Page 154 of My Husband Problem
My heart flips, then drops into my stomach. “But I am not the princess. Not anymore. And I guess that’s why they’re wondering why we’re coming. The king annulled our marriage. He said it was all about him. His news about him and my grandfather is huge, Declan. That’s what everyone’s talking about. They figure we no longer have a reason to be together, especially for travel and public appearances as a couple.”
“Butyouknow there’s a very good reason.”
I feel his finger tipping my chin up and realize I’m focused on his collar.
His gaze is intense. “Right? You know that.”
I nod. I do, of course. But something doesn’tfeelright. We’re not married. After almost two years of being his wife, even when I thought it wasn’t what I wanted, I feel a little…unmoored. “I just feel strange,” I confess. “I’m not Astrid Olsen O’Grady at the moment.”
“But…” He scowls. “Okay, not officially. But youare. And you will be officially as soon as we get there.”
I decide to voice one of my concerns. “What if he won’t do it?”
“Why wouldn’t he?” But Declan’s scowl deepens.
“Because he’s him,” I say with a shrug. “It’s not like he’s the most predictable guy.”
“I’llmake himdo it.”
I laugh at that. “I appreciate the sentiment. But no onemakesDiarmuid doanything.”
Declan shoves a hand through his hair.
I quickly say what else is on my mind before I chicken out. “Do you maybe want to wait? Let what he told everyone blow over? Maybe you should stay here in Rebel for a while, and we can date and let everyone get used to the idea of us beingtogether for real before we ask him to marry us. If you stay here and we spend time together, then he’ll?—”
Suddenly, Declan cups the back of my head and kisses me.
Much the way I shut him up by kissing him the first night in the park, he successfully stops all my questions the same way now.
I immediately sag against him, fisting the front of his shirt, needing to keep him close. Now that everything has sunk in—what Diarmuid said, that our marriage is legally over, that we have to go to Cara and plead our case—I feel like, after all this time of trying to push him away, trying to get him to give up on us, I might actually lose him.
Declan kisses me thoroughly, then lifts his head. “I don’t want to wait. I want to be married to you,” he says firmly.
“I want to be married to you, too. What if he won’t do it? What if he feels so guilty about it that he refuses to be a part of putting us together?”
Declan cups my face with both hands and looks into my eyes.
“I choose you,” he says. “Iget to make that choice.Weget to make that choice. He doesn’t. No one else does. Us being together now has nothing to do with my grandfather, or your grandfather, or their marriage pact.” He takes a breath. The intensity in his gaze and voice gentles. “It also has nothing to do with creating a baby or forming another family. I can be completely happy right here like this with you. Even if all we do is adopt cats and ducks and Wilsons and Becketts.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “Well, we’re going to have animals and neighbors and hockey players regardless of the baby situation.”
He smiles and nods. “Thank God.” He runs both thumbs over my cheeks. “I have an idea.”
“I generally like your ideas.”
“Okay, come on.” He takes my hand and leads me downstairs, out the front door, and across my new porch. He leans on the now completely sturdy railing and calls across the yard. “Hey, Wilson?”
The older man is sitting on his porch, reading a book, drinking a glass of what looks like sweet tea, but could easily be whiskey.
“Hi, kids, what’s up?”
“Do you happen to have any friends who are judges in New Orleans? Judges who might rush a marriage license for a couple of great people who are really in love and who just can’t wait?”
My heart leaps. A marriage license and a judge in New Orleans?
Wilson’s grin is wide and quick. “As a matter of fact, I have three.”
Declan looks at me. “We’re getting married today. Before we go to Cara. We can have my grandfather bless it, but you’re going to be my wife. Our way, not his.”
