Page 312 of The First Taste

I shrug and check my watch. "Who knows? I’m not really interested in how other people go about planning a wedding. If it’s not obvious, I am as emotionally invested in this wedding as I am in who the upcoming contestants on The Bachelor will be. That is to say, I don’t care at all."

"Not even for show?"

"Sure. But that can be arranged by Rob. Trust me, he will ensure that every last detail of our sham wedding is perfect. Now, if you are ready, I think we should be expecting the justice of the peace to walk through those doors at any moment."

Right as I say that, I hear the elevator humming to life, the car rising to our floor. Talia licks her lips and straightens her dress, her lips twisting.

"Should I change?" She looks down at her dress, her expression disapproving. "I’m not really in wedding attire."

"Why would you need to do that?" I ask. I start walking toward the elevator. "I’m having the justice sign a non-disclosure agreement. You’re fine the way you are. We're just going to do this as quickly as possible. No muss, no fuss. We’re just saying the right words so that the justice will fill out a form, more or less."

Her lips twist but she just shrugs. "Okay. Whatever you say."

"That’s a good girl," I say with a smirk. "Now let’s go greet the justice."

Twenty-Nine

Dare

The justice of the peace is a dark-skinned young man in a black shirt, black pants, and the little white collar that indicates he’s a priest. He looks no older than Talia, but I honestly wouldn’t care if he was the man in the fucking moon. He’s just here to perform the mumbo-jumbo ritual aspect and marry us in the most official sense. He introduces himself as Reverend Terry and doesn’t seem put off by my hurried attitude.

"Before I begin, I typically like to ask the two people that I am marrying a question. Is there anything that you want to say to the other person? Is there anything that the other person should know? This is the last chance for you to tell each other anything before I make you man and wife. So…" He waves a hand at me and Talia. I take Talia’s arm, my lips thinning.

Talia looks up at me, her eyes curious. "Is there anything that you want to tell me before we tie the knot?"

I chuckle at that. "I think you know pretty much everything there is to know about me, Talia. I’m not a good man. But you already know that. Isn’t that right?"

She flushes and looks away. "Let’s not get into all of that right now."

"No, let’s not. Is there anything that you need to tell me?"

Her gaze drops, and she hesitates for a moment then shakes her head. "I can’t think of anything. Like you said, you already know what there is to know about me. At least, all the things I have tried to hide."

I give her a tight-lipped smile. “Let’s get this show on the road then. The sooner we start, the sooner this all ends.”

Reverend Terry looks at us, an expression of concern on his face. But I grip Talia’s arm and smile at him, waiting him to proceed.

"All right." He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it. "Do you, Talia Chance take Dare Morgan to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Talia swallows and nods, managing a small yes. She doesn’t look at me; her eyes are fixed on some point in the distance. But I am not asking her to act right now. As long as I get her consent, I’m perfectly happy with it.

The Reverend clears his throat. "Okay. And do you…"

I cut him off. "Yes, I do."

As he looks between us, his brow furrows and descends. But like everybody else in my life, he has been paid for his discretion and willingness to perform the ceremony.

He sucks in a breath, looking at both of us. "By the power granted to me by the Lord above and the state of Vermont, I hereby marry you. You may kiss the bride."

I lean in close to Talia, briefly pressing my lips against hers. When I pull back, she grabs at my lapel and tries to prolong the kiss. But I pull back giving her a sharp look.

"Can we sign the marriage certificate now?" I direct my attention to the Reverend.

Talia flushes. The Reverend looks at both of us, gives his head the tiniest shake, and then produces a copy. Then he hands me the original and bows his head. "There you go. Congratulations on your nuptials."

I arch a brow. "Thank you. Now if you don’t mind, you can see yourself out."

His cheeks puff out and he gives me an annoyed look, flapping both sides of his blazer as he buttons them. Soon enough though, he goes down the stairs, the door swinging closed with a slam.