than love. He was a little uneasy about it himself, but it wasn’t as if they’d really be married.
No sex, for one thing.
Lord, the next year was going to be dismal.
Unfortunately, sex deprivation didn’t seem like a good enough reason to say no. Dylan cleared his throat. Kate was so innocent, she probably didn’t have a clue about what she was asking from him.
“Katydid…I just don’t feel comfortable about having some preacher speak words over us.” His inexplicable physical reaction to her was causing another kind of discomfort, but she didn’t need to know about that.
A stillness crept over Kate until she slowly nodded. “I see. So we’ll do it at a courthouse, or wherever civil ceremonies are offered.”
Swell, now he felt like a selfish crumb.
Husbands probably felt like that a lot, so he was getting off to a good start. Moreover, it didn’t even make sense because Kate knew the ceremony wasn’t supposed to mean anything. So why did he feel guilty?
He sighed. “Look, I know you wanted—”
“No,” she interrupted quietly. “You don’t know. It’s fine. We’ll have a civil ceremony and explain that we were in too much of a hurry to wait for a big wedding. That should satisfy the lawyers. They’ve been nagging me about the deadline, anyway, so they should understand.”
Dylan searched Kate’s face, trying to guess what was going through her head. If she thought anyone would understand their marriage, then she was fooling herself. Katydid was like a shaft of moonlight—beautiful and unattainable, with quicksilver emotions and a pedigree of snobbish old wealth and privilege. While he was the son of down-to-earth Irish immigrants who’d worked hard and made a place for themselves in a new country.
They were utterly incompatible.
The only reason anyone might be deceived was because of the charity events she’d dragged him to over the years. Of course, his family had often hinted about something between them, but he’d always laughed it off.
Now they were the ones who’d be laughing.
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