Page 87 of Call You Mine
Heading toward the register, I see Anderson waiting by the front, holding a paper bag in one hand. He’s dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, and that stupid backwards baseball hat, his attention focused out the window and away from the check out area like Rumi requested.
What is it about turning a hat backwards that instantly makes a man more attractive?
“Find something good?” he asks as I walk over to him, his gaze not straying from outside.
“Good enough,” I answer, sticking my hands in the pockets of my jean shorts. “What about you?”
He nods. “I think so.”
“Can I see?” I ask, trying to peek into his bag.
“You’ll see it when it’s time,” he says, pulling the bag from my hands and finally looking at me, a smile spreading on his face.
I want to push him a little more—why would he be getting so flustered about me seeing a suit that I’m going to see tomorrow night?
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” I try, but he shocks me with his answer.
“Absolutely not. You heard Rumi, it’s bad luck.”
I’m about to make a remark about not needing luck when we’re interrupted.
“Alright, lovebirds. We’ll meet you back at the hotel. How far do you have to go to get your marriage license?” Emerson asks.
“The place is just downtown,” Anderson answers. He’sthe one who looked into the process of getting married here in Las Vegas when I told him my idea about getting it done this weekend.
I have a meeting with Patricia the day we get back to Milwaukee, and if all goes well, Georgie’s adoption will be approved by the end of the month.
“And there’s no waiting period?” Rumi asks as Jack grabs the bag with my dress and veil she’s holding.
Anderson shakes his head. “Vegas is famous for being able to get a marriage licenseandget married on the same day if you want.”
“Damn,” Emerson says, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you guys are going to be married tomorrow. It doesn’t feel real, you know?”
Girl, you have no fucking idea.
Anderson and I both chuckle, and I wonder if it sounds as forced to our friends as it does to us. “What time is the car coming for us tonight?” I ask Emerson, changing the subject to our plans.
And with that, our conversation delves into what time we all need to be ready to leave for the concert tonight. Because of Emerson’s connection with the opener, we were able to get a car to take us to the venue and pick us up after.
I don’t drink, never wanted to after seeing what alcohol did to my mom, so I’m used to being the designated driver for these types of nights—it’s nice not to have that responsibility for tonight.
“There’s a party after the concert too that we can go to, if you guys feel up to it,” Emerson adds, after we iron out all the details. “It’ll be the bands and their close friends or family, so it’s nothing too big.”
“Works for us,” Rumi says, bouncing on her toes. She looks at Jack, who offers her a soft smile, leaning down to press a kiss on top of her head.
It makes my heart squeeze, the ease woven in the way they show their affection with each other.
“What about you guys?” Emerson asks, her eyes bouncing between Anderson and me. She raises a brow, almost in a challenge.
She’s been doing it a lot these last two days, ever since the plane ride when she asked if I was sure about marrying Anderson.
Without thinking too much about it, I grab Anderson’s hand, pulling him to me. I bring my face just inches from him, offering him a smile as I say, “What do you say, babe? A little party before we tie the knot?”
If he’s taken aback by my sudden public display of affection, he doesn’t show it. “You know I’ll follow you wherever you go, love.” He smiles big, and my stomach flips.
I can’t tear my eyes away, not when he looks at me like this—like I just gave him the world on a silver platter.
Emerson clears her throat, and it gives me the push I need to look away from Anderson. This time when she looks at me, there’s a smirk on her face.
