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“I do.”
“Again.”
“I do.”
“Again.”
“I do.”
Slamming my lips against hers, I kiss her until we’re both breathless, then I pick her up, open the door, and step back into the hall, almost tripping over the man from behind the counter.
Clearing his throat, he quickly runs his eyes over us, then clears his throat again, a pink hue heating his cheeks. “Mr. Malik and Miss Jordan, the judge is ready for you.”
Lowering Etta to her feet, I wrap my arm tightly around her waist, then follow as the man leads us over to a set of wooden double doors, opening one for us, then gesturing for us to go inside.
I breathe a little easier once the courtroom doors are closed behind us, enclosing us in the small wood-paneled room.
“Good afternoon,” the judge says, sliding his glasses down his nose and reading from the papers in front of him. “Oscar and Henrietta.”
“We actually prefer Oz and Etta,” I correct him, not wanting him to use the names we both left behind as kids.
“Well…” He picks up a pen and writes our names down on the papers. “Okay then,” he says, pushing his glasses back up his nose and standing from his seat. “Do you have any witnesses, or would you like me to ask two of my colleagues to be present?”
Before I can speak, there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” the judge calls. When the door opens, Knight and Anders file in.
“Well, that answers my question,” the judge says. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
11
ETTA
When the judge starts to speak, I don’t hear a word through the ringing in my ears. I don’t know what’s happening. No, that’s a lie. I know exactly what’s happening, I just don’t know how things have escalated so quickly that I’m standing in front of a judge in the middle of a wedding ceremony.
“Do you, Oz James Malik, take Etta Jayne Jordan to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the judge asks.
“I do,” Oz answers immediately, like he didn’t even need to think about it.
“Do you, Etta Jayne Jordan, take Oz James Malik to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Suddenly, the ringing stops, and everything goes silent. So silent that I swear I can hear my heart pounding in my chest.
“Miss Jordan?” the judge calls my name.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Yes, you do?” the judge asks, his brow furrowed.
“What?”
“I asked if you, Etta Jayne Jordan, take Oz James Malik to be your lawfully wedded husband.”
“Oh,” I say stupidly. But then Oz reaches out and cups my cheek, his lips parting as he mouths the words, “I do.”
“I do,” I echo back, lost to his touch and the way his eyes are ordering me to comply. When he mouths, “Good girl,” I almost swoon.
For a moment, the ringing in my ears returns until the words “By the power vested in me, by the state of Montana, I now pronounce you husband and wife” permeate the crazy that’s going on in my head.
Snapping my head to look at the judge, my mouth falls open when I realize what he just said, but before I can speak, Oz’s arms are around me and his lips are on mine, and that’s all I can think about, all I can feel, and all I need.
