Page 6 of Not Your Romeo
They weren’t squinting, or grumpy, or glistening with rage. They were sympathetic and it gave me confidence, until Sean cleared his throat, and I glanced toward the sound.
The sea of strange faces staring back at me instantly drained the warmth from my cheeks.
“You must say that you—” Father McDaniels started to hiss in that way he sometimes did at me in the confession booth, and my hands started to shake.
Wyatt collected them in his, and reached for my jaw, steering my attention, and wide-eyed gaze back to him.
“Do you want to marry me?”
Nobody had bothered to ask me, and I didn’t expect anyone would. Hearing the question out loud kind of knocked me for a second loop.
“I– want to get the fuck out of here– With you.” I urgently whispered back, causing McDaniels to suck in a breath.
Wyatt grunted.
My legs shook and I inwardly fought the urge to move before I passed out in front of God and everyone.
“She does,” Wyatt loudly announced to the crowd, before quietly snapping at the priest, “Let’s have them rings.”
“Aye,” McDaniels bobbed his head furiously and fetched them off the nearby stand.
I swallowed hard and watched him slide the ring over my knuckle. I tried to control the shaking so I wouldn’t drop his ring when it was my turn. The sight of his hand was something I hadn’t expected, and apparently, neither had McDaniels.
He sucked in a gentle breath as Wyatt extended it, revealing a perfect revolver tattooed down his hand. The barrel extended the length of his first two fingers and made me smile appreciatively. It was gorgeous art. The shading was highly detailed and worked with his tendons to really make the design pop. His ring and pinky finger contained the letters FI and a quick peek at the other hand confirmed my suspicion, Semper was spelled out on it.
So, Wyatt was a biker president and a marine. Somehow, I found my new husband hotter with every detail I discovered.
I got the ring in place, and when I looked up at him, he flashed a tiny, grateful smile.
I was still trying not to snort at McDaniels’ reaction to the ink, his eyes had even bugged a little. To be fair, though, it may have had more to do with the many skulls covering Wyatt’s arms than the words or the firearm.
“Very good. Then I pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt Nash. You may kiss your bride.”
Nash.
My name was Nash now?
Did he just tell this man to kiss me?
My brain fired in so many directions, and then that pistol-stained paw came up, claimed my cheek and all my thoughts melted away. I got goosebumps and clenched clean to my core when he came in close.
His peck to the opposite cheek, however, was like a cold bucket of water on my feral heartbeat.
Chapter Five
Chariot Out of Hell
Ziggy
I hooked my arm around her and steered my wobbly bride right off the six-inch podium Sean had erected for the flock of strangers. I figured it was for their benefit, because it sure as shit didn’t appear to be for mine or hers.
Sauce flew down the row and side hugged me when I made it to them.
“Congrats, both of you,” he excitedly rambled, clearly not comprehending the situation.
Talon cleared his throat, and Cane placed a silent hand of greeting on my shoulder as I urged the four of them back toward the mansion.
“Yeah. We’re thrilled. Listen, I know you guys are countin’ on a reception or whatever Sean promised. The truth is, I’m not staying.”
