Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)(40)
He offers me a firm handshake and a watery smile. “You take good care of my little girl now.”
I nod with conviction, staring back at the much shorter man. “I intend to.” My voice comes out sure and even, full of determination. Because nothing about the sentiment is fake. I intend to take good care of Tabitha—in any way that she’ll let me.
Then her hand is in mine, and I lead her up the low steps to the dais, where I lean toward her and whisper, “You look incredible.” Because I can’t help myself. And because it’s true.
She shivers as she peeks up at me, eyes searching as though to see if I’m telling the truth or not. Then I get a nod along with a quiet and unexpected, “So do you.”
And there’s no snideness to her voice. In fact, I get the sense she’s being entirely genuine. It throws me off, but I don’t get much time to fixate. Within seconds, we stand facing each other, in front of a crowd, and it’s no longer the time or place to be confused by Tabitha Garrison.
“Tabby girl, congratulations.” The officiant smiles at her affectionately, and she gives the same grin back.
I wasn’t expecting Doris, who I’m told owns the bar, to be the one marrying us, but Tabitha insisted, and I have a record of sucking at saying no to her. So here I am, getting married by a woman who reeks of cigarettes and looks like she’s worn baby oil in the sun for decades. But apparently she’s a registered officiant, so whatever.
“Thank you, Doris,” Tabitha whispers back.
“I hope he has a huge dick. It makes the dumb shit men do a lot more forgivable.”
My face goes blank as I stare back at the woman with no filter. Thank fuck, she’s not wearing a mic. Bash groans behind me, and Rosie covers a snort by slapping her hand over her mouth. Tabitha makes a slight choking sound and thumps a fist on her chest.
Doris’s eyes slice in my direction. “Don’t look at me like that, boy. You get to be my age, and you start telling the truth because you’ve quit worrying about offending people.”
I open my mouth to say… I don’t know what I was going to say to that, but I don’t need to say anything, because Tabitha reaches her free hand out to cup the woman’s elbow. “We thank you for your wisdom, Doris.”
Then my fiancée winks at her.
My cheeks flame, and I stare at Tabitha, thinking back to that hallway in the shitty bowling alley where she grabbed my dick with all the confidence in the world.
Then I spiral. Thinking about kissing her. Here. In front of all these people.
The past days have been a blur of planning, and the upcoming nuptials have done nothing to lessen the distance between us. Instead of actively disliking each other, the energy between us has shifted into awkward territory. Tolerable, but slightly embarrassed about where we’ve ended up. No doubt, she’s having second thoughts. I’m positive marrying an emotionally stunted, secretive stranger wasn’t on her bucket list.
“Okay, let’s get started.” Doris claps her hands and looks out over the attendees with a slight smirk. “These two lovebirds are so eager to tie the knot that they asked me to keep things simple, but my romantic side got the best of me when I sat down with a gin and tonic to plan this. So the two of you will just have to deal with the vows I’ve written for you.”
Chuckles and drawn-out awwws filter in, but I barely hear them over the pounding of my heart. Tabitha’s wide eyes focus on mine. I know she told her the simplest vows possible to keep things easy for us, and here we are with a surprise neither of us wanted.
“Without further ado, I ask that you take each other’s hands and repeat after me…”
Tabitha and I reach for each other at the same time. Her hands are small in my clammy ones. She gives me a reassuring squeeze, and I give her a subtle nod back. Then we repeat after Doris, making promises neither of us knows if we can truly keep.
“I, Rhys, promise you, Tabitha, to always respect and admire you and to appreciate you for who you are, as well as the person you become.”
Her eyes turn glassy.
“I promise that your dreams will be our dreams, and that I will do everything I can to make them a reality for both of us.”
My voice grows gravelly. That one rings just a little too true considering the real reason we’re both here today.
“I promise to be a spectator to your life, a participant in your experiences, and your biggest advocate in every moment. I promise to allow you space to be those things in my life too.”
A heavy stone settles in my stomach as those words hang in the air between us. We both know I haven’t been honest or forthcoming with her. And here we are, promising to be.
“I promise to support and encourage you, laugh with you in times of joy, and comfort you in times of sorrow.”
Laugh. I don’t know that I’ve ever laughed with Tabitha. And have I comforted her? Doris’s words on marriage slice me like little paper cuts, each one making me feel more guilty than the last.
“I promise to cherish and reinforce the love between us in good times and in bad, when life is simple and when it’s complicated—when loving you is easy and when it takes effort.”
My shoulders straighten slightly at that one. It doesn’t feel like such a blatant lie, more like what we’re doing here today. We may not love each other, but this marriage could be called caring for each other when life is not simple. There is nothing simple about Tabitha and me.