Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“All right then.” His head bobs in an affirmative nod. “We’ll leave in the morning, go to the courthouse and get married, then maybe have brunch. Then I’ve got practice in the afternoon, so I’ll bring you back here. Sound okay?”
Sounds magical, I think in my sarcastic inside voice, but I just smile and nod again. This is the right thing to do, and I need to just get over any disappointment in marrying for something other than love.
CHAPTER 4
Dax
While I know this is the right thing to do for Regan, it just feels all wrong.
Or rather, I feel something “wrong” coming off Regan as she sits beside me in the small lobby of the county clerk’s office at the courthouse. It’s a ten-by-ten room with four plastic chairs along one wall and a reception window where a bored woman who checked us in sits. Across the room from us, we can see the clerk’s office, which has a solid door but a thin-paned window that runs floor to ceiling. Contrary to my original hope, we were not the first to arrive to be married. There is another couple inside with the clerk right now.
A young couple with big smiles on their faces and their arms around each other as the clerk reads what I’m assuming are vows. The bride is wearing a simple white dress that’s casual but chosen for the occasion, and she’s clutching a small bouquet of flowers. The groom’s wearing jeans, a dress shirt, a vest, and a tie. They made an effort for this occasion, whereas Regan and I had not.
While my clothes are designer, I didn’t think twice about the jeans and button-down shirt I’d pulled from my closet. As always, Regan looks gorgeous, but I suspect she didn’t give a second thought to the black pants and silver blouse she’d chosen.
And yes… I think that might be what feels wrong. Regan is the type of woman who should have a couture wedding dress on such an important day, and she should be vibrating with excitement. Instead, she’s slouched onto the chair beside me, skimming through something on her cell phone. She’s been polite but quiet this morning, and I get the distinct impression that despite my noble intentions, I’m shattering a dream instead.
That thought almost makes me turn and tell her this is a stupid idea when the clerk’s door opens and a happily married couple emerge. They stop, not able to help themselves apparently, then engage in a deep kiss before they bound out the door.
The clerk comes out of her office, glancing across to Regan and me. She’s short and plump, I’m guessing early sixties, with a head of tight gray curls. Her eyes are bright and her smile welcoming as she asks, “Are you here to get married?”
I stand from my chair, noting Regan slowly follows. My hands are sweaty, and I give them a wipe on my jeans. “We are.”
“Well, come on in,” she says jovially, motioning us forward. “Doing these marriages are the favorite parts of my day. Did you see the couple just before you? My word, they were the sweetest. Apparently had been together for almost sixteen years. Have two kids together and just up and decided they should get married today. No other reason than it just felt right, know what I mean?”
I glance at Regan, who stares blankly at the clerk, but she’s not paying any real attention to us. She’s already turned back into her cramped office and is rounding her desk to take a seat.
We follow her in, and she waves to two more plastic chairs for us to sit in. I let Regan precede me in, then close the door behind us.
As we’re taking our seats, the woman introduces herself. “I’m Anita Dougald. We’ll handle the license first and then we can do the vows. If you brought your own, that’s great. If not, I have a standard set.”
The clerk shuffles through a drawer for some paperwork, and then glances at us with another blinding smile. She lays the papers down, then grabs a pen. “So, let’s get this filled out? Groom’s name.”
“Calvin Dax Monahan,” I say, giving her a moment to write that on the proper place of the form. “And Regan Elizabeth Miles.”
If my name means anything to Anita, she doesn’t show it. But that’s not surprising. Despite being one of the hottest teams in the league, most Vengeance players aren’t easily recognized out in public unless a person is a super fan.
Anita does not look like a super fan.
“Okay,” she drawls before asking, “Dates of birth?”
We provide the information she asks for, which isn’t a whole lot. Once the simple form is complete, she takes my payment for the license while the official one chugs out of her printer, upon which she affixes an embossed seal.