Page 80 of Stolen Vows

27

FRANCESCA

I was preparedfor a simple kiss. A brief brush of lips. An obligatory peck to seal the legal contract of marriage.

I wasn’t prepared for Graham Carter kissing me like a man staking a claim.

The heat of his mouth, the way his hands framed my face—steady, possessive—sent a shock straight through me. My fingers curled into his suit jacket, an instinctive reaction, as if I needed to hold on to something. Or maybe keep myself from falling.

It should’ve been a second. Just enough to make it believable. But he lingered. His thumb skimmed my jaw, his lips parted, and for a moment, one impossible, heart-stuttering moment, I forgot where we were.

Thank god his family started cheering, otherwise, I might’ve really embarrassed myself by hiking my leg up and throwing my arms around him.

I barely hear them over the rushing in my ears. Cora whooping, Beau clapping, his mom dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. It’s all muffled, distant, like I’m underwater.

Graham pulls back slowly, his forehead brushing mine before he straightens. His expression is unreadable, but his breathing is uneven, his jaw tight.

I feel unsteady. Off-kilter. Like something monumental just happened, and I’m the only one who realizes it.

It was just a kiss.

Except it wasn’t. And that’s the problem.

I reach for Romeo’s leash out of sheer necessity, grounding myself in something familiar. He lets out a happy little huff, tail thumping and oblivious to the way my world just tilted on its axis.

Hazel claps her hands together, beaming at me. “Time to celebrate the new couple! Let’s go to that one place in Rosewood. They have that wood-fire grill they use, right, Lucas?”

I blink, still disoriented. “Celebrate?”

“Hickory & Spice,” she continues, already pulling out her phone. “I’ll make a reservation?—”

“We’re going to have to raincheck, Ma,” Graham says smoothly, cutting her off.

I glance at him in surprise, relief weighing my shoulders down.

His mom blinks, her smile twisting a little. “Don’t be ridiculous, Graham. I’m notnotgoing to celebrate with my oldest son on his wedding day.”

Cora frowns. “Wait, what? You’re really not coming to dinner?”

“Maybe another time,” Graham says, his voice even.

I shift my weight, fingers tightening around Romeo’s leash and Graham’s hand. My chest is too tight, my breathing unsteady. I hadn’t realized how much I needed the out until he gave it to me.

I expect his mom to protest, but his dad steps in. “Let them settle in, Hazel.” His voice is calm, sure. He meets Graham’s gaze, something unspoken passing between them. “Francesca’s moving in tonight, remember?”

I watch Graham’s shoulders relax ever so slightly.

Hazel exhales, her smile softening. “Right. I forgot you guys were being traditional.”

Traditional. Is that how he spun it? What a clever man my new husband is.

“C’mon, Ma, you don’t want to spend your son’swedding nightwith him, do you?” Beau says, waggling his brows.

“Oh,” Hazel says with a little gasp of understanding. “Right, well, we’ll see you at next Sunday dinner.

“Sure thing, Ma,” Graham promises.

We say our goodbyes, and Graham’s hand is warm and steady on the small of my back as he guides me out of the courthouse, Romeo trotting happily beside us. The late afternoon sun is bright, making me squint as we step into the parking lot. It feels surreal, like I’m stepping into a different world. A world where I’m married. To Graham Carter.

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