When I turn around, I head straight over to Carver, avoiding the man glaring at me from the darkest corner of the room. Carver jumps to his feet, moving in front of the door.
I barrel into him, wrapping my arms around him too.
He holds his hands over his head, not sure what to do, but that’s okay. I’ll take the lead. Somehow I know it’s because no one has ever shown him physical love.
“Thank you for always watching over me.”
“I didn’t think you noticed,” he says, slowly dropping his arms and lightly placing them around me. He gives me a few awkward pats on the back, and then I release him, not wanting to overwhelm him too much the first time.
“Well, I did … do.” I place my hand on his cheek and then take a step back. “I guess that makes us best friends.”
The real Carver grins at me. “I told you we were going to be friends.”
Someone opens the door behind him, and the mask quickly falls back in place. Wolfe was right, the bar is slowly filling up. We step to the side as a few more club members filter in.
“I better …” I point to the corner.
“I can feel his scowl, can you?” he asks.
“I can.” We both chuckle. “I’ll see you later.”
He nods.
I take a deep breath and turn around, my eyes instantly clashing with Rage’s dark stormy ones. No wonder I didn’t approach him last time.
But this time I’m going to live a little.
I walk over and thrust my hand out. “I’m Serenity. You don’t know me, but I’m looking for Chase Turner. The men over there …” I pause to point over my shoulder, “told me you were the one and only.”
His scowl deepens, and I almost retreat, but not this time.
I’m choosing love.
“No one uses my government name but my wife.”
“Oh,” I say. My heart takes a little dip, but I don’t get discouraged. “What should I call you then?”
He pushes his phone across the table, showing me a video. His finger presses play with a bit of a dramatic flair.What is this about?
I watch as the club’s chaplain stands beside my hospital bed. Then the camera pans to Rage and me.
“Did you marry me while I was in a coma?” I ask, grabbing his phone and pulling it to my face for a closer look.
“If you were going to the other side, you were going as my fucking wife. Period.”
My mouth falls open, and I stare at him. “I don’t remember this part.”
“You don’t remember because you were unconscious, but don’t worry. We’ll do it again.”
I fall to the seat beside him. “No, I mean, I remember you were always by my bed. I watched you, but …” I scratch my head. Maybe I was dreaming, because why would I have missed this part? It’s literally my wedding.
I watch Carver once again wrap his hand around mine, signing what I’m assuming is a marriage license.
“Carver’s been your proxy,” he explains.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not legal,” I say, frowning.
He scoots close and wraps his arm around me. “Does your head hurt? We should get you home.”