Page 27 of Breakout
I look around and see that we are stopped at a stoplight before I turn toward him. “I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, it just hit me that I’m about to be someone’s wife.”
A smile crosses his face, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “You’re about to bemywife.”
Something about that simple statement sets my body on fire.
Jesus, do I have a “my wife” kink?
I clear my throat. “And you’re going to be my husband.”
He hums and squeezes my leg again. “I can’t wait.”
Before I know it, we are pulling into the courthouse parking lot.
“Stay there.”
Before I can say anything, Beckett jumps out and runs to my side of the car. First, he opens the back door and grabs something before he opens mine.
“You really don’t have to do that, you know.”
He shrugs. “I wanted to. These are for you.”
I gasp as I take what he’s holding out. “Beckett…”
The bouquet is beautiful with white roses, some soft pink flowers I don’t know the name of. With the pops of green, it’struly beautiful. I can’t say it’s something I would have picked out for myself, but it’s perfect for a wedding.
Much to my dismay, tears gather in the corner of my eyes. Damn this man. Never in my life has someone given me flowers. I’ve never even bought any for myself because I’ve always felt like they should come from someone else.
“Every bride deserves flowers on her wedding day.” He shrugs as if it’s not a big deal when we both know it is.
I open my mouth, but no words come out. I’m speechless. Time and time again, this man surprises me.
“We better head inside, or we will be late,” he says.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
I expect him to drop my hand like before, but Beckett surprises me by weaving his fingers through mine. Side by side, we walk toward the courthouse and make our way up the steps.
“This is your last chance to back out,” I tell him as we approach the front doors.
Beckett pulls me to a stop. “Peyton, look at me.” When my eyes meet his, he continues. “The only way I’m not walking in there with you is if you tell me you don’t want to, so have you changed your mind?”
I shake my head as I lick my lips. “No.”
His hand squeezes mine. “Then let’s do this.”
He reaches for the door handle, and we step inside. Somehow Beckett knows exactly where to go. It almost feels like I’m doing this for him and not the other way around. When the lady behind the desk asks what she can do for us, he tells her that he scheduled an appointment for us, catching me off guard.
An appointment?
I hadn’t even thought to call ahead.
Only when she asks for our driver’s licenses and birth certificates does he let go of my hand. Filling out the paperwork goes by in a blur, and we are told to wait our turn.
“Good to see you both,” Mr. Piper says as we turn around to find a seat.
