The Convenient Wife

“I don’t know, crazy probably.” Giggling, I follow him out the door.

“Exactly. People actually threw trash at the first man to use one.” Stopping short, he turns and faces me, reaching his arm out to hold my wrist. “We’re all a little crazy, Starla, it’s what we do with it that will leave a legacy behind us. So, let’s go be crazy, screw what’s normal, let’s create our own umbrella.” Bolt takes my hand and leads me to the town car waiting out front of my building.

I let him guide me as my mind starts to dive into his words. I like what he said, it feels real, it feels like he knows what he’s talking about. Life is full of risk, but you’d never know what it means to live if you don’t do something wild, something crazy, something dangerous once in a while.

How else can you appreciate what you have or what you lost?

The driver meets us at the back and opens the trunk, taking my bag from Bolt and putting it inside. Opening my door, Bolt guides me inside by placing his hand on the small of my back.

Slipping into the car, I rest my hands in my lap and look out the window. His large body jostles the car as he climbs in next to me. Without hesitation, he takes my hand in his and lifts it to his mouth, kissing the back of my palm.

Inhaling a sharp breath, I sit in shock, confused and surprised all at once. I didn’t expect it. I know we’re supposed to be acting, I know we’re supposed to pretend like we’re two lovesick puppies.

Except what I feel when he does that isn’t pretend.

The feel of his lips on my skin causes a rush of tingles to shoot through my body, making me wetter than before. My stomach clenches and the hair on my arms stand straight up. My heart is pounding, jumping around inside my chest like a crazed bird.

It’s taking everything in my power to maintain control and not melt in his hands in the back of this cab. So I smile at him, my lips thin and tight.

Bolt pulls my hand away from his mouth and runs the pad of his thumb across my knuckles. “Louisville International,” he says to the driver. “We’re getting married this weekend.” Giving me a wink, our hidden agenda is written all over his face.

The airport, we’re flying somewhere?

I’ve never been on an airplane, shit, I’ve only left the state once, and that was with my school when I was sixteen.

I want to ask him where he’s taking me, but the driver is watching me in the mirror, and I feel like that would be strange to do. If I’m supposed to become his wife, to anyone looking in from the outside, I should know where we’re going to get married.

The driver’s eyes shift between us in the mirror. “Congratulations. Is it a destination wedding?”

“We’re eloping,” Bolt answers for us, and his smile thickens as he glances down at me. “We just can’t wait anymore.”

“Well that’s wonderful. Marriage is a great thing if you’re willing to put the work in. It’s not always easy, but take it from someone who’s been married for over twenty years, it’s worth all of it.”

Bolt squeezes my hand, pulling it into his lap. “I believe it. I hope we can say the same thing twenty years from now.”

He lies so easily, not once did it seem like he had to think about what he was saying. The story rolled so smoothly off his tongue, like water off a leaf.

The driver turns his attention back to the road. “You two look like you’ll make it. I can see the love between you.”

“That’s because I love her with everything I have.” There isn’t a shred of doubt or hesitation in his voice.

Bolt is believable, he’s confident—he’s so confident, I almost believe him myself.

What the hell am I getting myself into?

6

Bolt

We held hands all the way to the airport. I kissed her wrist, the back of her palm, each finger and knuckle.

It felt right, and I wanted every detail to be perfect, I wanted every recollection of us together to be remembered as two people in love.

Because that’s what we are. . . To everyone else looking in. We are two people who have fallen so madly in love that we ran off to get married despite what people would think.

Paying the driver, I take her bag and attach it to mine. “Are you excited?” I ask her as she peers up at a plane taking off from the runway.

The engine roars so loudly, I can’t hear her answer. “What?”

“Where are we going?” she asks, curling her arms around her ribs, and sinking into herself.

“Have you ever been to the Cape before?”