Page 67 of Sucker For You

Bowls and mugs left soaking in the sink, Nalgene water bottle filled, he dialed the Monterey courthouse while Isabel buckled on her seat belt in the Jeep. The line rang throughout their stop for a pair of runners crossing Casa Verde Way, and continued to buzz with no menu options or answering service as they merged onto the Pacific Coast Highway. It rang long enough for Isabel to voice her concern about the courthouse’s staffing schedule, since no one was answering the main line on a Monday morning. Wes grimaced in the rearview mirror. She was right. But fortunately an under-caffeinated voice crackled onto the call just before their exit to Moss Landing Road.

“You’ve reached the Monterey County Superior Court. How may I direct you?”

“We want to apply for a marriage license.”

“Transferring you to the county clerk.”

Beep.

“Monterey County Superior Court, county clerk.”

“Hello, yeah.” He slowed over the Old Salinas River and pulled into MORI’s lot. “We want to get a marriage license. Plusan officiant and witnesses. What’s the next date that we can get the legal stuff done?”

“Hold, please.” Silence on the line, the clerk seeming to check a court calendar. Then, with a crinkle of static, “Summer’s our popular season for petty crime and weddings. But Judge Hernán Cruz has an appointment available on September twenty-sixth at two forty-five. If you apply for a license by nine that day, we can process and issue it by noon. Then he can fit you in before he gives a speech at the bailiff’s retirement party.”

Twenty-two days.

The date was workable; September twenty-sixth was before Isabel’s end-of-the-month deadline. Tight, but workable.

Book it?he mouthed to her.

Yes.

“We’ll take the twenty-sixth,” he told the clerk. “Can we also get on standby for any cancellation spots that come up sooner?”

“Yes. But no guarantees.”

“Understood.”

“Your names and contact details?”

“Wes Monaghan and Isabel Wright.” He added their phone numbers and emails, which he read back twice.

“Confirmed,” and the line disconnected.

“Well—thatwas romantic,” he said into the quiet.

Isabel shrugged beside him. “The clerks and officiant don’t seem likely to ask us difficult questions. Besides, if there aren’t any cancellations before the twenty-sixth, we have additional time to prepare evidence for the visa interview.”

“True.”

Maybe he could also figure out how to finance an engagement ring in these next three weeks?

For now, Wes joined her in hopping down from the Jeep and entering MORI’s lobby. She signed in at the front desk for her shift, picked up her badge, and met the volunteer coordinator: a quick-moving woman with a smile, a headscarf, and a clipboard of chores, who excused herself from shaking hands due to her elbow-length rubber gloves. Meanwhile, he leaned a forearm beside Brianne’s Stanley cup and told the facilities manager about his plans for his dive. For safety, and to stall for a little more time with Isabel. To make sure she was comfortable, too. (No handshakes or touching from strangers so far. That had to be good.) He added to Brianne, “Just in case anyone’s monitoring the water offshore and thinks they’ve spotted a new kind of humanoid seal? That’s me. Wouldn’t want to disappoint your researchers. Apparently, most mermaid sightings are really seals, dugongs, or belugas.”

He left Isabel shaking her head at her badge with her lips twitching from stifled laughter, and went to collect his dive gear.

But rather than shrugging into a lead-weighted vest, mask, snorkel tube, and fins down on the beach, he found himself calling the local hostel to cancel his stay. He scrolled through the Monaghan family chat to confirm his availability for tonight’s video call. (Maybe he’d mention Isabel casually in conversation, introducing his parents and his brother to the idea of her—starting the groundwork for his big news.) Then he opened a web search. Gasper’s Jewelers, Monterey Bay Silver Company, Peninsula Gem & Jewelry Supply: diamonds, sapphires, garnets, pearls, morganite, cubic zirconia—plus white gold, yellow gold, rose gold, silver, platinum, andround,cushion,radiant,baguette,marquise. . .

Most of the rings cost more than his best camera. Gasper’s “Thalassa” setting, with its massive sapphire banded insustainable salt-water pearls, rivaled the probable price of theNauti Lass. Honestly, his bank account was never going to finance something pretty for Isabel. Not something as nice as she deserved.

Of course, she wasn’t expecting anything more than a cereal box prize—if that.

Then it doesn’t matter, does it?

But, actually, it did. Even if she didn’t care, it mattered to Wes.

So what other options were. . . well, not in the cereal box, but on the table? What did Isabel want? Not that she’d tell him. But in the three days they’d known each other, had he caught her gazing anywhere beyond their octopus with a dangerous and lovely brightness in her eyes? With shy, wistful longing?