Big Man's Bride (Big Men Small Towns 1)

The sound of more tires on gravel draws me to the front door. It’s Ally, pulling up in a beat-up car, alone. She gets out, and my breath stills in my chest.

My bride-to-be looks amazing. Elegant. Her dress is simple, flowing and long in a pale blue that nearly matches the sky. It sets off her hair and skin and eyes, and … she’s incredibly beautiful.

The flush on her face is obvious when she sees me walking up to her car. “Hi.”

“Hey,” I say, holding out my hand to help her step over some loose boards strewn in the front yard. “You didn’t bring anyone with you? I thought you might have brought a friend, or your grandfather. I wouldn’t have minded.”

She blushes a little deeper, and I’m caught gazing at the way her skin looks against the cool blue of her dress. “No.” Ally can’t entirely meet my eyes. We walk around to the side door in silence. When we step inside, she turns to me. “I don’t plan on telling anyone that I was ever married. I’m not backing out, Caleb. I’m in. But I don’t want anyone in my life to know about this. I don’t see the point.”

I smile at that. Definitely, I picked the right person for the job. My family is famous, and most women, on realizing who I am and what kind of connections I have, are suddenly very interested in attaching their name to mine and using me for the riches that they suppose that I have. It’s refreshing to see someone who actively wants to get as far away from that as possible.

Inside, I introduce her to my lawyer, who starts helping her look through the paperwork that outlines the terms we agreed to yesterday. One month, the ownership of the house, and a hefty sum of money once we divorce. That amount of money will be a drop in the bucket if this plan works and I get my parents to sign over my full inheritance.

Even if they don’t, I still have plenty of money. I’ve worked hard, splintering off my wing of the family business into specializing in restoring old homes for luxury resale. I’m very good at it, and that’s why I was so attracted to this house. The bones are amazing, and I want to preserve it in a way that both honors it and can take it into a modern future. But I’ll make sure that Ally has enough money to do that herself.

“All good?” I ask her as she signs the documents.

“Yeah,” she says. “It’s all there. Thank you.”

“Of course.” I scribble my signature right next to hers, my arm brushing against hers as I do. The sparks zing between us, just like I knew that they would. She covers her gasp, but not well enough for me to miss it.

“Ready to do this?”

There’s a nervous smile on her face that reflects the sudden nerves in my gut. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

I take her hand and lead her out onto the back porch where Trevor and the justice of the peace are waiting. Trevor’s mouth falls open almost comically, and it’s the most satisfying thing I’ve ever seen. He can’t stop staring until I introduce him, and then he’s staring still. “This is Trevor, my best friend and he’ll be our witness.”

Ally shakes his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He meets my eyes over her head, utterly stunned. There’s no way that he expected my last-minute bride would be so beautiful.

A click! sounds and Ally startles. “There’s going to be pictures?”

“My family will want to see them,” I say. There’s a twinge of guilt in my chest for the way she’ll be exposed because of who I am, but this is part of the deal. We have to convince my family, and that means we need photographs.

I guide Ally to the justice of the peace. “Last chance to escape,” I say softly.

She shakes her head. “I’m in.”

And we get married. It’s very simple, no frills. We repeat the classic vows that everyone’s heard a thousand times. But it feels different when you’re saying them out loud. Especially knowing that this isn’t going to last the way that the vows are meant to. But I say them, squeezing Ally’s hands as I do so. And I take the ring from Trevor and slip it onto her finger. Miraculously, it’s a pretty good fit. Not perfect, but good.

Ally slips the ring onto my finger, and then it’s done. The justice of the peace declares us man and wife, and grins as he tells me that I can kiss her. I don’t wait for her permission, smiling as I lean down to capture her lips with mine.

Just like yesterday, it’s like lighting a match and holding it to flash paper. I have to fight to keep myself appropriate in front of these people and the camera. It’s not easy. Ally is my wife, and that deep, feral part of me wants to drag her upstairs and show her how true that is. But there will be time for that later.