Page 56 of Stowaway Whirlwind
She nods and rests her palm on her belly. Wyatt hugs her from behind, and they wave to us as Davis turns the truck around and takes the long gravel drive toward the road. I watch in the side mirror as Wyatt scoops Dolly into his arms and carries her like a bride onto the porch. He kisses her as they stepacross the threshold into their house just before they’re out of sight.
Davis
I dragged Goldie out of bed just after dawn with the promise of hot coffee and breakfast tacos on the way to the county courthouse so that we’d be the first in line when the doors opened. Although it wasn’t necessary for Sheriff Gibson to appear when we met with the judge to review our petition, his presence was appreciated, and we left with some semblance of relief that a temporary restraining order had been approved. With any hope, Mrs. Fitzroy will be scared enough by the temporary order and won’t come after us again between now and her trial when, hopefully, she’ll be convicted and out of our lives for good.
I shake hands with Sheriff Gibson as soon as we step out of the courtroom, our relief palpable. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course. I—”
Cradling Lily in one arm, Goldie damn near throws herself at the man, clinging to his neck in a way that makes me want to peel her off him—I don’t like her touching any man that way other than me. Surprisingly, it brings a tear to the bulldozer’s eyes.
“Thank you, thank you so much,” she cries into the shoulder of his uniform. “I’m naming my next baby after you.”
Of course, hearing her saymy next babymakes my dick swell in my jeans and picture my son growing in her belly.
“Well, ain’t that something.” Sheriff clears his throat. “You’re welcome, Marigold.” He pats her back, then darts his eyes to mine with a raised brow, signaling me to pull Goldie away and let her cling to me instead.
Swaying with Goldie, Lily between us, I ask him, “What’s your first name? I don’t think I know it.” He’s been in his position for almost as long as I’ve been alive, and most people simply refer to him asSheriff. I’m sure that’s how he’ll still be referred to long after he retires.
He chuckles. “Ronald.”
I groan and tip Goldie’s head back with a finger under her chin. “You’re gonna make me name my son Ronald or Ronnie?” She winces. To Sheriff, now laughing at our reactions, I say, “Maybe we’ll stick to using it for his middle name.”
He snorts. “Good idea.” With that, he tips his head toward the hall that leads to the opposite side of the building, where we can apply for our marriage license. He waves us off, and I take a deep breath, my heart thumping harder than when we were in front of the judge.
This is it. Just one more step toward binding Goldie and Lily to me for the rest of our lives.
Right before we step into the office, Goldie turns to me, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Are you one hundred percent certain this is what you want, Davis?”
I back her up against the wall beneath the buzzing fluorescent lights. I lift both hands to cup her face and kiss her for so long that I leave her breathless and all but begging for more. “Do I need to take you out into the woods again to prove it? I’m sure Dolly would be willing to babysit. Just say the word, baby, and I’ll be happy to f—”
Goldie flashes me her wide eyes and whisper-hisses, “Davis! Not in front of Lily or…” She darts her attention to the side ata couple approaching the office, hand in hand, on their way to binding the rest of their lives to each other as well.
I kiss her again. Whispering against her lips after pressing her hand to my chest over my heart, I say, “Marigold Lewis, I don’t want to wait a single second more to tie you to me for eternity. We may not have known each other for long, but the second I saw you, touched you, I knew deep down inside that we were fated to be together.”
“Fate. There’s that word again.”
“Fate,” I confirm. “I never believed in fate until you, and there’s no other word to describe the immediateneedto bring you home and take care of you. You and Lily are mine as much as I’m yours. There will never be another Mrs. Freeman for me. Never.”
“Davis.” She breathes out my name in such a way that my heart pounds even harder in my chest.
Struck by insecurity, I say, “Tell me you feel the same way, baby.”
She does. Not with words, yet, but with the soft expression in her eyes and the way she goes up on her tiptoes after sliding her hand up to palm the back of my neck and pulling me down to meet her lips. She’s the one who leaves me breathless when we finally break apart.
“I love you,” she says with a whisper. Then louder. And louder again until we’re both grinning like fools.
Holding her hand, we step into the office and are directed to the left, where there are two empty seats pulled up to a partitioned counter across from a woman who looks like she’d be more at home in the middle of a mosh pit, dressed head to toe in black with various sized chain necklaces draped around her neck. Throughout our application, tears build in her eyes until they slip down her cheeks onto the paperwork.
When the woman—Carolina—slides the signed license across the counter, Goldie lays her hand on top of hers. “Are you ok?”
Carolina’s lower lip trembles. “I’m sorry. My husband. Three months ago. He…” She dabs at her cheeks with a tissue in her free hand, then thumbs through her necklaces to hold one up. Two black wedding bands are looped on a more delicate chain, and understanding dawns.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Goldie whispers, squeezing her hand.
Fear at the thought of Goldie being ripped away from me too soon when we’re still so young makes me lightheaded. Just one day spent on earth without my future wife by my side would be one day too long.
Goldie’s eyes drift to mine afterward, and yeah, I know without a shred of doubt that she feels the same way.
