring out over the curve of her hips.
Damn. The instant image of getting my hands on her bare hips, my fingers sinking into her skin as I grip her tight against me, assaults me.
Fucking hell, Hud. Don’t get hard because her damn father is walking beside her.
That kills the erection real quick when I narrow in on her father. He’s a mess. It’s eleven in the morning, and he’s clearly hungover, deep bags under his red eyes, rumpled button-down stuffed half-hazardously into his pants. He’s chugging what I assume–and hope–is coffee from a thermos.
My girl’s expression is pinched, speaking softly to her father as they approach. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but his irritated expression tells me he doesn’t like to be told what to do.
Did I just say, my girl?
She’s not your girl, Hud…
But she’s about to be my wife.
A protective surge pushes me to hasten my steps and meet her halfway. She has her father walking right beside her, and yet, my golden angel looks more alone than I’ve seen when we’ve been together.
No more, Goldie. You won’t be alone anymore.
“Morning,” I tell them. “You look beautiful, Violet,” I tell her honestly.
Her cheeks blush a sweet, rosy under her naturally peach flush. Her father scoffs. Holding back my temper, I respectfully hold out my hand.
“Good morning, sir. Thank you for coming.”
“She’s my daughter. Of course I’d come,” he spits with disgust, looking me up and down. “Hear you got yourself into trouble. Again.”
“Dad, stop it,” she says firmly.
“I know you were with Eden PD, so you know my past. But that’s where it’s stayed.
In my past. I have spent longer than three years turning it around.
The moment my eldest, Silvie, was put in my arms at the hospital, I wanted to protect her.
My three girls are my entire world. I’d do anything for them. Anything,” I inflect hard.
“Admirable and he’s hard working,” Violet defends. I wish she didn’t have to. “And he loves those girls fiercely. I’ve seen it. And they love him. This is worth it.”
Her father grumbles something about going to the bathroom and walks off.
“I’m sorry about him,” she says softly.
Her golden blonde hair is in short waves with a pearl piece pulling one side up behind her ear. My finger unconsciously reaches out and rubs the center pearl gently.
“Don’t apologize, Vi, he’s the parent. And while you’re a grown woman, he shouldn’t revert to being the child now.”