Page 76 of Bottle Shock
My attention snaps toward him.We do?I know we briefly discussed rings, but in the rush to get this taken care of, I completely forgot about them.
He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. My mouth parts in shock as he opens it to reveal an antique-style ring—art deco, with a deep blue stone that shines even in the dull courthouse light. The band is gold, delicate, with tiny engravings along the sides. It’s understated but stunning.
“Gavin…” Words fail me. I didn’t even know what my dream ring was—what it looked like—until I saw the one he chose.
He shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “You deserve something beautiful.”
Heat stings behind my eyes. He went out of his way to get that ring. It’s not generic—some popular style found in every jewelry store. In fact, I’ve never seen one like it before.
The judge motions with her hands. “Go ahead.”
Gavin takes my hand and slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly, the cool metal warming instantly against my skin.
My voice shakes as I momentarily break character. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
He grins faintly. “I wanted to surprise you.”
The judge turns to me. “Scotland, do you have one for him?”
I go still, startled, but Gavin is already a step ahead—pulling a simple band from the same box. Brushed silver, clean lines. He’s thought of everything.
I take it from him, trying to ignore how weighted and significant it feels to slide a ring onto Gavin’s hand.
The judge gives us both a kind look. “By the authority vested in me by the state of Washington, I pronounce you husband and wife.” Her smile deepens. “You may kiss your bride.”
Gavin’s hand comes up, brushing a loose strand of hair from my cheek before he slips it beneath the edge of my veil, his palm cupping the back of my head.
He leans in, close enough that I can feel the ghost of his breath before his lips touch mine. The kiss is featherlight—unhurried, reverent. Unlike the kiss we practiced, this one is gentle, like he’s afraid I might break. My hands find his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt just above his heart, needing something solid to hold on to.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, and neither of us moves, our breaths mingling in a shared exhale.All I can hear is the rush of blood in my ears, the wild, uneven beat of my own heart.
Gavin’s thumb draws a slow circle at the nape of my neck before he lets his hand fall away. The absence of his touch leaves a chill in its place.
“Congratulations,” the judge says, signing the last page of our license. “You’re officially married.”
CHAPTER 21
Scottie
JOINT ACCOUNT
“Ithink there’s one more,” I call out to Gavin from inside the pool house.
It’s move-in day.
After the wedding, we both needed some time apart to recover. The silence on the drive back to Red Mountain was palpable. I might’ve gone the entire way without speaking if Gavin hadn’t suggested stopping in North Bend for food. He didn’t make a big deal of it, but I knew what he was doing. Making sure I ate. Making sure I was okay.
When we finally pulled up to my parents’ condo, he killed the engine and sat there for a beat, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. It was as if we both expected the other to say something—to acknowledge what we’d just done—but neither of us could find the right words. So I grabbed my bag, mumbled something about needing sleep, and that was that.
Now, a few days later, I’m going forward with the plan and moving into the pool house.
My parents bought the story that Gavin was looking to rent it out. It didn’t exactly hold up under scrutiny, but they were more than relieved to get their living room back—andeven happier I wasn’t packing up to leave town—that they didn’t question it.
Elyse wasn’t as easy to convince as I’d expected. Her eyes stayed narrowed on me as I explained that Gavin had finally worn me down and that I’d be staying in the pool house for now. She didn’t argue, but I could tell she wasn’t entirely buying it.As much as I want to tell her the truth, another part of me wants to protect it—protectus. It’ll make things easier later, when Gavin meets someone else. Maybe then I’ll be spared the pitying looks for falling for a man in a marriage that was never supposed to mean anything.
“Last one,” Gavin says, stepping inside with my biggest suitcase slung in one hand. He sets it down by the bed with a soft thud, then straightens, brushing his palms on his jeans.
“Thanks,” I say, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You really didn’t have to carry all of them.”
