Like You Love Me (Honey Creek 1)

“Of course.” She beams. “Now, this is Mr. Cates. Mr. Cates, this is the bride and groom.”

Holden shakes his hand. “Thank you for coming, sir. I’m Holden McKenzie.”

“It’s my pleasure. Truly. I spend most of my days making people angry. It’s not often I get to take part in something so special,” Mr. Cates says.

“We’re happy to have you here,” Holden says. He turns to me. “This is my beautiful bride, Sophie.”

I want to roll my eyes or otherwise tease Holden, but now isn’t the time.

“Thank you for coming, Your Honor,” I say.

“Please. You can call me Mr. Cates, or George would even be fine.” He digs into a folder on the bench and pulls out a piece of paper. “If you could show me your identification and sign this paper, we can make things legal.”

The room is eerily quiet as we retrieve the items. Mr. Cates has Haley make a copy of our licenses as we sign our names to a black-and-white piece of paper. My signature isn’t as smooth as it usually is, and I kind of hate the way it loops around on the end. I also don’t love the way I’m obsessing over things like my signature so I don’t concentrate on what’s happening otherwise.

“That will do it,” Mr. Cates says as he takes the photocopies from Haley and gives us back our identification. As we put them away, he places the marriage license and copies back in the folder. “Do you want to walk in to music? Or are we just going to stand in front of the lovely little arch over there?”

Holden looks at me.

“Oh, um, I don’t need to walk in,” I say, feeling my cheeks pinken. “We can just stand up there and get this over with.”

Mr. Cates’s face wrinkles as if he doesn’t understand.

“I just can’t wait to be his wife,” I say as enthusiastically as I can. “Can’t wait. So excited.”

Holden’s snort is stifled, but not enough for me to miss it. I turn to face Haley, but as I do, I whisper to him under my breath. “Stop it,” I say without moving my lips.

He begins to laugh but covers it with a cough.

“All right. Well, let’s head over to the flowers, then, and get started,” Mr. Cates says.

Haley thrusts a bouquet of roses the same color as the ones on the arch into my hands. “I know. I didn’t have to do this either, but I did it, so here.”

My hand shakes a bit as I take the flowers from my friend. “You are truly the best.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

I inhale a deep, rose-scented breath before turning around. When I do, my gaze lands on Holden. He’s standing at the arch with Mr. Cates. A quiet conversation takes place between the two of them. Holden listens with rapt attention as the judge moves his hands through the air to drive home his point.

“I can’t believe Liv let you come without her,” Haley says as she brushes a piece of lint off my shirt. “She’s not my sister, but I would kill Neely if she married Dane without me.”

Suddenly, a pang of emotion floods through me as I wish I had let my sister come. It might not be a real wedding, but it feels wrong without her here. My stomach tosses with unease as I wish she were standing beside me.

“Are you ready?” Mr. Cates’s question seems to fill the room.

Everyone looks at me. I force a swallow.

“I am.” I turn to face Haley once more. “Thank you again. For everything.”

She shakes her head. “No worries. Now go. Marry your man.”

My smile is weak as I turn toward Holden. His brows furrow as I get closer, and his eyes search mine.

I know what he’s thinking—that I want to bail. And I know what he’ll do—call this off.

“Mr. Cates—” Holden begins, but I interject before he can go any further.

“Ready to make me yours?” I ask.

His head turns slowly. A puzzled yet amused look is painted on his handsome face. “Absolutely.”

I stand shoulder to shoulder with Holden and face Mr. Cates. His tanned face is lined with years of experience, and that somehow helps to settle me down.

The judge starts off by giving a little speech about happiness and how it’s defined. I try to focus on what he’s saying but find my attention drifting to the man beside me.

Holden stands tall, shoulders back, and concentrates on the words being spoken. His face is completely sober, as if he’s taking this with all due seriousness. The only hint that he’s a little antsy is the way his chest rises and falls more quickly than usual.

I gaze up at him, taking in the hard line of his jaw. It’s sturdy and durable, and something tells me that this is the kind of man he is altogether. Dependable. Studious. Determined. The kind of man who makes me proud to stand beside him, even if the entire thing is a facade.