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Chapter Eleven
Somehow, I had forgotten how much rubbish goes into getting married, even if the ceremony takes place in a magistrate's office. Luckily, Emery already has a passport, so I don't need to "steamroll the American legal system," as she called it, to get one for her on short notice. I also don't need to stay in this country until that happens. Going home is all I want right now. Well, that and Emery's body. But before I can shag her again, I must go through the rubbish. That means buying wedding rings. She doesn't have an engagement ring, but that seems superfluous, and she doesn't act as if she cares.
Am I a blind eejit? Does she want a diamond ring?
No, she wouldn't be marrying me if she wanted all the bells and whistles of a genuine marriage. The contract and prenuptial agreement spell out the parameters.
Though I make certain everything is arranged quickly and properly, Emery doesn't seem to mind the rush. She told me I'm "polite but ruthless" in my determination to get this done, but she also said it's "sexy as hell." Am I ruthless? Only when necessary, but I don't think I've treated her that way. I reserve my ruthless side for defending my clients from lawsuits or whatever bollocks they're going through. Emery hasn't really seen that side of me.
When I suggest we go to a high-end jeweler for rings, Emery points out that we can't get bespoke wedding bands on such short notice. To meet my "adorably uptight, self-imposed deadline" for leaving the country, I give in and take her to a store that can deliver rings immediately. Emery called my deadline that. I don't see what's adorable or uptight about finishing this as soon as possible. It's efficient. My fiancée also calls me "adorably snooty" because I would've preferred more expensive rings.
She is a strange woman.
"Uptight and kind of a snob," Emery teases while we study the options inside the glass case at a jewelry store.
"I like quality and originality."
"Originality, hm? Is that why you wore a kilt Friday night?"
"No." I wave to the clerk. A laddie who looks like he's barely out of his teens approaches us, and I indicate a pair of simple gold bands. Emery will think they're expensive, but to me, they are average. While the clerk retrieves and boxes the rings, I angle toward her with a hip braced on the jewelry case. "I told you why I wore a kilt."
"You fed me a mouthful of BS, and being a polite lady, I let you get away with it." She moves closer, and I realize I've subconsciously rested a hand on her hip. "Seeing as I'm about to uproot my entire life for you, I think the least you owe me is the truth about your choice of clothing that night. Why a kilt?"
No, my fiancée won't give up until I tell her. So I exhale a long sigh. "Aidan."
"Your brother?"
I nod, my mouth crimped, while I recall my conversation with my younger brother. "Aidan dared me to wear a kilt in public, in a location where no one else would be wearing one and no one would expect to see a man dressed that way." I scratch my jaw, and my lips keep twitching as if they want me to smile, but I don't. "Aidan thought it would be funny."
"Because you're…you."
"Aye. The dare turned into a wager."
"You won. What do you get?"
"A favor from Aidan. Whatever I want, whenever I want."
"Wow, that's quite a wager. What are you going to make him do?"
"Haven't decided yet."
Emery insists on taking a picture of us in the jewelry store, and I acquiesce with a roll of my eyes. Women are so barmy about this sort of thing. It's not as if we're in love. It's an arrangement, nothing more. Once I've paid for the rings, we go to her apartment so she can pack.
Emery has just finished packing one suitcase when I announce, "Time to go."
How many bags does the woman need? One seems plenty to me.
"But—" She flaps her arms in a gesture I can't interpret. "All my stuff. I can't live out of one suitcase for the next year."
"You can buy new things."
"What's the big rush?"
I shove my hands into my trouser pockets and hunch my shoulders. "I want to go home."
What a bloody stupid confession. But it's true. I miss my home, meaning more than just the place where I live. I'm referring to my family too, and the Highlands.
She flies at me and throws her arms around me. "You miss your family, I get it. We can rush, and maybe I can get my friends to pack up the rest of my stuff and somehow get it shipped to me."
