Page 46 of Tart
Bishop smiled and winked at me, clearly enjoying the story she was telling about the antics I used to participate in at the elementary school. He was unknown to everyone in this town still, but I was not. I was maybe a little too well-known, and it was showing.
My eyes drifted to the tripod, where Brady set up his iPad to record the ceremony for my parents and Athena. While we wereeloping, he insisted we needed a video of the ceremony so our families could eventually see it. I wasn’t going to argue with him. If nothing else, it would lend credence to the union upon the return of my parental unit.
“So now, I ask, Bishop Halla is there any legal reason why you cannot be married to this woman?” Lucy asked, motioning at me.
“Absolutely not,” he said, his smile firmly in place.
She asked me the same question, and I shook my head, squeaking out a no at the last moment, too lost in the way his eyes were turning a dark forest green as the sun set lower in the sky. Tonight was the very definition of a romantic wedding in my book, real or not.
Once the legal questions were out of the way, Lucy launched into all the do you and I do’s that you expect to say at a simple civil ceremony. We promised to have and to hold from this day forward, to love, cherish, and honor all the days of our lives as we slipped those wedding bands on each other’s fingers. He held my gaze the entire ceremony, mine probably petrified in the face of what we were doing. He kept me calm and balanced by holding my forearms, so I didn’t have to have my crutches with me the whole time.
“With the power vested in me by the state of Minnesota and the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, I hereby pronounce you man and wife. Bishop, you may kiss your bride.”
It was honestly the most surreal thing when I remembered that I was now the official wifeandthe bride about to be kissed.
“It would be my pleasure,” he whispered, taking me in his arms and planting a kiss on my lips that was more rated R than PG-13. When he set me back on my feet, Haylee was clapping with her hands near her chin and tears in her eyes. I forced myself not to meet her eyes, or I’d be crying right along with her. I figured my cheeks had to be the color of tomatoes, which made me glad the sun had set, and the sky was filling with stars.
“Congratulations, you two,” Lucy said, hugging us both. “Let’s get that marriage license signed so you can enjoy your wedding night!”
I took my crutches from Brady, and Bishop helped me to the table where we had the official license ready to be signed by all. Once it was finished, we smiled for the camera, first with Lucy, then Brady and Haylee. Finally, Haylee insisted we have some pictures alone with the rising moon over the lake as our backdrop. Bishop snuck in a picture of him planting a kiss on my lips, taking me by surprise at the last minute. I swatted at him, laughter filling the yard and my heart.
Something told me marriage to Bishop Halla, whether real or fake, would be filled with more laughter than tears.
“THAT WAS A DAY, HUH?” he asked, standing in the doorway of the second bedroom.
I was brushing out my hair and stopped with my brush midway through the locks. “It sure was,” I agreed, offering him a smile. “If I didn’t say thank you, I should have.”
He stepped into the room and took the hairbrush from my hand, finishing the job for me. My moan was soft as he stroked the hair into long, straight lines. It felt so good to let someone else take care of me, even if it was something as simple as brushing my hair. “You don’t have to thank me, but you did, multiple times. I care about you, Amber, for real. That’s not the fake marriage talking.”
I smiled, and my heart was suddenly lighter to hear his words. “I care about you too, Bishop. I just don’t want you to get any backlash for this. I’m worried about that. Like really worried.”
He set the hairbrush down and turned me to face him. “I won’t. We’re together now, just relax, okay?”
“Okay,” I took a deep breath and let it out. “I guess I’m just trying to put everything straight in my mind. It’s hard to do that when you feel like a terrible person.”
He knelt and grasped my chin gently. “You aren’t a terrible person. We aren’t terrible people. I prefer to think of this as doing things backward.”
“Doing things backward?” I asked, tipping my head to the side.
“First comes marriage, then comes love, then comes a baby in the baby carriage,” he sang, laughter in his voice. “We got married first, but my little tart, I still want to date you. I have since that first day you ran over me with a cart full of cupcakes.”
I swatted at him with laughter on my lips. “I didn’t run over you. I bumped into you slightly because you were in the way.”
He held up his hands. “Okay, since you bumped into me slightly with a cart full of cupcakes. When I turned around and locked eyes with you, I’ll admit, I was a goner. When you cowered in that van, and I couldn’t do anything to help you, I was instantly gutted. My soul kept telling me I had to get to know you. That’s why I finally showed up at the bakery. I just had to see you again. If only I’d known that you lived next door.”
I broke eye contact with him and stared at the floor rather than his face. “I was equally as taken, but the difference is, I know a guy like you doesn’t end up with a girl like me.”
“To begin with, never say that again. I don’t play leagues. I never have, and I won’t start now. Second, what do you mean by a girl like you?” he asked in confusion.
“No chest, no hips, a bum leg, and no hope of ever being able to keep up with you, at least recreationally speaking.”
“Recreationally speaking.”
I nodded with exaggeration, so he understood how important it was. “Hiking, biking, tennis, volleyball. Those are all out for me. Hell, even walking is out for me right now.”
“There are plenty of other things you can do recreationally speaking while sitting down.”
“Name them,” I said, rolling my eyes.
