Page 13 of Rough Return

The clerk stared at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. “There is a three-day waiting period from the time of application until marriage license issuance. State law. And unless you have a special circumstance, there’s nothing I can do.”

Grier stood beside her silent, probably thinking this was his lucky day. “Special circumstance?”

“Deployment?”

Fiona wasn’t waiting three days. “Hang on.” For most of her life, she’d fought her father’s influence, hated that he could get anything he wanted with nothing more than a phone call. Now, in this minute, she counted on that influence. Three damned days, her ass.

She took Grier’s hand and pulled him out of the clerk’s office to the hallway. “What are you doing?”

“We aren’t waiting three days. Screw that.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Can’t wait to be my bride. I like it.”

She frowned, not willing to give him any more fuel with an agreement or argument. “My dad might not have three days left. You said yourself, it’s his dying wish to see me married.”

And that shut him right up. After a ridiculous rooting around one-handed in her purse for her cell, she let go of Grier to dig with both hands. She found it and dialed. Judge Samuels would help. He’d always liked her dad, and more than once he’d helped the club out of some sticky situations.

She took a minute when he answered to explain the situation. Using her dad as her excuse felt a little too far on the wrong side of morbid, but no other explanation would have convinced him. Plus, she couldn’t give Grier any wiggle room to get out of their arrangement.

Finally, Samuels assured her it would be taken care of then he wished her a hearty congratulations, a solemn measure of sympathy for Max, and they hung up. “All right. Got it done.”

“And no bloodshed. Nice.”

“What makes you think you’re worth bloodshed?” Probably, he was. God toyed with her like that.

“Try me.” Not quite a dare but close enough. And two could play that way.

She moved in close enough her breasts grazed his chest as she whispered, “You wish,” then moved away.

He didn’t reply, and his eyes glazed. Oh, yeah. She’d hit her mark. Pure feminine power, like nothing she’d ever felt before rushed through her. Intoxicating. Fresh. Exhilarating.

After a quiet moment, he grinned. “You reading my mind is going to save us a lot of time talking.”

“Doesn’t take much to read you, Grier. You’re transparent. Kind of like glass.” She smiled, smug, but as nervous as she’d ever been before in her life. In a few minutes or an hour, but by the end of the day, for certain, she would be married to Grier.

She sighed and clasped her shaking hands behind her back.

“Yeah?” He closed his eyes. “What am I thinking right now?”

Oh, good Lord. How the hell was she supposed to know? But she’d let her mouth write a check and now he wanted it cashed. She sighed again. Deeper. Longer. “You’re thinking that if I walk away while your eyes are closed, you’ll never know.”

He widened his eyes and let his mouth hang open for a second. “Holy shit. You really are a psychic.”

And he was charming her into a sense of security she didn’t have any business feeling. “Stop. Let’s get this done and get it over with.”

He fanned himself with his hand. “You’re such a sweet-talker, Fifi.”

She’d taken a few steps away but stopped and turned. “What?”

If ever a man could wipe away his expression and transform himself into a picture of innocence, it was Grier. “I said, you’re such a sweet-talker.”

He damned well knew what she meant. “Do not, if you value walking upright with a dick between your legs, do not ever call me Fifi.”

His lips twitched, and he cleared his throat. “But Fif… pet names are important in marriage. Endearments let the other person know you feel intimate toward them. It’s healthy.” He grinned. “And I’m dying to get intimate with you.”

“Keep it up and you’re gonna be dying.” If he didn’t knock off all the teasing, he wasn’t going to live long enough to need to find a pet name for her. But threats weren’t likely to sway him. She nodded. “Fine. Call me Fifi. And I’ll call you…” She tapped her chin with her index finger. “Tiny.” She added a suggestive look at his crotch.

He threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and vibrant, full of legit humor. “Want to check for yourself?”