Page 93 of My UnTrue Love
“Well, coyotes can have wives, right?” Riding high on endorphins and hard-won boldness, Clementine said the words before she even stopped to consider them. Why waste time building the small steps of romantic infrastructure, when you could skip right to the finished construction?
Dinah gasped. “Don’t tell me he proposed!”
Bill watched her, wide-eyed, but Clem was too caught up to stop, now. She didn’twantto stop. Her plan to gently nudge him into romance went flying out the window and she was freefalling into assertive, lovesick chaos.
“Actually, I proposed.” She declared, because she kind ofwas,if you ignored the fact Bill didn’t really have the option of saying no. “And now we’re getting married.”
Chapter Nineteen
“All doors that keep the cowboy safe,
Must fall before his bride.
He must need that darling waif,
And choose no more to hide.”
Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”
“I really am sorry about this.” Clementine repeated for the hundredth time. “I feel just awful.”
“Don’t think nothin’ of it, darlin’. No harm done.”
“You’re really not angry?”
“‘Course not. I love weddings.”
“I now pronounce you man and wife.” Tony Beaver apparently took Clem’s apology and Bill’s cheery response as their vows. He slapped his hymnal closed, signaling the end of their three-minute ceremony. “You may kiss the bride. Thank you for choosing Six White Horse-Drawn Carriages for all your matrimonial needs. Standard gratuity is eighteen percent.”
Bill grinned himself a huge grin.
One of the many joys of living in Red River Valley was the ability to impulsively get married at 11:06 in the morning. No blood tests. No planning. No waiting. The city’s relaxed matrimonial rules were a godsend for coyotes eager to steal themselves a mate.
“Holy moly.” Clem whispered, as if the full ramifications of impromptu wedded bliss just hit her. “Oh Bill! I amsosorry!This is all my fault. Dinah was talking right over me, like she always does, and I gottooassertive.”
“No need to get het up. It all worked out just fine.”
She ignored his jovial reassurance. “I only meant to push you some! Not bludgeon you to the altar! You should have stopped me.”
“Why would I do that?” Bill couldn’t have been more pleased with the results of the morning.
“I’ve always been too ambitious, when I want something.” She continued, apologetically. “And I was kind of still buzzed from the orgasm. And there were a lot of maybe-not-entirely rational thoughts in my head about infrastructure…”
He bent his head to brush his lips against Clem’s, sealing their new bond and stopping her flood of remorseful, confusing words. She gasped, her ruby lips opening beneath his, like it was instinctive to kiss him back.
Billlovedthat.
The kiss wasn’t just for the sake of enjoyment, though. It was also a formality to finalize his claim. At the press of her lips, he felt the magic of the wedding ceremony seal tight, ensuring he was now a married man. Clem was too frazzled for him to deepen the kiss the way he wanted to, but that was okay. They had plenty of time. Til’ death do they part.
Besides, they were in a church and he was gonna be seemly. It was really a converted warehouse in the Recording District. It was decorated tolooklike a church, though, with a plywood altar and arrangements of slightly-dusty fake flowers. That was close enough to a solemn venue, so Bill controlled thedesire pumping through him. He wanted things to be nice for Clem. As nice as he could make them, anyhow.
Clementine deserved a better wedding day, with her family, and a big cake, and her one-and-only True Love reciting formal vows beside her. Something like the fancy reception that duchess in Nottingham had been planning, before the castle blew up. Bill had been a hostage at the time, but even he knew that had been a real memorable shindig.
How many opportunities would Bill get to legally wed his dream-girl, though? He couldn’t give up his chance. Couldn’t give upClem. It was wrong, but still he’d pushed ahead and stole some other man’s happily ever after.
He’d married Clementine Miner.
Bill’s uncharacteristic twinge of conscience was drowned out by the coyote’s triumphant howls inside of him. He’d gone all or nothin’ and come out on top. Dark, wild satisfaction filled him. Clem was legally his.
