He shrugs. “Fine. Let’s do it. Do you think Sophie will care?”
Waving him off, I walk toward the priest, who yells at me. “Dance with me!”
“No more dancing! We need you for a very spec—special task. We want you to marry us! Right now!”
The priest is an older man, with a long white beard and round black spectacles. He hugs his middle and bends over, laughing to the ground. “I’m too drunk to marry anyone!”
“I’m sober as a bell. Come on! We have to get it done!”
Gage’s arm slides around my waist and shrugs when the priest glances at him. “She wants to get married. What do you want me to do about it?”
Behind him, Sophie approaches in her white gown, beaming. I cup my hands around my mouth, screaming to her, “We’re getting married!”
“What?” she says.
Well, that does it. If the bride is cool with it, I’m cool with it.
The old man shrugs at both of our continued insisting, and suddenly the whole town rallies behind me. “MARRY THEM! MARRY THEM! MARRY THEM!”
Tears prick my eyes as I turn around and scan their happy faces, all clapping in support of me. Gage grasps my hands in his, the priest slurring through biblical phrases. Someone volunteers to make the rings.
“And may—uh—you always cherish and um health.” He stumbles in place. “Give her the thing.”
Gage slides a makeshift ring around my finger—the blade of grass delicately tied into a circle. Then I take my piece of twine that I tied up and force it over Gage’s thick ring finger.
Then we both look at the priest, who seems to have forgotten what to say. “Fuck it. As the power et cetera, et cetera, I now pronounce man and bride—wife.”
The man standing in front of me looks like the perfect husband, even though I know he wears flannel instead of suits and this is just a dress up game. I’m ready for this. And I’m ready for the promise gleaming in his eyes. So I kiss him.
His lips fall against mine, tender as the clearing erupts into ear-splitting cheers. Someone, I think I recognize as Gage’s brother, slaps him on the back. The sea of drunken faces look ecstatic for me—us.
“Wait! You gotta fill out a form.”
Oh, right.
The priest lays out a marriage certificate on one of the tables. He hands me a pen and I hesitate over the line where I’m supposed to sign my name, realizing I’ve forgotten how to spell it. I mouth it out loud until I know I’ve got it right, and then I hand it over to Gage, who signs it without hesitation. The wedding party surrounds us, dry rice raining on our heads as we stumble from the white tent to “consummate the marriage” as Gage says it.
We walk from the golden Chinese lanterns into the huge lawn, heading for the near pitch-black road. Laughing at what we’ve done, we weave in and out of the street. Gage picks a grain of rice out of my hair. I cling to his arm the whole way back, my side in stitches from laughter. There aren’t streetlights in the town, just the soft glow from lights in houses. Wind suddenly rattles through the dried leaves on the street, and I hear soft wing beats above me.
God, it’s beautiful. I never thought I’d like a place like this.
As soon as Gage’s house looms closer, he bends his neck, his lips brushing my ear. “When I get you through that door, I’m ripping your clothes off.”
My blood heats my skin as his hands curl around my biceps, leading me up the steps of his porch as though he’s a guard escorting me to my cell. My heart beats a violent tattoo against my chest as my fingers brush against the wooden door. There’s a heady scent lingering in the air as we walk inside. I turn, my heart in my throat as his house explodes with light.
Gage’s tie hangs loosely, the first hole of his shirt unbuttoned. A deadly smirk plays on his full lips, my blood pounding when I see the piece of twine around his ring finger. Everything’s still hazy except for how badly I want him to touch me. That wrestles through my limbs like the alcohol coursing through my veins.
“Now that you’re my wife, there’s going to be changes.” The gleam in his eye is downright seductive.
“Not yet. You still haven’t consummated the marriage.”