Back to the issue at hand: marrying Emmett.
The marriage license had a seventy-two-hour waiting period. If they applied today... She counted the days on her fingers. They’d be good to go by Christmas Eve. The question was, could she find someone to marry them at the last minute on a holiday?
She opened her email app and pecked out a correspondence to the woman who ran the B and B where Stef had made her reservations.
Hi, Margaret,
Do you know anyone who could marry a couple on Christmas Eve?
She watched out the windshield, considering the timing of the charity dinner. It was a six o’clock dinner, and even with cleanup she’d be out of there by ten o’clock. Once they returned to the B and B, changed into whatever wedding attire she was able to scrounge up in the three-day gap between license and “I do,” that’d mean...
Preferably midnight, she typed. As Christmas Eve turns to Christmas day.
She smiled to herself as she finished the email. Married at midnight on Christmas day. Could it be more perfect?
She slanted a glance at Emmett and frowned. Maybe perfect was overshooting it. She hoped he could summon up an expression other than “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” for a few of the photos.
She should probably make sure Emmett didn’t have a secret wife or girlfriend first. He kept his personal life in Stef’s blind spot. She knew him in relation only to what he did at the mayor’s office, and even then it looked to her like a bunch of walking around while wearing a starched white button-down shirt and a stern expression.
“Do you date?”
Emmett snapped his head around, a look of incredulity on his face. “What?”
“Date. Do you date?”
If she wasn’t mistaken, he squirmed in his seat.
“Women. Men. Anyone?”
“Women.” His frown intensified.
“Are you dating anyone right now?”
He said nothing, both hands on the wheel in an elbows-locked position.
“Why?” he finally muttered.
It seemed too early to blurt out that she wanted to marry him. She’d have to ease into that request.
“Just making conversation. I never see you with anyone whenever you’re at a family function.”
“That’s work.”
“You can’t work all the time.”
“I can. I do.”
Yeah, this was getting her nowhere.
“Your head is the perfect shape. Not everyone can wear their hair that short.”
“The deep car chatter continues.”
“I’m just saying, I’m sure you can find a date even though your personality is basically the worst.”
His shoulders jumped in what might have been a laugh, but no smile yet.
Shesmiled, enjoying a challenge. “So? Do you date?”