601 Twilight Ln. by Kat Baxter
Chapter 6
Austin
Currently, we’re walking to the chapel to double check things. But the closer we get, the more flashes of memory come back to me. There was tequila, which is never a good choice for me. There was laughing and flirting. At some point I did push her up against a slot machine and kiss her until we were both panting.
We were holding hands when we walked past the casino wedding chapel. I can’t exactly remember which one of us said something about how ‘we should get married!’ but we did. We marched ourselves into that chapel and said vows.
When we enter the chapel today though, things feel decidedly different. At least from what I can recall of the previous visit.
“None of this looks familiar to me,” Selina murmurs. She side-eyes me. “Do you remember how many shots I had?”
I’m feeling like the biggest kind of ass. I followed her to Syn City to protect her, to keep an eye on her and not only did I let her get drunk, I got drunk and then obviously took advantage of the situation.
I scrub my hand over the back of my head, the familiar prickle of my close-cut hair scratching across my palm. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. I should have done a better job of taking care of you last night.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, fuck off with that hero complex shit. I’m an adult. You’re an adult. We did this—whatever this is—together. You’re not more to blame than me.”
I nod, but don’t say anything. Because all of the thoughts in my head would likely scare her or piss her off.
No matter what she says, I am more to blame than she is. And it’s not any stupid shit like, “because I’m the man” or any other sexist crap.
I’m more to blame, because I just am. First off, I don’t know exactly how old she is, but I estimate she’s in her early twenties. Which means I’m older than her by several years. Older and more experienced. I’ve been to war for fuck’s sake. I should be able to handle drinks in Syn City.
Even if we drank equally, I’ve got at least a hundred pounds on her. And I wasn’t upset. So I should have had some fucking restraint.
Which leads me to the part that would scare her.
I’m not entirely sure I was drunk enough to get married on a whim. The truth is, I could fall in love with this woman—this stubborn, sexy woman who doesn’t put up with anyone’s bullshit. Who protects people weaker than she is, even when it terrifies her. Who makes art out trash.
Hell, I could fall in love with her? Fuck that. I’ve been falling in love with her since she first glared at me in Rosie’s feed store.
When we walked in this chapel last night, she might have been too drunk to know what she was doing, but I was just drunk enough.
“Let’s get this over with.” She pushes open the doors to the chapel.
We’re met with a tiny, older woman standing behind a glass counter/display case. Her smile widens as she sees us, and she claps her hands. She disappears behind the counter for a minute, then pops back up. “I’m so glad you stopped by. Last night you two lovebirds were in such a rush to get into your suite that you raced out before getting these.” She puts some items down on the countertop. “You paid for the gold package, so you don’t want to leave town without your rings. Or your marriage license.”
“We got married.” Selina says the words slowly, like she’s still hoping the woman will make this poof into nothing.
“You sure did, honey.” The woman leans forward with a conspiratorial tone. “And let me tell you, I’ve been in this business a long time and I can tell when couples come and it’s a drunken mistake or if it’s true love. You two are the real deal and you’re going to have one of those blessed happily ever afters.”
I put my arm around Selina’s shoulders and pull her to me, planting a kiss on top of her head. “Yes, ma’am, we are,” I tell the woman. Then I grab the things off the counter and steer Selina out the door.
“Shit! Fuck! Damn it!” she says once we’re back out into the casino hallway.
I grab her by the shoulders and turn her to face me. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out together.”
She exhales slowly and nods. “You’re right. Panicking never solves anything. Let’s just get back to Cherry Falls and we’ll deal with this mess later.”
Calling our spontaneous marriage a ‘mess’ is like a kick to my gut. Maybe it’s the romantic in me, but I believe what that woman said. Selina is my happily ever after. I just need to convince her of that fact.
“I parked my cruiser near your car so let’s go.” We walk out to the parking lot in silence and the moment we step outside we’re met with dark clouds and thunder. “Storms rolling in,” I say as if that isn’t completely obvious by our surroundings.
We get to her car and immediately I can see that there’s something wrong because it’s leaning funny to the right.
“Goddammit! How the fuck did I get a flat?” She walks to the offending tire and kicks it for good measure.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have it towed back to town for you. You can ride with me.” I nod to the black and white parked a few spots over.
She laughs. “In the front with you, or do you want to cuff me and put me in the backseat?”
I close my eyes and slow my breathing because I want nothing more than to crawl into the backseat with her—cuffs or no cuffs—and bury myself deep inside her. Instead I lead her to the passenger side and let her in.
Once I’m seated behind the wheel, I risk a glance at her face. “Don’t joke about shit like that,” I say, my voice sounding rough to my own ears.
She snorts. “Why? Is it against protocol to use city-issued handcuffs for sexual purposes?”
“No. Well, I don’t actually know because I’ve never looked it up.”
“Then why?”
“Because it turns me on, Selina. I’m holding on by a thread here and considering you don’t want to be married to me, then fucking you probably isn’t a good idea.”
She sucks in a breath, then looks out the window.
I start the car and drive out of the parking lot, finding my way to the highway that’ll lead back to Cherry Falls.
We don’t speak for a while and then she swears again which just makes me smile. This tiny slip of a woman can cuss like a full-grown soldier and it’s perfect.
“What’s the matter now?”
“Evidently there’s an impromptu party for us at your mom’s diner. A wedding reception.”
My stomach tightens and my palms grip the steering wheel tighter. I need to be thinking with my head and not so much my heart and my dick. I need to offer her a way out because it’s obviously what she wants. Even though it goes against everything in my being to do it, I say, “We can get an annulment. I’ll explain things to my mama.”
“I don’t think so,” Selina says.
“What does that mean?”
“Obviously the entire fucking town knows we got married. They’ve all seen the pictures. Now there’s a party in our honor. If we walk in there and announce that this was a screw up and then I’ll be the one that will get blamed because I’m the fuck up. You’re the golden boy.”
“Golden boy?”
“Yeah, high school football star, decorated soldier and now you’re a policeman protecting and serving. I’m the one that barely survived high school and had to move away when my parents needed me most. My reputation isn’t tarnished in Cherry Falls yet, but this would do it. Then where would I go?”
There’s so much to unpack in what she just shared. I have so many questions. Why do her parents need her? Jacob didn’t mention anything about that. I caught a glimpse of some of her classmates last night and I’m still pissed I couldn’t hit those fuckers. But it doesn’t seem like the right time to probe any deeper than she already told me.
“What do you want to do then?” I ask.
“We have to pretend that we’re really married. Then we can stage a breakup or something. It’ll have to be your fault. Because your job makes me too nervous. I love you too much and don’t want you to die on the streets.”
“The streets of Cherry Falls?” I ask and even I can hear the sarcasm in my voice. Because let’s face it, our small town is safe and quaint and one fall festival away from being in a Hallmark movie.
“Shut up. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”
“For the record, we are actually married. So there’s not pretending involved with that. That is a legal marriage license.”
“Pretend we’re in love, then.”
“I can do that,” I say. Because damn if I’m not half in love with her already. “If we want to make this look real, you’ll need to move into my place.”
I’m looking straight at the road, making sure I’m a safe driver, but I can feel her whip her head to face me.
“I don’t see why that’s necessary?”
“Really? You’re going to keep your temporary housing at your cousin’s house and not move in with your husband?”
“You’re not my husband.”
“Legally I am. I offered you an out, but if you don’t want that, then we have to do this for real.”
“Whatever.”
I want to laugh, but by some miracle, I manage a straight face.
“We need a deadline,” she murmurs.
“What?”
“For this to end.”
“A year?”
“No! That’s way too long.”
“Okay, how about six months, long enough for us to live as a couple so that people believe our issues are legitimate.”
She exhales slowly. “That should work. Where do you live anyways?”
“Twilight Lane. Not too far from Rosie’s.”
“So I can still use her barn as my workshop.”
“Yeah. And I have a truck if you need to pick up any bigger pieces. Like from an old car.”
“You heard all of that?”
“Yes. I’m curious as to what you’re planning to make. Do you have concept drawings done?”
“In my sketchbook. I’ve got the potential to get some commissioned work with the car parts. That would mean more money I can send to my parents.”
I pause for a moment, then decide to just go for it. “I should probably know what all of that is about. Since I’m your husband and all. I’m likely going to meet them at some point.”
“Shit, that’s…yeah, okay. So my dad has tuberculosis.”
“I didn’t think people got that in the U.S.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty rare, but that just means the medications are stupid expensive. We’re half way through a year of heavy duty antibiotics and the insurance is arguing about who should pay for it, but he can’t stop taking the meds while it gets sorted out.”
The frustration in her voice is palpable.
Oh my sweet, sweet girl. The overwhelming need to protect and shield her from all the ugly life can bring is overwhelming.
“I lost my dad a few years ago to cancer,” I admit.
Her hand touches my thigh and squeezes. “I’m sorry, Austin, I didn’t know.”
“It’s not your fault. Just part of life. It does suck though. My parents were ridiculously in love. But it sucks when someone you love is sick and there’s nothing you can do to fix it.”
She’s quiet so I ask, “does Jacob know? About your father or the medicine?”
“He knows some of it, but mom doesn’t want him to be stressed or to worry. She wants him to keep his head focused so he gets to come home safely. Jesus, it’s not like there’s anything he can do that he isn’t doing already. He’s already sending as much money as he can. What more could he do?”
“What can I do?” I ask, taking her hand into mine.
There’s a single moment of tension before her hand relaxes in mine. She doesn’t answer, but that subtle change feels huge.
I hate that she’s going through this, but this is the first time I’ve pushed and she hasn’t pushed back. It’s the first time I feel like she’s letting me in.
I drive her to Rosie’s so she can pack some stuff, then we head back to my place where we get ready for our wedding reception. I’m tempted to call my mom and tell her to reschedule, but she’s been waiting for me to find someone and get married for years. She’s ready for grandbabies.
I put on some khaki’s and a polo shirt, then head out to find my wife. Damn, everything about that feels right. Except for the fact that she moved her stuff into the second bedroom. My house isn’t big—three bedrooms in total and two baths. One of those bedrooms I use for my home gym so it’s full of equipment. Another is like a home office, but it does have an old day bed in it that kinda doubles as a sofa and bed. There’s a Jack-n-Jill bathroom between those two rooms. Then my bedroom has an en-suite.
I want her in my bed. I want her to be mine for real. Forever. But I’ve got to give her time. I’ve got six months to convince her how good it can be between us. I haven’t even fucked her yet, but I know being inside her is going to be like nothing else.
She comes out of her bedroom a few minutes later and literally steals my breath. She’s wearing a white wrap-dress that hugs her curves, accenting her large tits, her narrow waist and the flair of her hips and ass.
I wipe a hand down my face.
She looks down at herself, then back at me with a frown. “What? Does it not look good?”
“You look gorgeous. So damn pretty.”
I’m sure she blushes, but I don’t call her on it.
“Thank you. This is more like what I should have worn to our wedding and not ripped jeans and a Johnny Cash t-shirt.”
“The veil was a nice touch.”
She laughs. “Those pictures are pretty funny.”
I’m going to print some and put them in the house. Even if I don’t get to keep her forever, she’s mine—at least partially—right now. And I want to remember that.
