I did to get you to look my way,” he drawled finally, “but I’m sure grateful you did.”
Sage snickered. “Aren’t those song lyrics?”
He grinned back, allowing, “Maybe.”
Only able to imagine the grief she’d get from her brothers if they went that route, Sage decreed, “I think we should be a little more original.”
Nick’s brow rose in annoyance. “Then we should have started this weeks ago.”
“Okay,” Sage said hastily. “There’s no need to get testy. How about I say, ‘There are no words to describe how I feel about you. I just know this feels right, and I want to be with you,’ or something like that.”
Nick tilted his head. “Pretty good. Vague. But truthful.”
Sage grinned, glad an argument—which would have been their first—had been averted. “Now all we have to do is add to it. Refine it a little. And then come up with something equally reassuring for you to say, too.”
* * *
NICK WASN’T SURE who Sage was trying to pacify with this whole writing-their-own-vows stuff, but if it made her feel better, then he was all for it. The hectic nature of the last three days had been hard on her. She looked weary. And that couldn’t be good for her or the baby.
So when she declared them done, a short while later, hit the print command and then ran over to her printer to pull out two sheets of paper, one for her and one for him, he celebrated by kissing her again.
One thing led to another.
The next thing they knew she really was late, and so was he. They split up, heading their separate ways. He did not see her again until she walked down the aisle on her eldest brother Garrett’s arm.
As she glided toward him, looking like a princess out of some Disney movie, his heart caught in his chest. She was so damn gorgeous in that ball gown–style wedding dress. So sweet and innocent and glowing. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. And would have even if she hadn’t been carrying his child and on the verge of giving him the family of his own he had always wanted.
“Who giveth the bride away?” the JP asked.
Garrett lifted Sage’s veil, kissed her cheek and answered, “Her family and I do.”
Sage’s lower lip quivered.
In that second, Nick realized what a disservice he had done. This was hard enough without his deceased parents and her late father here to see this. But to secretly be doing it all for a business deal... He swore silently to himself as he took her hand, vowing he would make it up to her. Some way. Somehow.
The distinguished-looking sixtysomething justice of the peace welcomed everyone to their nuptials. He spoke briefly about the grave responsibility entailed in entering into a marriage.
A speech that only made Nick feel all the guiltier.
“And now we will turn it over to Nick and Sage, who have written their own vows. Sage, would you like to go first?”
She nodded, hands trembling as she unfolded the page. Looking down, she began reading nervously, “Nick. There are no watercress...”
A few smothered chuckles.
The justice of the peace gave everyone a sharp look.
Aware of the solemnity of the occasion, everyone fell silent once again.
Sage shook her head, her brow pleating worrisomely as she squinted. “Sorry. There are no words that would adequately describe how I feel about you, Nick.” She looked up with a smile, then read confidently from the paper in her hand, “So, I’m just going to say, I think yeast...”
Another undercurrent of nervous giggles.
Sage blushed.
Nick slid a hand beneath her forearm to steady her, aware she wouldn’t be the first bride to wilt from a combination of nerves, and in their case, guilt. Resolved to help her through this, he encouraged under his breath, “Just calm down. You got this.”
Sage nodded. Jerking in a deep breath, tried again. “I think you are the most wonderful mango...” She looked up, clearly mortified. “I mean, man I’ve ever known. And...” She swiftly scanned the page, looking even more distressed. “I think I’m going to just say I’m really happy to be marrying you today. And stop right there.”
Radiating embarrassment, she gestured at him. “On to you.”
Nick had never known Sage to fall apart like this. But given how quickly everything had happened, he figured she was entitled to suffer the same kind of public speaking phobia that had haunted him as a kid, and cut her speech short.
With a grin, he removed the paper from the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket and unfolded it. Still holding her eyes, wordlessly promising that he would make this okay for both of them with the best recitation he had ever given in his life, he looked down at his vows. And began. “Sage. You are the most brioche...” He stopped and shook his head while trying to quickly remember what should have been there.
If this is what “his bride” had been dealing with, no wonder she’d panicked!
Ignoring the faint titters in their audience, he tried again. “The most um...most...beautiful woman I’ve ever met, inside and out.”
Whew! High five on that one!
“And if there is one thing today is going to show us,” he continued determinedly, glad to be back on track, “it’s that we will otters have each other.”
Otters?
What the hell?
And then, amid the muffled rumble of new laughter, he realized what had happened. There was no need to go on reading from the pages Sage had printed out for them. Not unless they wanted this to turn into even more of a comedy skit.
He turned to face their guests and held up the page for everyone to see. “So much for writing our vows on an electronic device with autocorrect,” he announced, grinning from ear to ear. “Seriously, folks—” getting into the spirit of the hilarity he crumpled it up dramatically, and tossed it to one of his sisters in the front row “—proofread!”
With a mischievous grin, Sage crumpled up her vows, and tossed ’em to family, too.
Taking both his bride’s hands in his he made an executive decision and decided, “We’re just going to have to do this on the fly.”
Ignoring her prior worry about the results of any extemporaneous speech, he paused and looked deep into her eyes, then said what had been on his mind since the day they’d decided to risk this.
“I used to think that life had to be lived in stages. If I was going to have a family, I needed to find someone compatible and get married right out of college.” He paused ruefully, to let his prior idiocy sink in. “A plan that did not work for so many reasons...”
He hadn’t been anywhere mature enough. Hadn’t known the first thing about
