I’d gone fucking mad. That was the only explanation for agreeing to this hair-brained scheme. Did I really want to keep Stark from being my neighbor bad enough to marry the daughter of my best friend, who I inappropriately touched when she was eighteen and still fantasized about? Jesus, I was going to hell for sure.
The fact that Frank agreed to it was equally as crazy. I supposed it showed just how desperate we all were. Even Brooke was sacrificing whatever social life she had to play Mrs. Valentine. Well, not play my wife, because while we’d be married, we had to keep the whole thing a secret. She worked for me, for one. Two, I didn’t need the backlash that would come from marrying a girl nearly half my age. I wasn’t going to run for mayor again, but I didn’t need the city council or others to dismiss my work until I left office because they thought I was a middle-aged cliché.
By the next morning, I’d talked myself out of this plan, only to be back in it when Brooke and Frank showed up at my place, ready to drive to Watley county. As it turned out, it was a good place for a quick marriage, as there was no waiting period from the time of obtaining a marriage license to getting married.
I was concerned about having a judge marry us, as it could get out that I was the mayor of Salvation. Brooke found a minister from a small country church who was willing to marry us. That’s how I ended up standing at the altar of the tiny church that looked like it came out of a Little House on the Prairie episode with Brooke and her father, getting married for a second time.
As the minister went through the script, I couldn’t help but wonder where my life had gone so off the rails. I’d married a woman I’d thought I’d spend my life with, who ended up walking away because I wasn’t enough for her. Now I was getting married to my best friend’s daughter so I could save their farm and keep Stark out of my business. If this was written in a book, no one would buy it, and yet, here I was.
The worst part of all this was the fact that I might be an old man standing next to a too-young woman, but my masculine hormones didn’t give a shit. The minute I saw Brooke in her lovely ivory-colored dress that highlighted her curves, the man in me imagined pushing the sleeves of that dress down, and it pooling at her feet. Her blonde hair was done up in a soft updo that my fingers longed to pull the pins from and run through.
As she stood next to me, her scent, a mixture of sunshine and jasmine, filled my senses. I was well and truly fucked.
“Do you, Maurice Valentine, take this woman, Brooke Campbell, to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the minister asked. I was making a vow to love and honor until death did we part. I felt like a fucking fake. This was all wrong. She deserved better than a middle-aged man and fake vows. I’d have to do what I could to make her as comfortable as possible in my home.
“I do.” My stomach rolled over, and I felt sick about what I was having her do.
“Do you, Brooke Campbell, take this man, Maurice Valentine, to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the minister asked her.
She looked up at me with those beautiful, round, blue eyes. In them, I saw trust and admiration that I didn’t deserve. “I do.” She smiled, and my heart lurched in my chest.
Her father gave her her mother’s ring to wear, which seemed wrong on so many levels. They both loved Laura so much. This fake marriage sullied the ring. I opted not to wear one, and I had concerns about Brooke wearing one once we returned to Salvation.
“It’s just for the image,” she’d said. “I won’t wear it to work.”
As the ceremony finished, the minister said, “You may kiss the bride.”
I looked down at her, remembering the last time I tried to kiss her on the cheek. It didn’t seem likely that she’d pull the same stunt this time. Not with her father watching. A part of me was disappointed about that, which only highlighted how fucked up this whole thing was.
I leaned forward, kissing her on the cheek.
“Congratulations,” her father said, shaking my hand.
I tried to smile so that the minister didn’t get a whiff of how fake all this was. I just made vows I didn’t mean in a church, giving me yet another reason I was destined to go to hell.
We drove together back to Salvation. Brooke and her father chatted while I focused on the road, feeling unsettled by all this. Was what I was about to do a crime? Would Aunt Adele be disappointed in me? Yes, of course she would.
“You okay over there?” Frank asked from the back seat of my car.
“Just being reflective.”
“You thinking back to your last wedding? That was a big ta-do.”
Next to me, Brooke flinched. Under normal circumstances, talking about your first wife with the second one on your wedding day didn’t seem couth.
“No.”
“Having second thoughts?” Brooke asked.
I glanced at her and then back to the road. “A little late for that now.” After it was out, I realized it was a mean thing to say. “No. No second thoughts,” I lied.
“What happens next?” Frank asked.
“We’ll stop by Jeannette’s office. She’ll have the paperwork for us. It will be another day or so before we get the money…half the money, anyway.”
“Half?” Brooke asked.
“Yes, but it will be enough,” I said, taking the exit off the highway to drive into Salvation.