Page 135 of Desert Rain
“I doubt that.”
Then she grabbed the front of my shirt and kissed me.
Not soft.
Not sweet.
Not like a woman making a polite legal gesture in front of witnesses.
She kissed me like she was mad at me for making her feel safe and was mad at herself for wanting the kiss at all. Like fear, vodka, adrenaline, and whatever had been burning between us since that first sidewalk kiss all crashed together beneath the fake flowers.
My hands stayed exactly where they were for one brutal second.
Then one landed at her waist.
Just there.
Just steady.
She made a tiny sound against my mouth, and every bet in the chapel changed in real time.
The brothers erupted.
River shouted, “Twenty-four hours!”
Tank barked, “Pay attention, that woman’s winning the long game!”
Edge yelled, “No chance. Look at him. He’s gone.”
They weren’t wrong.
I was gone.
But I still made myself pull back first.
Sienna’s eyes opened slowly. Her lips were parted. Her breath came fast. She looked furious, dazed, and more beautiful than anything this city had ever faked into existence.
“That,” she said, voice unsteady, “was ceremonial.”
I smiled.
Couldn’t help it.
“Sure, wife.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Careful.”
The officiant handed us the paperwork before she could threaten me properly.
And that was the part that did it.
Not the vows.
Not the kiss.
The paperwork.
Sienna stared at the line where she had to sign her name, then at mine already printed beside it.
