I don’t knowwhat one wears to a courthouse marriage, but Beau gave me twenty minutes, and it took nine of those minutes to drive there. After a two-minute shower, I pulled my hair up into a wet bun, threw on a Wrench Kings t-shirt, then a long-sleeved flannel–the one with the least amount of stains and holes–some black jeans, my boots, and snagged my leather jacket.
I don’t wear my jacket out a lot, seeing as how Beau always wears his. I ain’t trying to look like me and my best buddy are twinning because that’s some girly shit. But I know what his jacket means to him so I wear mine today, too, in an effort to be the brother that neither of us had.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirrored courthouse doors as I approach. My beard is filling out, my clothes are rumpled, and when I reach for the door, I see stains of oil and grease collecting in the calluses on my hands. Dirt collects in strips beneath my nails and my boots are fuckin’ filthy. I’m wearing my good jeans, and yet, they’re torn at both knees and frayed at the hem.
Never felt an ounce of insecurity about myself in my life. I am who I am, and I firmly believe that what the outside looks like has no bearing on someone’s insides. I learned it the hard way; losing Mere.
When my eyes lock on Goldie, and I see she’s wearing a floor length satin skirt, a deep slit exposing the flesh of one of her trim thighs, a white fitted top tracing the curves of her small breasts, her silky hair in a neat, styled bun on top of her head… It's the first time I feel underwhelmed with myself.
But when she discovers me approaching, her eyes eating up every fuckin’ inch of me, that insecurity fades away. I recognize the look in her eye because it’s the same in mine. Raw desire. Pure want. Unexplainable pull. She shares those things with me, I can fuckin’ feel it.
“Thank you for coming, Atticus, I’m sorry it was such short notice,” Beck beams, pulling me down for a hug. She’s on her toes, wearing a white silk gown. It ain’t fancy, just a white dress, but she looks incredible. It's the smile she’s wearing, not the dress, that tells me today is the best goddamn day of her life.
It makes me look over at Goldie as I hug Beck. Her cheeks flush as she smiles at me, turning her focus to Beau rather quickly.
“Sure,” she says, finishing a conversation I walked up to and missed. “Give me the rings and I’ll wait here.”
Beau kisses Goldie’s cheek, and Beck loops her arm through his. “Be back!” she chirps, and then they’re walking off, joining a line of about ten people.
Goldie turns to me, wearing traces of her smile. “They’re getting the permit. Then we just wait for the courthouse appointment.” Her eyes go to the watch on her wrist. “Twenty minutes.”
I grunt and let my eyes fall down the front of her blouse. “You look…” the word hot is on my tongue, but it feels underwhelming for what looking at Goldie does to me. “Fuckin’ gorgeous,” I say finally, still not sure those words are right. And then her hotness gives me a wild idea I can’t ignore.
“Can I talk to you privately?” I whisper to her as she stashes a maroon jewelry box into the purse hanging from her shoulder. She looks up at me, a ripple of confusion on her brow.
“Where?” She looks around the bustling courthouse.
I glance down the long corridor and spot a sign pointed around the corner. Bathrooms. “Down there, around the corner, where it’s quiet.”
She grins at me, and I hate myself. I dragged her out of a perfectly good date, ate her out against my truck, then left. She deserves so much fuckin’ more. “Sure,” she agrees, and I feel guilty because after what I pulled, she should be angry with me. But she’s not, and it sends me further down the rabbit hole with dizzying force.
We reach the end of the hall, and her features are so soft in the partial shadows. Her plump lips pert and eyes focused with determination. My heart cranks beneath my ribs, and my fingers drum against my palms as the corners of my vision gets weird.
God damnit.
I grab her wrist and yank her inside the bathroom, locking the door behind us. With her back to the door, I use my forearms to cage her in, even though I’m the one acting like an animal.
That’s who I am around her. A man who has been reduced to his most primal form; everything between my legs pulses and grows hard for her, and everything in my torso connects to her. My dislike for words and humans is met by her ability to talk to anyone, making all situations completely fuckin’ easy. Where she flourishes in the knowledge of business and her ability to navigate people, my strengths lie in my capable hands and ability to fix virtually anything. I cannot believe I’m fuckin’ thinkin’ like this, but… she does feel like the other part I’ve been waiting for, the person to level me out and make me whole.
God damnit.
“What’re you doing?” Her breath is warm and sweet against my mouth, face turned up to mine. Her lids are heavy, and my eyes drop to her chest, eating up every inch of velvety cleavage she has on display. She’s got those palmfuls in some sort of push-up bra thing, and I just want to rip it off her and suck on her little tits until I cum.
“You’re worth more than what you give yourself,” I rasp, my voice shaking with emotion. I’m fuckin’ emotional? What the fuck? I clear my throat and force a robust tone. “You deserve better.”
Her bottom lip trembles a bit, and I don’t know if it’s my proximity or my words, but she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls my mouth down to hers. Our kiss is short, but it awakens every part of me.
I want to tell her right then that she should be mine. That I would never let anyone hurt her, that I would hold her and care for her and call her on her shit but build her up, too. That I could be the voice of inner strength, that I can be the man she needs, even if she doesn’t even know she needs it.
But someone pounds on the door and our mouths come apart.
“Hey, I gotta take a leak!” An angry-sounding man calls. Our eyes linger, she swallows, and I place my thumb on her throat to feel her pulse. It’s frantic and racing.
Just like mine.
Twisting the lock, we step out, and an angry man in a cheap suit is standing at the threshold. He looks between us and rolls his eyes before shoving inside. Goldie giggles as we turn the corner, but before we can finish our talk or do anything–Beck’s there.
She holds up a piece of paper, her eyes clearly wet. “It’s done! Now let’s go make it official with witnesses and a judge.” Looping her arm through Goldie’s, they walk off, and I just watch them in some sort of trance.