Page 8 of Breakout (Walker University #3)

six

“ A ll right, class, that’s all for today. I’ll see you next week,” the professor says.

Everyone jumps up and rushes out of the room, but I take my time putting my things back into my bag. When I stand, I run my hands down the skirt of my dress, smoothing it out. When I ran into Grace this morning, she made sure to comment on the fact I was wearing a dress, something I rarely do.

Part of me wanted to tell her that Beckett picked it out and that the only reason I’m wearing it is because we’re getting married today, but I bit my tongue.

Beckett.

Just the thought of him makes my stomach flutter. For this being a fake marriage, he sure is taking it seriously. I never would have expected him to pick out a white lace dress that hits just above my knees and leave it in my closet for me, but he did.

He’s going to make someone a really good husband someday.

The thought makes my stomach roll. I don’t want to think about him being married to anyone else, no matter how messed up that is.

He will always be my husband first, though. When the possessive thought enters my mind, I can’t help but smile.

As soon as I step out of the classroom, I see him. Beckett has on a pair of dress pants and a white button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his killer forearms. He must feel my eyes on him because he looks up, and as soon as he sees me, he smiles.

“I knew you would look amazing in that,” he says when I come to a stop next to him.

“Yeah? I wasn’t sure since it’s white.”

“You’re supposed to wear white on your wedding day,” he says quietly.

“I’m pretty sure we both know I’m not pure,” I joke back, making him smirk.

“No, no, you are not.” He reaches down and takes my hand. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

Beckett lets go of my hand and places his on my lower back, ushering me forward.

For a split second, I contemplate reaching back and taking his hand in mine again.

I’ve never been one for public displays of affection, but for some reason today I want to.

I want everyone to know that he’s taken and mine.

When we reach his car, he walks me to the passenger side and opens the door for me.

“Thank you,” I say as I slip inside.

“You’re welcome,” he says before shutting the door.

I watch as he walks around the hood of the car to get into the driver’s side. He really is too handsome for his own good. He slips into the car and shuts the door as he turns on his car.

“To the courthouse,” he murmurs as he pulls out of the parking spot.

My knee begins to bounce as he drives, my nerves getting the best of me.

Should we really be doing this? Is this the right call? Is the inheritance really worth the possibility of ruining our friendship?

When his hand lands on my thigh, I jump.

“You okay?” he asks as he squeezes my leg.

I look around and see that we are stopped at a stoplight before I turn toward him. “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it just hit me that I’m about to be someone’s wife.”

A smile crosses his face, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “You’re about to be my wife.”

Something about that simple statement sets my body on fire.

Jesus, do I have a “my wife” kink?

I clear my throat. “And you’re going to be my husband.”

He hums and squeezes my leg again. “I can’t wait.”

Before I know it, we are pulling into the courthouse parking lot.

“Stay there.”

Before I can say anything, Beckett jumps out and runs to my side of the car. First, he opens the back door and grabs something before he opens mine.

“You really don’t have to do that, you know.”

He shrugs. “I wanted to. These are for you.”

I gasp as I take what he’s holding out. “Beckett…”

The bouquet is beautiful with white roses, some soft pink flowers I don’t know the name of. With the pops of green, it’s truly beautiful. I can’t say it’s something I would have picked out for myself, but it’s perfect for a wedding.

Much to my dismay, tears gather in the corner of my eyes. Damn this man. Never in my life has someone given me flowers. I’ve never even bought any for myself because I’ve always felt like they should come from someone else.

“Every bride deserves flowers on her wedding day.” He shrugs as if it’s not a big deal when we both know it is.

I open my mouth, but no words come out. I’m speechless. Time and time again, this man surprises me.

“We better head inside, or we will be late,” he says.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

I expect him to drop my hand like before, but Beckett surprises me by weaving his fingers through mine. Side by side, we walk toward the courthouse and make our way up the steps.

“This is your last chance to back out,” I tell him as we approach the front doors.

Beckett pulls me to a stop. “Peyton, look at me.” When my eyes meet his, he continues. “The only way I’m not walking in there with you is if you tell me you don’t want to, so have you changed your mind?”

I shake my head as I lick my lips. “No.”

His hand squeezes mine. “Then let’s do this.”

He reaches for the door handle, and we step inside.

Somehow Beckett knows exactly where to go.

It almost feels like I’m doing this for him and not the other way around.

When the lady behind the desk asks what she can do for us, he tells her that he scheduled an appointment for us, catching me off guard.

An appointment?

I hadn’t even thought to call ahead.

Only when she asks for our driver’s licenses and birth certificates does he let go of my hand. Filling out the paperwork goes by in a blur, and we are told to wait our turn.

“Good to see you both,” Mr. Piper says as we turn around to find a seat.

I look to Beckett.

“He needs to be the witness anyway, and we couldn’t ask any of our friends,” he whispers into my ear.

“Good to see you, Mr. Piper.” I clear my throat.

“I’m glad you changed your mind. When I saw you two, I could tell there was something there, so there should be no question as to the validity of the marriage. Why don’t we have a seat?”

As we sit down, our names are called, making me feel like I am going to throw up.

“Are you two ready?” the woman asks.

“Yes,” we say in unison.

She gives us a warm smile. “Do you want to walk down the aisle toward your groom, or would you like to walk in with us? Maybe your father would like to walk you?” She looks to Mr. Piper.

I look up at Beckett. “I never thought about it. What do you think?”

His eyes soften. “Whatever you are more comfortable with. You can walk down toward me, or we can make this walk together.”

Together.

Something about that word hits me, and I realize that I’m really not doing this alone. I’m doing it with him.

“I like the idea of doing this together,” I tell him.

“I’ll go take a seat. I’m only here as their witness,” Mr. Piper tells the woman, letting her lead him into the hall.

“Come on in as soon as you are ready,” she tells us.

“We are really doing this,” I whisper.

“Yes, we are,” he whispers back.

Then he opens the door, taking a step inside.

We watch as the judge takes his place at the front of the room and nods. The music starts up, making me smile. It’s a nice touch. Side by side, Beckett and I walk toward him. With each step, the tension between us grows. When we come to a stop in front of the judge, we turn toward each other.

Everything the judge says I tune out. Not because I’m freaking out or because I’m bored, but because I’m lost in the intense way Beckett is looking at me. Over the time I’ve known him, I’ve seen him stare at me with desire, humor, and frustration.

Never with the intense longing that I see in his face now.

In a way it reminds me of the way Clay looks at Grace, but that can’t be right, could it?

Clay loves Grace. There’s no way Beckett could love me.

He squeezes my hand, and I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I, Beckett, take you, Peyton, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, until death do us part.” The seriousness in which he speaks settles over me like a weighted blanket, offering me a level of peace I didn’t know was possible.

I smile as he slips another paper ring onto my finger.

“Paper rings,” I murmur as I look up at him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get us both real ones, but I thought these would be fitting for today.” He winks as he reaches into his pocket.

“Let me hold that, dear,” Mr. Piper says, nodding toward my flowers.

Reluctantly, I hand them over and take the homemade ring from Beckett.

“Now repeat after me,” the judge says.

I repeat the words very carefully as I stare Beckett in the eye. I know this might be fake, and he might be doing me a favor, but I hope he knows how seriously I’m taking this. That as long as we are friends and doing this, I’ll be by his side.

“Until death do us part,” I say as I slip the ring onto his finger.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Beckett doesn’t even wait until the judge is finished giving his blessing before his lips are covering mine.

I don’t know if it’s because of where we are or the vows we took, but the way Beckett holds my face between his palms and the way he kisses me feels different.

It feels real, and right, and perfect, and that scares me half to death.

My heart races as we walk out of the courthouse.

Holy shit.

I’m married.

Peyton is my wife. My wife.

I look over at her and see she’s looking straight ahead, looking calm as ever. She must feel my eyes on her because she looks over at me and smiles.

I’m grateful to be alone at this moment. As soon as Mr. Piper signed as our witness, he claimed to have business elsewhere in the courthouse and left us.

I look down at the beautiful woman standing next to me.

“So, that just happened,” she jokes, making us both laugh.

“Now what happens?” I quip.

She scrunches up her nose. “Well, if this were a romance book, right about now, someone would drop a baby on your doorstep just to throw us for a loop.”