Knot So Lucky (Destination Love, #1)(21)

I can feel Eleanor looking at me, so I meet her eyes and smile, reassuring her before we both look back and nod. There’s no turning back now.

But Judge Reynolds is staring us down, his eyes volleying between us before zeroing in on me again.

“Lying to a judge, even in chambers, can be considered perjury. I offer this because blackout would indicate—say, if I had video of the two of you—that you would be so drunk you couldn’t stand or speak, let alone say I do.”

He pauses like he’s waiting for one of us to come clean. I glance over at Eleanor, and she’s sitting there like a gangster, riding and probably dying on the inside but still holding strong with an incredibly unnerved demeanor.

If I ever hit hard times and rob a casino, I’m doing it with her. She’s my Ocean’s Eleven…TJ would’ve already caved.

I cross my arms just as Josh begins to speak. Except the judge holds up a hand, halting him, as he keeps my gaze.

“Or maybe Crew here has become too comfortable telling lies.”

“Say what?” Eleanor mutters under her breath, her eyebrows hitting the ceiling.

No shit. My face swings over my shoulder as Josh steps forward.

“I apologize, Judge Reynolds, but is there an issue? I don’t understand why my client is being impugned—”

“Well, Mr. Maroney, you have two problems. Let’s start with the first one. After reviewing these files—” Reynolds breathes out, tapping the paperwork. “—and after doing a bit of research…” He reaches for his cell phone and swipes it open before turning it around, showing a video cued.

“What the—” falls from my lips before Eleanor cuts me off.

“Oh my god. Is that my fucking Instagram?”

Josh coughs, so she looks at him and shrugs, answering the shut the fuck up on his face.

“What? Excuse my French now. But that’s my private Instagram.” She turns back to Judge Reynolds. “It shouldn’t count.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What the fuck shouldn’t count? Oh shit, this is what he meant by video.

“It’s not private if it’s public, young lady,” the judge snarks before touching the Play button.

I whip my face to hers as Josh speaks under his breath, but drunk cheers from the phone fill the room.

“What shouldn’t count? What’s on there?”

I glare at him. “You didn’t fucking look for anything?”

“You said there wasn’t anything to see.”

“I said I wasn’t sure.”

Eleanor doesn’t add anything because she’s already leaning forward, slightly cringing, taking in the screen. So I do the same.

Why does this feel like the beginning of the end?

Jesus, we sound as smashed as we look. Which is bad for present-day us because we only look a smashed five on a scale of one through ten. We’re in front of the chapel, TJ in that fucking Elvis jumpsuit and Millie holding up what looks like plastic bouquets. Everyone is howling and shouting because Eleanor’s legs are wrapped around my waist as we kiss like we need each other for actual fucking air.

“Pay attention. This is the good part,” the judge adds with a smile, making our heads lift before we’re sucked back in.

Oh fuck. I let out a heavy breath, watching drunk Eleanor lift one arm and look directly into the camera, shouting, “I just married Crew Matthews. He’s my husband, bitches.”

My own drunk-as-hell voice is right behind her. “Gimme a kiss, baby. You’re Mrs. Matthews now. Fuck Thomas.”

Jesus. Damn. Christ. We are so done. Those aren’t people that need to be propped up or even helped to their beds with a bucket by the side. Those are just two horny fucking morons doing some dumb shit.

“Looks like you have been caught red-handed in a lie, Mr. Matthews…” The judge looks at Eleanor, adding, “And Mrs. Matthews.”

“What’s the punishment for perjury?” I say well under my breath to Josh, who shakes his head just as Eleanor’s saucer-sized eyes catch mine.

Judge Reynolds cuts the video right in the middle of our sloppy make-out and begins shuffling the paperwork. But Eleanor’s eyes are still popping out of her head as she looks back at Josh and then at me, hissing under her breath.

“I knew this was a bad idea. P.S. No thanks for making my last name the only one you remember in life. You’re an idiot. It’s probably all the balls to the head.”

“This is my fault?” I shoot back. “Who has a public-private Instagram for people to find damning evidence? What are you, eighty? Learn how to work technology.”

She rolls her eyes, but I stare at her profile for a hard second before returning to the judge, who looks up and smiles.

“Annulment denied. So now you’re going to ask me for a civil divorce…that’s problem number two. For both parties to obtain a divorce in the state of Nevada, one of them must be a resident. Otherwise, you’ll have to file in your home state. Which, if the records are correct, is California. And that’ll take six months.”

Eleanor sucks in a gasp, adding, “Oh god… wait, he lives here…”

“Yeah, I’m a resident,” I say too quickly, feeling her hand grip my forearm because we’re each hoping the universe is throwing us a life vest, but the judge cuts me off.