Page 2

I tuned her out, my eyes fixed on a point just above her head. Two years. Two years of playing house with this stranger, all so I could finally get the info I needed to make Harold Edward Coombes pay for what he'd done. My dad's face flashed in my mind—how he'd looked that last day, defeated and broken, the light gone from his eyes after Coombes had systematically destroyed everything he'd built.
"Mr. Sousa?" The judge's voice pulled me back to the present. "Your vows?"
I blinked, momentarily thrown. Vows? Nobody had mentioned vows. I glanced at Matty, who looked equally startled.
"We, uh, we didn't prepare anything specific," I said, trying to sound apologetic.
The ceremony was mercifully brief after that. Calvin and Ricky stood as our witnesses, beaming like this was a real love match instead of what it actually was—a business transaction with a side of revenge. Matty's hands trembled as we exchanged the simple bands I'd picked up at a jewelry store yesterday. His skin was cool to the touch, and I couldn't help noticing how small his hand looked in mine.
When the judge pronounced us married, there was an awkward moment where Matty glanced up at me, uncertainty written across his face. I gave him a brief nod and leaned down to press a quick, impersonal kiss to his lips. It lasted half a second, but I felt him freeze completely at the contact. We stepped away from each other quickly, both of us pretending that awkward moment hadn't happened. The judge smiled at us, oblivious to the tension.
"Congratulations, Mr. and Mr. Sousa-Coombes."
Matty's head jerked up at that, his eyes wide. We hadn't discussed names. Hell, we hadn't discussed much of anything beyond the basic terms of our arrangement. I should have asked more questions, I guessed, but the result was more important than how I got there.
"We're keeping our own names," I said smoothly. "For professional reasons."
The judge nodded, unfazed. "Of course. Well, congratulations regardless."
Cruise clapped me on the shoulder as we exited the judge's chambers. "Well, that's done," he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "You good?"
I nodded, watching as Ricky enveloped Matty in a hug that seemed to swallow him even if he was probably half an inch taller than Ricky. Calvin stood beside them, practically bouncing with excitement.
"So," Ricky said, pulling away from Matty but keeping his hands on his shoulders. "Celebration dinner? I made reservations at Marcello's." He turned to Matty. “Daddy and Daddy Saul will be joining us.”
Matty glanced at me, uncertainty written across his features. "I, um, I don't know if—"
"We'll be there," I said, surprising myself. Cruise gave me a look, but I ignored him. This whole charade needed to be convincing, and ducking out of a wedding dinner would raise eyebrows.
Besides, Matty looked so relieved at my answer that I almost felt... something. Not sympathy exactly, but maybe a twinge of curiosity about this kid who was nothing like I was expecting.
"Fantastic." Ricky clapped his hands together. "Six o'clock. Don't be late."
Cruise gave me a significant look. "I'll catch you two later, then. Congrats and all that." He nodded at Matty, who returned the gesture with a tentative smile, but then Ricky distracted Matty, and I stepped away with Cruise. My uncle would want to know if I'd gone through with it. If the first step of our plan was in motion. "Tell him it's done. I'm officially married to Harold Coombes' godson."
"You sure you can pull this off?" Cruise asked, his voice dropping even lower. "Like I said, two years is a long time to play house."
I nearly ground my jaw. "Two years is nothing compared to what that bastard took from my family."
Cruise gave me a long look. "Just... be careful, brother. Don't lose yourself in this."
I clapped him on the shoulder. "Not a chance."
Once Ricky and Calvin had bustled off, chattering excitedly about centerpieces and champagne, Matty and I were left standing awkwardly in the courthouse corridor. Alone together for the first time as... husbands.Jesus.
"So..." Matty fidgeted with the new ring on his finger. "What now? Um, home?"
Good fucking question. I hadn't thought this far ahead. The plan had been simple: get married, wait for Matty to get his trust fund, use my position as his husband to destroy his godfather. I hadn't considered the practical details of actually living as a married couple.
“Ricky said you have your own place.” Because there was no way I was living with Coombes, and my house was exactly that.Mine.
He nodded.
"Okay then.” I’d brought the truck. Even I wasn’t dumb enough to ride my bike in this fucking kilt. Or not drunk enough, whatever.
He followed me to my F250 and hesitated. Realizing the problem, I simply opened the door and grabbed his waist, practically throwing him onto the seat. “Shit, sorry,” I said, immediately contrite. I wasn’t a bully. “I expected you to weigh a little more.”
And then I had another unsettling thought. In my head I’d expected someone into kink, maybe submissive play if I was lucky enough to get back into that, and who needed a lot of spoiling and looking after. At least, that’s what I’d understood from what I’d seen Bolt, the Daddy I knew, do at the clubhouse.I expected a boy who was very high-maintenance. A spoiled brat looking for a spanking, but what if he wanted a Daddy/caregiver rather than a Daddy/Dom? That was completely different. I tried to look at him unobtrusively. He had skin-tight pants on, so he definitely wasn’t rocking a diaper. But I should already know this. And a tinge of shame crept in. I’d been so focused on finally getting my revenge that I hadn’t thought about the practicalities.