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Including the simple fact that I have no heirlooms that require treasuring. I have some nice pearl earrings my father got me for my sixteenth birthday, but honestly, my ears are the safest place for them. I do pack the two diaries where I poured out my feelings for Joe as a teenager. More because I don’t want anyone else reading them if I leave them here. In the end, an extra bag isn’t required. How sad. To reward myself, I decide to head up to the lodge a few hours early. Nothing is happening with the wedding until tomorrow and the original plan was to leave after dinner, but maybe this way I can treat myself to a brief time out in the spa getting a massage. I sigh in bliss at the thought before wandering into the bathroom to get ready.
That’s when I let myself really look. It’s real. There’s a small heart-shaped bruise just above my waist on the side. I finger it lightly. Joe put that there. Joe! In the clear light of day, I have questions. So many questions.
Before I break down and call him, I get dressed in practical mountain-going gear. Thick corduroy pants and a long fluffy sweater. Then I braid my toffee-colored hair because it tends to stick to this particular sweater, and that’s not the look I’m ever going for.
Then I pack up my car. I eye the main house and wonder if I should let my dad know I’m leaving, but he’s been distracted lately with business stuff, so finally I shrug and start the engine. He’ll text me if he gets around to wondering where I am.
When I pull off the highway for gas, I take a minute to check my phone. I have a text, but it’s from Joe, not Dad. I cringe a little when I see the bluntneed this back before 5 pm.
When I open the message, there’s a link, but it takes me to a page with a password and he didn’t give me one. I try my birthday and his. My last effort before calling him is yesterday’s date. And strangely, that works. Huh.
It’s a marriage license application. All filled out except for my signature. I shiver. This is even more real than the mark he put on me. It feels surreal. I can’t believe I stop and question it for a long second. I’m sure of my feelings, but I guess I have a few doubts about Joe’s quick turnaround. It’s already 3:30 so with a sigh I sign it and send a simple reply,Done but I have questions.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it’s not the horrified mouth-gaping emoji I get back. I must look like a crazy woman laughing at her phone in the gas station parking lot. (Yes, Joe, I pulled away from the pumps before using my cell phone, jeesh!)
Joe
Nira wouldn’t be Nira if she didn’t have questions. But they’re going to have to wait until I have the arrangements for marrying her underway. If all goes to plan, we’ll slide a wedding within a wedding under everyone’s noses. It means she doesn’t get the flowers and fancy dress and shit. I’ll make that up to her later if I can. When I have the reluctant agreement from the officiant in hand and the marriage application filed with the county, I’m clear to go find my girl. I know she headed up early and I made sure to call ahead and get her pre-paid for the spa, as I’m guessing that’s where she’s headed first.
My guess is confirmed when I stroll into the suite and see her sacked out on the couch in her bathrobe. She turns bright eyes my direction then smiles. “Joe!”
I shake my head at her endless cheerfulness. “Short Stack. Did you eat yet?”
She shakes her head no. “Too relaxed to worry about it.”
“Well, I’m starving, but you have or had questions. Nothing personal in the dining room, baby, so either they wait a little longer or we order room service.”
She nods, looking thoughtful. “I’d rather do that here than change. Do you think room service can do pizza?”
I check the menu in the binder by the room phone. I don’t see it until I scroll down to the kids’ menu. That makes me chuckle along with feeling ancient. “Only if you want plain cheese intended for the picky eaters under ten,” I tell her. Nira rolls her eyes.
“Fine, you pick, then.”
When the food arrives, I tip the guy and then fasten all the deadbolts on the door. Only then do I do the full security sweep required between visits. It shouldn’t be an issue, but this wedding is high profile, and I’ve already kicked out five tabloid reporters. I don’t need a new one getting wind of Nira’s change of status until we’re ready. Once the room is clear, Nira is happily munching away on the baked ziti I ordered for her as being the closest to pizza on the grownup menu.
“So those questions, baby. What’s on your mind?”
She pauses with her fork midair and sighs. “You went from zero to sixty rather fast, Joe. And not where I could watch your face, either. I’m worried you’re feeling sorry for me.”
I snort. “I wouldn’t take pity on you by tethering my ancient ass to you, Nira. I crossed that line when I realized I would cheerfully kill any other man who dared to touch you. This keeps everyone alive and out of prison.”
She blinks rapidly at that. “And another thing, you never let anyone else call you Joe. But I do it all the time. Are you too nice to tell me off?”
I eye her with disbelief. “You really don’t think this is real, do you? Showing you will probably be easier. Joe is your name for me, baby. Nobody else gets to use it. And nobody tried before you insisted on it, either,” I tell her, thinking back to that day when Nira was all elbows and sass.
She smiles slightly, the first real hint of one I’ve seen this evening. “Oh good, I don’t think I could start calling you Josef now.”
I growl at the sound of my full name on her tongue. Nira eyes me warily. “Eat up, sweetness. I want your full attention while I demonstrate.”
She gulps and blushes. Then crams two forkfuls in her mouth at the same time.
5
Nira
When Joe sets out to prove a point, he really doesn’t hold back. As soon as I push my plate away, he’s picking me up and setting me down on the table. He kisses a line down the edge of my robe before deftly loosening the tie. When I’m bare to the room, he steps back and simply looks at me, a small smile teasing his lips. “You’re perfection, Nira.”
I tremble, really not sure what to do with this sudden change in his perception of me. Embrace it, sure, but then?
