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On the drive from Colorado, I’d been tempted more than once to turn around and never look back. To run and hide. Except I’d made a promise to a perfect stranger, a man I’d known only hours. I wouldn’t break my word.
A man walked out from the garage, striding to a black bike that didn’t gleam like the others. It was the only motorcycle in the row I’d ridden. Isaiah. A name that had been haunting my thoughts for days.
I was marrying a stranger today. I was marrying the man who’d saved my life. It was my turn to return the favor and save his.
This was not how I’d imagined getting married. This was not special. I was in a green dress because I didn’t want to wear white when this marriage was a farce. I didn’t know my fiancé’s middle name or how he liked to be kissed. I didn’t know if he drank coffee or what side of the bed he slept on.
“Then by the authority vested in me by the great state of Montana, I pronounce you husband and wife. I wish you the best of luck in your marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds.” Marriage. It was done.
Isaiah was safe. No one in the world could make me tell them what had happened at that cabin in the mountains. Because now, I was his wife.
The last woman I’d kissed was the woman I’d killed. Not exactly the thought a groom wants flashing through his mind as he’s standing across from his bride.
Why were my lips still burning? No matter how many times I wiped them, the feel of hers remained. Maybe because I hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time. Six years, one month, two weeks and four days, to be exact.
Thinking about her was painful. Each beat of my heart pricked. My lungs burned. I’d married Genevieve when my soul was held captive by a ghost.
The metal band on my ring finger bit into my palm as I gripped the handlebars. It was cheap metal, the only thing I could afford after buying Genevieve’s ring. She’d saved my life today, and for that, she deserved much more than the chip I’d slid onto her finger. But she’d seemed to like it. She’d stared at the halo of diamonds in awe.
I’d do right by her. I’d be respectful and honest. Fake marriage or not, I wasn’t a guy who strayed. I’d do my best to make this easy for her. And I wouldn’t fail Genevieve—not like I’d failed Shannon.
