Page 106 of The Billionaire's Teacher

“You knew them longer. And they aren’t older. It doesn’t bother me, don’t let it bother you. At least we got Tristan to get over himself.”

“True. I think it was your ceviche that did that, honestly.”

I grinned. I’d been pleased with the fresh fish at the supermarket near Jenna’s house. I’d worried some about that—living on an island, I had high standards when it came to seafood. “That did turn out well.”

“What do you say we get the pastor to finish up the counseling tomorrow? Then we can nail down a date.”

“I’m for that.” I pulled my toes out of the sand and brushed them off before I stood and climbed back to my deck. I brushed my feet off on the mat before walking inside and sitting on the sofa. “Can’t we just get married when you come down to look over the island?”

“On Thursday?”

“Why not?”

Wes was quiet. I could hear him breathing, but he didn’t speak.

A worm of worry wriggled through me. “Unless…are you having second thoughts?”

I wouldn’t blame him if he was. This whole thing had moved incredibly fast. We’d known each other three months. And there was absolutely that camp of people who harped on the “when you know, you know” train. On the flip side, friendship was a necessary foundation to any marriage. I thought we had one. Maybe he wasn’t there yet.

“No.” His answer was fast. “No, it’s not that. I don’t know how anyone could get to the island.”

Ah. “I didn’t think about that. I don’t have anyone here who would be slighted if they weren’t invited. I was picturing you, me, a minister, the beach.”

“Oh. Hmm.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve had that same sort of picture. I didn’t think…”

“We could have a party when we get back home. Honestly, you could let your mom run with that. Set it up however she wanted.”

Wes laughed. “You’re devious. But that would assuage her feelings, for sure. Maybe if I told her to involve the girls.”

“Absolutely.” I held my breath. I wanted this more now that I’d given voice to the idea. I couldn’t imagine living in Virginia near Wes and waiting another six months or a year for a wedding. I would do it, if that was what he wanted, but it would be torture.

“Let me call Mom. You have a pastor there who would do it?”

“I think so. Especially if I get him in touch with yours to chat about the counseling.” I was a pretty regular attender at our local church. Unless I was on a job. I was reasonably sure he’d be happy to do it. “If you stopped here on your way, we could take care of the license. That has to be done in the city, not my little town. I can meet you there.”

“Why do you know that?” He chuckled.

“Well, first, because I looked it up. But also because I remembered needing to do it before.”

“Right. I forgot.”

“Does it bother you?”

“No. I told you that. Without him, without your life before now, you wouldn’t be the woman I love.”

I closed my eyes. I believed he meant it. I also had a feeling that we’d end up talking over, around, and through Luca for the rest of our lives. It was okay. I was committed to making things work with Wes. And he was with me. “I love you too.”

“Let’s do it. I’ll bring a suit. No tux. No tie. I’m firm on that.”

I laughed. “No shoes. I’m firm on that.”

“Okay. Can we do Wednesday? Then we can fly to the island together Thursday.”

My heart sped up as the reality crashed down. Wednesday. Less than a week. I was marrying Wes in less than a week. I wiped my sweaty hands on my shorts. “Wednesday it is.”

“I should call my mom, make sure I’m not ticking her off.”

“If she objects—really hates it—we can figure something else out.” I didn’t want to, but I also didn’t want to cause problems between Wes and his family. Marriage was hard enough without adding in-laws that disliked you into the mix.

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