“I’m mapping that out now,” he says, again with the quiet competence. “Okay. Got it. Their office isn’t too far from here.”
“More good news,” I chirp. “Nobody wants to sit in traffic on their wedding day.”
Bridger peers down at me. “I was thinking we'd probably just handle the paperwork and appointment today and do the ceremony tomorrow. I know we said ASAP, but even that’s still extremely fast.”
“Sure. Yes.” I flinch. “Of course."
He takes a beat, studying my face. Almost like he’s looking inside my brain. Like he knows me that well. “Are you all right?” he asks.
“I think so.” I squeeze out a shaky laugh. “Sorry if I’m being weird, but this whole situation is weird. Like, really weird.” Emphasis on really.
Also, my plan, though.
“It is weird,” he says, his eyes soft. “So we’ll both probably feel better once we get Sayla and Dex on board. Right now, this is such a huge thing, and no one else even knows.”
“She just texted me, by the way.”
“Sayla? Yeah, I saw that. Dex texted me too, at the same time. Wanted to know how you were doing.”
“Simultaneous spousal check-ins,” I say.
“Exactly.” His lips curve. “I should text him back.”
I bob my head, which feels a bit like it’s stuffed with cotton. “What are you going to say?”
“WhatshouldI say?”
I blow out a breath. “I honestly have no idea.”
Bridger’s phone pings again, and he checks the new text. “Dex and Sayla want to meet us for lunch after they finish up at Stony Peak. One o’clock. Fig & Apple.”
My mouth slips into anO.
Then my stomach growls.
“Welp.” Bridger chuckles. “That kind of feels like a sign.”
“Their wanting to meet us? Or my stomach growling?”
“Both,” he says. “We can fill them in on our plan and recruit them while we eat.”
“I hope the Fig can handle it.”
Bridger sends a reply. “Okay, we’re on. Officially ripping the wedding Band-Aid off in three hours.” When he looks up, his gaze is pointed. “That gives us time to run by the Register of Deeds. If you’re ready.”
My pulse picks up.
Am I ready?
Do I have a choice?
The answer to both questions is probably no. But this was my idea. And anyway, Bridger and I are out of other options.
“I should change first,” I say, hauling myself up off the couch. “Unhinged Bride Wears Pajamas willnotbe a caption in the nextHarvest Hollow Happenings.”
Bridger arches a brow. “Once we’re married, I’ll keep you safe from all the local gossip sites, kitten.”
I bite back a smirk, even as my cheeks begin to heat. “You’re really trying to make the kitten thing happen, huh?”