So she simply said, “I’ll let you know when I have any information about the license.”
“Till then,” he said and disconnected the call.
Harper kept the cell in her hand an extra minute, wondering why she’d flaked from discussing their potential love life.
And, more importantly, what she would decide to do once she was finally confronted with the option of having Nick Tate in her bed.
* * *
Friday morning Nick arrived at his own wedding at city hall, hoping like all hell that his bride would turn up. She’d agreed to the plan, but reluctantly, so he wouldn’t have been completely surprised if she’d changed her mind.
Harper had managed to fast-track their civil ceremony and had phoned earlier in the week to share details, but it had been a short call. Just the details.
His gut had been in knots all morning thinking about whether she’d changed her mind. He’d shot off a text saying, Everything okay for today? and she’d replied Yes, which was somewhat reassuring, but he wouldn’t relax until the vows were said and his ring was on her finger.
Squaring his shoulders, he walked into the small, carpeted waiting room and found her there, looking elegant, and his entire body practically sighed in relief. She wore a knee-length dove-gray skirt with a white silk blouse, her hair fell in dark, glossy waves down her back and her lips were painted a soft pink. He’d never seen anyone more beautiful.
“Late to your own wedding?” said a familiar voice beside him. Nick scowled at the interruption and turned to his brother, who was making a mock-concerned face. “Gee, I don’t know, Harper. I think you could probably do better. Find someone who prioritizes you and your wedding enough to arrive on time.”
“I’m not late. In fact, we’re all early.” Nick saw his mother beside Malcolm and stepped past his twin to embrace her. “Thanks for coming on short notice.”
When he’d called with the news, she’d been staying with her sister in Dallas and had to come home a day early. He’d put a lot of thought into how to tell his mother and decided that the truth would break her heart—she and his father had enjoyed a strong, loving marriage, and the last thing she’d want for her one of her boys was a loveless union. So he’d stretched the truth a little and told her that he’d been seeing Harper for months and left out any reference to the fact they were embarking on a marriage of convenience. Even though his mother had admitted to some surprise, she’d clearly interpreted the story as a whirlwind romance and was thrilled about both the wedding and the babies.
She patted his tie. “Of course I came. I had to meet the woman crazy enough to marry you.”
“Jesus, Mom,” Nick said and shot a glance at Harper. His mother and brother’s humor didn’t always translate well to strangers, but thankfully Harper was chuckling. He shook his head. “So much for family support.”
“It’s okay, honey,” his mother said. “Harper and I have had a few moments to chat. I like her. And your father, bless his soul, would have liked her, too.”
Nick lifted a fist to his heart to push against the pressure that always came with the mention of his father. It had been nine years since he’d died, and they all still missed him like crazy. But today the grief was complicated by something else as well—by his mother giving a blessing on behalf of his dad. It was bad enough lying to one parent, but he felt like he was deceiving both of them now.
He managed to hold back the flinch and hoped any reaction she saw would be attributed to simply missing his father on his wedding day. He found a smile and said, “Thanks, Mom.”
“Now,” she said, reverting to her teasing tone, “are those for me?” She pointed to the bouquet in his hand that he’d forgotten he was carrying.
Not bothering to reply to more ribbing, he handed them to Harper. “I wasn’t sure if you were getting one, so I figured I’d pick this up just in case.”
“Thank you. That was very sweet,” she said and gently touched the petals of the cream and pale pink flowers. “They’re beautiful.”
She snapped off one cream rose and threaded the stem into the top buttonhole of his suit jacket. As she adjusted it, her tongue peeked out, the tip coming to rest against her top lip. His skin heated. If they weren’t surrounded by people—including his mother and brother—he’d pull her close and kiss that lip. She glanced up when she finished and must have seen the thought in his eyes, because her breath hitched. He held back a groan—her reaction certainly wasn’t going to help rein in his own response.
Straightening his spine, with his gaze on hers so she understood, he stepped back.
“You know,” Malcolm whispered as Harper turned away to talk to their mother, “this act for Mom is so good even I’m starting to buy it.”
“Don’t get carried away by the sight of a bouquet and a celebrant.”
“Don’t get carried away? Hang on—you know this is a real, legally binding ceremony, right?”
“Harper and I have talked it through. We have no illusions about romance. We’re doing what’s right.”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “Do the two things have to be mutually exclusive?”
“Just tell me you have the rings.”
Malcolm grinned. “I have the rings. The rings that symbolize your commitment—mind, body and soul—to this woman.”
Nick prayed for the strength not to murder his brother on his own wedding day and turned to talk to his mother and Harper.
Ten minutes later, they were shown into another room, where a waiting city official greeted them and checked that they had two witnesses, rings and the paperwork.
Nick glanced around. This simple, practical ceremony was nothing like his first wedding to his high school sweetheart. That had been a big, white wedding—more of a spectacle than anything. He’d been uncomfortable being the center of attention, but he would have done anything for Melissa back when he’d thought in terms of forevers and true loves.
And yet, despite its lack of trappings—or maybe because of it—there was something so very real about this ceremony. He gave himself a shake. He couldn’t lose sight of the facts—this arrangement was strictly practical. A way to solve all the issues that had arisen from Harper’s pregnancy and his custody case, nothing more.
The formalities were surprisingly short, which suited him because he didn’t want to linger, and since neither of them had written their own vows, the rite was even more streamlined.
Then, when they exchanged rings, something shifted inside him. The slow, ritualized movement of their hands carried meaning, carried weight that he hadn’t suspected. It was as if the air around them was thick, insulating them, holding them, drawing them closer. He’d told his brother that he wouldn’t get carried away, and yet he was in danger of doing exactly that.
And, curiously, from the flicker of emotion in Harper’s eyes, she wasn’t unaffected by the act of placing her ring on his left hand and having his slide down her finger, either.
But the time passed quickly, and soon they were being congratulated—his mother hugging them both, Malcolm slapping him on the back and shaking his hand. Through it all Nick was torn between accepting the congratulations in the spirit they were offered and feeling bad about deceiving his mother. He settled on allowing himself to feel satisfied that the plan had come together.
“So,” Malcolm said and checked his watch, “it’s almost noon. How about we get some lunch to celebrate?”
“Great idea.” His mother looped her