Grayson's Vow (31)
I exhaled even as I felt my cheeks flush at the mention of my list. “We’re even, then?”
He gave me a slight smile. “Even. Especially considering you’re paying me back for it today.” He turned his face to me and gave me a devilish smile that made my heart stutter in my chest. But then it gentled and I saw he was making a joke. “Ready to pledge forever? Or at least twelve months?” he asked, eyeing me sideways.
I gave a nervous laugh. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I figure. This isn’t exactly how I pictured my wedding day.”
“No? Pictured the big white dress and all the crème de la crème of society in attendance?” His eyes lingered on me for a second.
It was true. When I’d been engaged to Cooper, that had been what I’d envisioned for my wedding, mostly because that was what my father and Cooper had planned. But that had never been my dream. I had just been trying so hard to please them both.
I smiled, but it felt sad on my own lips. “I suppose.” I wasn’t going to go into all that with Grayson, especially not right now. His eyes searched my face for a few quick moments, but then he focused back on the road.
The mood between us was still slightly tense after that and neither of us spoke, each preoccupied with our own thoughts. Although Grayson had said I was forgiven about the wine, he still seemed a little tense, if the tick in his jaw each time he looked at me was any indication. Ah well, after today, we’d avoid each other. I’d offered my apologies and he’d accepted. If he still harbored a general hostility, it made no difference to me whatsoever. I bit down on my lip until it hurt, trying to distract myself from any thought at all. I didn’t want to consider what I was really doing.
When we arrived at the Napa County Clerk’s Office a few minutes later, the sky suddenly opened up and started pouring rain. Grayson chuckled. “The fates are against us.”
I gave a small laugh too. “Apparently. Although I’ve heard that rain is good luck on a wedding day.”
“Only people who get rain on their wedding day say that to make themselves feel lucky. We’re going to have to make a run for it.”
“Okay. On the count of three,” I said, cracking the truck door. We both jumped out, me squealing as we ran for the building. He grabbed my hand halfway between the car and the office, and his deep laughter rose above the pounding sound of the downpour. For a blink of time, we were just a boy and a girl, running and laughing in the rain on our wedding day. The moment was sudden, dreamlike, but when we burst into the lobby, we both blinked at each other and I knew he’d felt it too. The spell ended abruptly as we looked around at people now watching us. There were two other couples obviously there to get married, both holding hands, both looking serene, both looking like it was the happiest day of their lives. It made me intensely aware of what we were about to do. By the look on Grayson’s face, he was thinking the same thing.
“Ready?” he asked.
No, no, no. “Yes.”
I walked through the next hour as if I existed outside my own body. I tried not to consider the reality of the situation. I pictured the faces of the people at the drop-in center, the small house I’d get settled in once I left Hawthorn Vineyard, anything to keep my focus on what this day was ultimately about. We obtained the marriage license and waited in line to say our vows. Grayson’s expression was distant and slightly cold. I didn’t ask what he was thinking though. My own emotions were difficult enough to manage, so I really didn’t need to add his to the mix. He’d be no support to me—he wasn’t even trying to make this easier. Although, really, what did I expect him to do? The lightness of the moment when we had been running in the rain was long gone, replaced now by silence and discomfort.
Finally, a court employee stood in as our witness, and I recited my vows and promised to love, honor, and cherish Grayson Hawthorn all the days of my life. I felt a snake of fear slither down my spine as I committed the sacrilege of pledging love and devotion to a man I had no intention of loving or devoting myself to. It was a lie, a farce of something sacred. I’d never been a particularly religious person, but I had to wonder if we’d both be punished somehow for this mockery.
He recited his vows to me, his voice steady, his manner removed. I watched him, my chest aching at the serious expression on his handsome face. When the marriage commissioner asked if we had rings to exchange, Grayson reached into his pocket and brought out a beautiful gold ring with an opal in the center surrounded by diamonds. I gasped as he slid it on my finger. I tried to catch his eye, but he looked at it for several seconds on my hand and then raised his eyes to the man performing our ceremony. I stared down at the beautiful, antique-looking piece of jewelry, a lump forming in my throat for his thoughtfulness at remembering to bring a ring. I hadn’t even thought of it myself.
“You may kiss your bride.”
Grayson leaned forward and gave me a quick peck on my mouth. At the feel of his lips brushing across mine, the hysteria I’d kept at bay since I’d woken that morning suddenly bubbled up my chest, and I snorted out a barely contained laugh. I pretended a small cough, my eyes widening at my body’s betrayal. His kiss reminded me of one my old, crotchety uncle Colburn would give. Uncle Colburn smelled like mothballs. Hilarity and insanity warred inside for control. I let out another small snort and again tried to cover it with a cough.