Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(21)

And, being honest here, it wasn’t just panic I was feeling—about Eugene’s phone call, about having to ask Dan to marry me, about everything—it was also a little hurt. I knew Dan had moved on from any romantic feelings he may have had for me years ago. He’d moved on in a big way.

But his enthusiastic willingness to have me marry this guy he knew hurt my nutty, neurotic little heart. It didn’t make sense; it was especially wackadoodle that I had any anxiety to spare over hurt feelings considering my present dire circumstances. But there it was.

“Dan, I appreciate—”

Dan held up a finger. “Luis. This is a secure line? Good. I’m calling in the favor.”

Calling in the favor? What had Dan done for this guy? Donated sperm? A kidney? Bone marrow?

Unable to sit still, I stood and placed a staying hand on Dan’s elbow. His gaze flickered to mine and he slid his arm back, entwining our fingers. He brought the back of my hand to his chest, just over his heart.

My stomach did a somersault. I tried to ignore it and mostly succeeded.

“Listen, I need a marriage certificate backdated to a month ago. Don’t worry about—what was that?”

I stood close enough to hear the man on the other side of the call ask, “Is the couple married yet?”

“No.”

“Will they get married?”

“Yes. But it needs to look like it already happened.”

“No problem, man. I’ll need social security numbers, passport if you have it, birth certificate, current address, and a few other things. I’ll send you a list.”

Dan released a breath, giving me a quick smile. “Great. Give me the list and I’ll pull it together.”

I couldn’t keep up. I also couldn’t form thoughts and words now that he was holding my hand and pressing it to his chest. We were standing so close, he smelled so good, and apparently I was married a month ago.

“So how real does this need to look?” the man named Luis asked.

“Airtight.” Dan gave me a meaningful nod, his eyes sober. “As real as you can make it.”

“We have cameras at the courthouse. Your couple needs to come tomorrow and get the certificate. Then come back later, maybe next week, and see the officiant. Make sure you’re wearing different clothes. We can splice the tape to a month ago and change the time stamp.”

“We’ll do that.”

“Mr. Lee will officiate. He always wears the same damn suit every day.” Luis chuckled. So did Dan.

I did not chuckle. I didn’t understand what was happening.

“We’ll make it look like they came in to get the certificate and then waited until the next day to get married. Video evidence should take care of any doubt about the legitimacy of the date.”

“Great. I owe you one.”

“No, man. I still owe you ten. I’ll text the list. Have them come see me tomorrow, we’ll get it sorted.”

After short salutations, Dan ended the call and gathered a deep breath. He stared at his phone’s screen for a long moment, like he was deep in thought.

I stopped breathing. I was having one of those out-of-body experiences people spoke of. Nothing made sense.

What just happened?

“Dan,” I ventured, my voice sounding very far away to my own ears.

His name on my lips drew his eyes to mine. I glanced at my hand where he held it pressed to his chest. He followed my eyes, then released me, giving me the impression he hadn’t realized he’d taken my hand to begin with.

Stepping away, he pulled his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “I’ll let Quinn know I need to skip the New York trip tomorrow morning, but Betty can reschedule that. Then we’ll need to find a day next week. I go to London tomorrow afternoon. We can change that flight to leave from Chicago, but I won’t be back until next Thursday. I guess Friday could work . . . ”

“Dan.” I wasn't going to let my brain draw any conclusions that weren’t independently and explicitly verified by the man standing in front of me. I would not allow myself to go there. I would not. I will not.

“And I just had that suit made,” he continued thoughtfully. “What size is your finger?”

“Dan.” My voice was even further away now, and I could barely hear it over the beating of my heart.

“Yeah?” He glanced at me, biting his bottom lip, his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, but who am I marrying?”

His eyebrows jumped and his eyes widened to their maximum diameter. “Me, of course.”

A short breath of wonder escaped my lungs, my knees not quite steady, as tears of ALL THE FEELINGS stung my eyes. I covered my mouth with a shaking hand and stared at him.