Sheri WhiteFeather - A Convenient Texas Wedding

“All right, we’ll figure it out later.” He paused before he asked, “Do you know your ring size?”

She shook her head. She’d never worn a ring before, on any of her fingers. She didn’t own much in the way of jewelry, aside from the costume stuff that she kept in a small wooden box, all tangled up together.

He said, “There must be a way to measure it. I’ll look it up online.” He checked his phone. “Oh, here we go. There’s a paper method that should work. I’ll print this and we can try it.” He got up from his seat. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

While he was gone, she stayed at the dining table, reminding herself to breathe. Within no time, she would be Rand’s wife. She would be sleeping upstairs in that scandalous boudoir, with her hot-as-sin husband on the other side.

He returned with the paper chart and a pair of scissors, striding back into the room and catching her eye.

As he stood next to her chair and cut out the ring sizer, she asked, “When are you going to announce our engagement?”

“You mean publicly? I’d rather wait to make a splash until after we’re married. We’ve got too much to do, trying to plan the ceremony this quickly. If we get bombarded with media attention beforehand, we’ll never get everything done.”

As he took hold of her left hand to size her finger, his touch sent an electric current through her. She nearly jolted from the feeling. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice.

“You’re a six.” He set the chart aside. “I’m going to have to wear a ring, too. I need to look as husbandly as I can, to flash my status as much as possible. But I’ll find myself a plain gold band. Not an antique. Just something simple and modern.”

“Yes, plain bands seem to be what most men prefer.” Or so she assumed. “Would you mind if I took an Uber back to Dallas tonight, instead of you taking me?” She needed some time alone, to sit quietly in her apartment and try to quell her anxiety. “But you can come over tomorrow, if you want.”

“That’s fine. I can stop by after I get your ring. We should probably go to the county clerk’s office tomorrow, too, to apply for our marriage license. You’ll need to have your birth certificate and passport handy for that.”

“I will.” She thought about his social media followers. “I hope your hordes of female admirers don’t hate me for taking you off the market.”

“There isn’t a person in their right mind who could hate you, Allison. You’re just too damn sweet.” When she bit down on her bottom lip, he stared at her. She stared back at him, until he said, “Now give me your phone, and I’ll give you mine so we can program our numbers into them.”

Once that was done, she arranged for her car.

He waited outside with her, with the sun getting lower in the sky. He didn’t kiss her goodbye; he didn’t put his wickedly delicious mouth against hers. They didn’t hug, either. They didn’t do anything that rang of affection.

Then, right before she left, he reached out and smoothed a strand of her hair away from her face with the merest skim of his fingers. A barely there touch that gave her that warm, snug, bread-and-butter pudding feeling again.

Even long after she got home.

* * *

The following day Allison bustled around her apartment, sweeping the floors, vacuuming the area rug beneath the coffee table and fluffing the decorative pillows on the sofa. True to his word, Rand was on his way over to give her the engagement ring he’d purchased and then take her to the county clerk’s office with him.

After she finished tidying up, she smoothed her simple cotton dress and combed her hair, checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked as ordinary as she always did, except maybe a tad more flushed.

About ten minutes later the doorbell rang. She answered the summons and greeted Rand. He was as dapper as ever, dressed in casual clothes, his broad-shouldered body filling up the tiny space on her stoop.

She invited him inside, and he glanced around and said, “This is a cute place, a nice little studio.”

“Thank you.” She’d tried to make it seem more like a one-bedroom by dividing the sleeping area from the living area, but she wasn’t able to block her bed completely. A portion of it was still visible, on the other side of a bookcase.

Thankfully, he didn’t mention it. But why would he say something about her bed?

“It’s bright and sunny,” he said.

Allison nodded. Was he getting the small talk over with before he presented her with the ring? “I like bright spaces.” But so did he, she realized. He had lots of windows in his house. Most of her light was coming from a sliding glass door that led to her patio.

He asked, “Are you keeping this apartment for after the divorce or are you planning on getting a different one?”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.