King blinks, his eyes slide over to me, and then suddenly his mouth is on mine. A hundred memories come rushing back with the feel of his lips, but he’s gone before I can react or respond, pulling away and taking my hand.
“We need to get back to work,” he says and tugs me to the door. “Thanks, Judge Delgado.”
“Anytime,” the judge replies. “Well, not anytime, obviously. You only get married once.”
Suddenly I feel slightly sick. Maybe I caught the bug King had yesterday. I think I may have crossed too far into the “anything to get the job done” side of my personality, but it’s too late to go back now.
Coop silently follows us out, hands in his pockets and enough judgment in his expression to say everything he’s holding back.
None of us say anything until we reach King’s truck. I’m still feeling a little off balance from that kiss, so I just stand here and try to process the notion that I’m a married woman now. A wife. That’s my husband standing next to me with his jaw clenched and a whole lot of something brewing behind his eyes.
“Coop,” he says eventually, “you’ll help make sure everyone thinks it’s real?”
I frown, glancing between the two men. “You told him it’s fake?”
King shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because he could tell other people.”
“He wouldn’t do that. Would you, Coop?”
Coop lifts an eyebrow but says nothing, which is not at all reassuring.
Folding my arms, I do my best to look fierce, though it’s hard to feel like I have any leverage when I’m boxed in by two large men. I am not starting off this marriage, no matter how short it will be, by being pushed around. “You do realize that we’re married now, which means we’re in this together, right? You can’t make decisions about this arrangement without my input.”
King matches my stance, and of course he looks way more impressive with his large arms and broad shoulders. “You’re telling me you haven’t given Cece all the details of this arrangement?”
“How do you know about Cece?”
He lifts one shoulder. “Well?”
“No, I haven’t told her…yet.” I tack that last word on reluctantly. “But it’s not the same when she isn’t in Willow Cove. Coop is here, and he knows all the people we have to convince that we are happily married.”
“You’re doing a terrible job of it, by the way,” Coop mutters, frowning at each of us in turn. “Do I need to be worried about the two of you strangling each other in the middle of the night? And I don’t mean that as a euphemism.”
I groan. “Why are you still here?”
Shrugging, he starts looking at the sky with disinterest. “Because King is my ride back to Coral Berry. If you want my opinion…”
“I don’t,” I grumble.
“You should show up at the boardwalk together. Half the town probably knows what just went down in the courthouse.”
“Already?” It was so much easier to keep things a secret in New York, where people minded their own business. “Ugh, I hate small towns.”
Maybe I imagine it, but King winces a little before he digs his keys out of his pocket and hands them to Coop. “We’re planning a honeymoon at the end of the season, when everything calms down and we don’t have businesses that need our attention.” He says it in a way that is clear he’s expecting his friend to help spread that explanation for why we’re going back to our day like nothing has happened instead of celebrating our nuptials.
Coop nods. “Fine. Just remember I’ve got an extra cot in the boat house if you need an escape.” He gives King a pointed look, throws another glare toward me, and then climbs into King’s truck and drives off.
And now I feel entirely awkward, which is exactly how a girl wants to feel on her wedding day with her new husband. “So.”
King narrows his eyes. “So.”
“You kissed me.”
“I had to make it look real.”
“Are you going to have to do that a lot?”
“Hopefully not.”
“Agreed.” Honestly, I’m not sure if I say that because I don’t want him to kiss me or because I do. I did plenty of dating over the last ten years and got my fair share of kisses, but something about King’s kiss is still buzzing around inside of me. I don’t like it. “We should probably lay down some more specific rules when it comes to being out in pub—”
“Is that Royal Kingston I see?” An older woman sashays across the parking lot with the grace of a waddling goose, her gray hair making a valiant effort to escape the braid it’s in. She has a wide smile on her face, but the look in her eyes is anything but friendly. “I just heard the craziest thing about you.”
Before I can even try to remember if I know this woman, King tugs me up against his side and splays his hand at my waist. Goodness, did his hands get bigger too? Heat spreads through me from his fingers to the tip of my nose, and it was already hot outside to begin with. I’m probably beet red right now.
“Mrs. Pinnock,” he says cheerfully. “I’d bet you’re glad to have school over for a few months. What adventures have you and Carl planned for this summer?”
She clucks her tongue at him. “Now now, Royal, you won’t distract me that easily.” Her eyes stray over to me, sliding from my head to my toes and making me burn even warmer. “Who is this delightful little miss?”
She’s clearly asking the question of King, even though her eyes are still fixed on me. It’s like she’s expecting me to stand here in silence, which has never been my style.
I hold out a hand. “Georgie Carp—” I yelp when King’s fingers dig into my side. It’s as much the tickle of it as it is the proximity I haven’t had a chance to process. “Georgie,” I repeat, leaving off my last name. I have no plans to change it, but I can see why it will confuse people if I go around advertising myself as not a Kingston.
“My wife,” King adds. His voice isn’t as strong as it was a second ago. The words seem to fall out of him, and his grip on my waist tightens, making me squirm again.
Mrs. Pinnock’s mouth falls open in a large O as she ignores my outstretched hand entirely. “Your…your wife? Surely not.”
