“Thank you.” Evie smiled.
I followed her out of the car and up
the stairs.
“This will only take a few minutes.” She turned on the light and I waited by the front door while she slammed drawers in the bedroom.
“Need help?” I called from the hallway.
“No, I’ve got it.”
I looked around me. There were more pillows on the couch than I had ever seen. Was she part-cat? Pillows, blanket, books scattered everywhere. There was a row of pictures on a table behind the couch. I picked up the first in line. Evie was surrounded by three children.
I studied the grin on her face. The genuine happiness in her eyes. There were more pictures of the kids next to that one. Only, they were each babies in the other shots. She held them against her chest. The expression was different. Maternal and loving. I closed my eyes and it was as if a flash of electricity had snapped through my veins. I could see her holding our baby. My baby. She looked at him with that same kind of love. With a love so strong it could heal. It could protect. It could bring me to my knees. I shook my head. I placed the photo down. Damn. I was drunk.
I cleared my throat. “We need to go.”
“Ok, I think I have enough for a proper elopement,” she announced.
She appeared at the end of the hallway. I could make out her curvy silhouette, but that was about it. She hauled the bag over her shoulder and walked into the foyer. She had changed out of her waitress clothes. She was wearing a pair of leggings, boots, and a long soft sweater. I thought about pulling her against me and drinking in her lips, but we didn’t have time for detours. We needed to make it to the airport.
“I don’t know that there’s anything proper about it.” I chuckled. “But you look cute.”
“Really?” She blushed. “Cute enough to create a scandal?” she teased.
I’d never been worried about how something looked. How it played to the media. How it could hurt or help the Hartwell name. I left that up to my parents. As soon as the press heard about my marriage to Evie, there would be a firestorm of paparazzi. I hadn’t prepared her for that part of our arrangement.
“You and your nieces and nephew?” I asked, tapping the table.
“They’re cute, aren’t they?” She paused in front of them.
“If you like kids.” I pulled the front door open.
“I do like kids,” she reminded me. “Very much. Enough to go along with this insane plan of yours. That’s how much I like kids.”
“Then I’m glad you’re the one having mine.”
“Is there anything else I need before we leave?” she asked.
I tapped on the link I had googled about marriage licenses in North Carolina. “Actually, do you have your birth certificate?”
She nodded. “I can get it. It’s in a safe in my closet. I’ll be right back. Anything else?”
“No. That’s it.”
A few seconds later Evie returned. She folded the paper in half and slid it into her purse.
“Let’s do this. Come on, let’s go.” I held the door and we walked outside.
10
Evie
I ducked inside the car, looking up at the townhouse before we drove in the direction of the airport. All I could think about was how Frannie was going to kill me. How would I explain to the kids what I had done?
Kids, Aunt Evie decided to get married so I could finally have a baby? No. That didn’t seem like an appropriate kid discussion. And my parents? They were going to be furious we hadn’t planned an elaborate Italian catholic wedding. My dad would never forgive Jeremy for not asking his permission. I could hear it now. And then a baby within months? They were going to think I got pregnant before we were married. That was worse in their eyes than in vitro. Shit. What was I doing?
“I did a quick Google search while you were packing, and I booked us a spot tonight on the way to New York. We can be married in less than two hours from now.”