by Kayla Wolf
”Don’t think you’re off the hook just because this guy isn’t hideous.”
”Not hideous? If he came up to you in a bar, would you tell him to piss off?”
”I—maybe! It depends!” Jasmine pulled her cardigan around her shoulders, annoyed that she was blushing at the idea. But Elena could sense her weakness.
”Admit it. He’s exactly your type. I’ve seen the kinds of guys you drool over,” she said slyly. “I remember the Gym Membership.”
Jasmine groaned. The infamous story of the Gym Membership. There had been a trendy gym that opened up around the corner from Elena’s apartment—the kind of aggressively expensive place that targeted hipsters and slaves to trends, all chrome and glass and minimalist decor with emaciated women and muscle-bound men trotting smugly in and out from their thousand-dollar bikes and hundred-thousand-dollar cars. Elena and Jasmine had made fun of it every time they’d walked past it… until one day, heading past the gym on her way to Elena’s place, Jasmine had bumped into a muscle-bound Adonis who must have been a full foot taller than her. He’d glanced down at her and given her a distracted half-smile, his body still damp with perspiration, and his muscles rippling from what must have been a hard workout… and Jasmine, after watching him go, had headed straight into the gym to sign up.
Elena had found out, of course—she always found out that kind of thing. And she’d made fun of her for much, much longer than she’d attempted to visit the gym. On her third visit (at which point she already hated it more than even her workplace), she’d run into the guy again… and, to her dismay, his equally muscle-bound and gorgeous boyfriend. There had not been a fourth visit.
”Can’t believe you paid for a whole year,” Elena giggled.
”I was in it for the long haul! It’s not my fault I don’t have a gaydar—“
”Hey, at least you know this guy’s straight. And into you. I mean, he wants to get married! This is miles better than Gym Dude!”
”Gym Dude lived in this city. I ran into Gym Dude at the gym, not… on a website for maniacs.”
”Jasmine, what exactly do you have to lose here? You hate your job. You hate this city—you’re always planning your next holiday to somewhere with a beach. Look at his photo.” She tapped on Jasmine’s screen—sure enough, Bryce’s photo had the unmistakable backdrop of a rather beautiful—and sparsely populated—beach. The only thing better than a beach was a quiet beach. Elena really did know how to push Jasmine’s buttons. “What would be so wrong with moving across the country to see if this guy’s the real deal?”
She stared at Bryce’s face on the screen for a while, daring to let herself imagine the possibility seriously for the first time. She’d never admit it to Elena… but a part of her found the idea strangely thrilling. Just… quit her job, buy a plane ticket, pack up her apartment, and fly straight to California? Throw herself on the mercy of this extremely attractive man who’d proposed to her over the internet without ever hearing her voice? Was she excited about it because it was a good idea… or did she just so desperately want to quit her job that the idea of going anywhere at all was appealing?
Elena’s face was glowing. “You’re actually thinking about it!”
”Maybe! I don’t know! It’s still a totally ridiculous idea, and you’re still a jerk for invading my privacy and making the account—“
”—yes, true, definitely, I owe you one there—”
”—but… I don’t know! How likely is it that he’s the one, you know?”
”About as likely as anyone else,” Elena shrugged. “You know me, I’m not into romance. But… part of it’s wanting the same stuff, right? Look at this guy. He wants a wife, a marriage, a family… all that wild crap you want. And your babies would be gorgeous. His eyes, your hair? Future supermodels.”
”That’s not the only thing that matters, Elena,” Jasmine said impatiently. “We’d have to like each other in person, too. There’d have to be… chemistry, a spark, you know? That’s why people go on dates when they meet each other online!”
”You hate dates!”
”I hate modern dates.” Jasmine gritted her teeth. “I’ve never even talked to him.”
”So talk to him. There’s a messenger function on the site, you can just… send him a few messages. Ask him whatever questions you need answered. The site encourages it.” Elena’s tone turned wheedling. “You may as well talk to him, Jazzy. If you just delete the email, you’ll never know if he might have been the love of your life…”
”You’re ridiculous,” Jasmine said flatly. “And dinner’s on you tonight, I think.”
”That’s fair.”
But later that night, when Elena had gone home after the rather decadent feast of Chinese food they’d shared, Jasmine found herself wandering back into the email she’d received and scrolling through Bryce’s profile again. Before she could talk herself out of it, she opened up the messenger app and sent him a quick message. Then she tossed her phone across the bed, a little frightened by her own daring.
Was she seriously considering this?
Chapter 5 – Bryce
Bryce checked his shirt in the mirror for perhaps the fifth time that morning. Was it the right color? Did it say the right things about him? Was it too formal? Not formal enough? He didn’t want to wear a suit—the email had specifically said to dress casually—but a part of him felt like he should look his absolute best to meet her. Humans set a lot of store by clothing. For Bryce, clothing had always served a functional purpose first—he wore protective leathers when he rode his motorbike and tough, durable fabrics when he was working construction—so the prospect of dressing to make a certain visual impression on a person had left him completely out of his depth.
And what was worse, he couldn’t ask any of his more fashionable friends for advice. James would know exactly what to wear, he was sure… if he could pick himself up off the ground and stop laughing for long enough once he’d heard what Bryce needed the outfit for. No, he loved and trusted his friends… but this particular new adventure was one he was going to have to go on alone. He’d considered talking to Alice, James’s little sister, or even Serena—women seemed like a safer bet to talk to about matters of the heart like this one. But in the end, he’d chickened out. He had a reputation to uphold, didn’t he? Good old Bryce, the strong, silent one. Independent. Didn’t need anybody.
Well, they were going to laugh when they found out what he’d done.
He headed out to his car, keeping his head low, worried about being seen. It was his day off—he’d managed to organize it with Lachlan without much fuss, though he’d caught a curious glance from his friend, who usually had to chase him to take time off his work. And instead of spending it working on his garden like he usually did, he would be taking a trip up the coast to a certain airport, where a certain woman would be arriving on a certain plane.
It still didn’t feel real, he thought, settling into the driver’s seat and taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. Part of him expected to turn up at the airport and find nobody there at all. What if it was all an elaborate joke? It had been weeks since he’d sent through his proposal, weeks since Jasmine had responded, clearly bristling with caution and full of questions and concerns. They’d talked through them via the messaging app that was part of the website—she’d wanted to know everything about him, his past, his future, where he lived, what he did with himself. It was easy enough to explain his work—he was assisting with the construction of what would be a busy tourist resort, and once it was built would likely transition into new responsibilities there. He’d taken lots of photos of his house to show her where she’d be living if she decided to accept his proposal… as well as a few of the beach that was a five-minute walk from his back door. She was very pleased with the beach. He’d already decided that that would be the first thing they’d do tomorrow morning—a refreshing swim in the Pacific Ocean. The late autumn weather was still warm enough to make that an inviting prospect.
/> Talking about his past had been a little bit more difficult. He couldn’t share the whole thing with her—not without revealing that he was a lot older than thirty like it said on his profile. So he made a few edits, condensed a few details, told her that he spent a few years on the road with his friends, not a few decades. He even picked a year for his human birthday. It felt disrespectful to lie to her… but she wouldn’t have believed him if he’d told her the truth. And as much as he wanted her to know that she could trust him, the truth was, he couldn’t trust her. Not yet—not with the details of what he was. There was a well-grounded fear among shifters that telling humans about what they were could lead to trouble, and he wasn’t going to give a stranger that kind of information. Maybe, once they’d gotten to know each other in person a little, he’d make a judgment about whether he could trust her to know what he was. But until then… well, if she was truly meant for him, she’d forgive him for misleading her a little, right?
It was a long, anxious drive up the coast towards the Eureka/Arcata airport, where her flight would be dropping her off around midday. According to the series of emails he’d received earlier that week, when he’d received the notification that Jasmine had accepted his proposal, an agent from the site would be meeting them there to facilitate the introduction and go over the details of the ceremony with them both. His heart had almost backflipped out of his chest when he’d read that email… he’d checked his phone while he was working, seen the subject line proudly declaring “SHE SAID YES!” and almost dropped the phone into a bucket of paint.
But they weren’t married yet. Nor would they be technically, legally, officially married that day… there would be a ceremony, the email had said, but it wouldn’t be legally binding until a follow-up ceremony a few weeks later. One month, that was the agreed upon time limit. One month to live together as husband and wife—pairs were encouraged to treat the symbolic ceremony as though it was the real deal as much as possible—and if either party decided that they didn’t want to go ahead with the relationship, the legal issues associated with backing out of the agreement would be a lot less severe than a formal divorce. It was sensible, Bryce supposed. It also made him feel a little better about meeting his ‘wife’, knowing that she wouldn’t be pressured into staying with him by fear of going through a real, legal divorce if things didn’t go well.
Before he knew it, he was pulling into the airport carpark. He was still a good half-hour early, and he fidgeted with his wallet as he sat in the car for a moment, trying to calm his breathing. God, he was a nervous wreck. He’d been in fights before—serious fights, the kinds of fights where people got killed. But he’d never felt this nervous in his life—how pathetic. His shirt was wet with sweat already, and he bit his lip, glad he’d opted for a dark color that hid the sweat marks as well as showing off his ocean-blue eyes. Jasmine had made a few comments about how nice his eyes were—comments that had made him grin like a teenager, glad she couldn’t see him blushing from the other end of the phone.
God, how was he going to wait another thirty minutes? He took a deep breath and got out of the car, deciding it made more sense to wait for her inside the terminal. What if her flight was early? It wasn’t as busy here as at the state’s major airports, and he was able to find his way to her arrival gate with a minimum of fuss. That still left him twenty minutes to wait… A part of him was already strongly suggesting that he go back, get in his car, and drive in the opposite direction as fast as possible.
”Are you Bryce?”
He looked up as though he’d been shocked—but those green eyes couldn’t have been Jasmine’s. There was a cool, professional-looking woman in a gray suit standing in front of him, a briefcase tucked under one arm. She smiled at him, extending her hand for him to shake. The contact was oddly reassuring.
”I’m Hannah. I’m the facilitator from ‘Forever-Now’. How are you feeling?”
”Fine,” he managed.
”Nervous?”
”A little.”
”Good!” she said brightly, giving him a twinkly-eyed smile that felt calming. “You know it’s right when you’ve got butterflies. Did you know that the chemical processes behind nervousness are identical to the chemical processes behind excitement?”
”I didn’t,” he said blankly.
”So you might be nervous… but your body and your brain, they’re excited! Now, did you get a chance to read over the emails we sent?”
”Yeah, most of them.”
”Good. It all seems a lot more complicated than it is. You’ll meet Jasmine here—I’ll disappear around the corner so you two can have a private moment,” she added with a wink, “and then I’ll take you both to a nearby chapel for the ceremony.”
”A chapel?” He looked down at his shirt, feeling uncomfortable. “Am I dressed—”
”You look wonderful,” she said smoothly. “Like the email said—it’s not a formal wedding! That part comes later,” she added, eyes twinkling again. “Once you’re as sure as we are that you two are meant to be. That’s when you roll out the tuxes and the veils and the string quartets. Today’s just about the two of you, so we opt for a more comfortable dress code.”
Hannah was good at this, he had to admit. He felt a lot more confident about the process with her smooth, reassuring voice in his ear. But before she could say anything else, his eyes widened. A plane was taxiing into the gate—the plane from Denver. Jasmine’s plane.
”I’ll give you five minutes to get acquainted,” Hannah whispered, giving his forearm a reassuring little squeeze. “Go get her!”
He felt oddly bereft without Hannah at his side—but he would have felt extra strange with an official party present to preside over their meeting. Before too long, the passengers started moving off the plane, and he tried not to crane his neck to peer over them, searching for the woman who was to be his wife… no, he couldn’t think of her like that, or he’d be too awkward to speak. She was just… a new friend, that was all. A woman he was picking up from the airport. Jasmine. They’d talked about the beach, joked about surfing with sharks… this was fine. This was going to be just fine.
Then he saw her, and his jaw dropped.
She was bringing up the rear of the passengers who were crowding off the plane, her eyes scanning the airport, and the trepidation clear in her body language. She was wearing a light pink dress the color of new rosebuds, tight around her hips with a long, trailing skirt that swished around her calves when she moved… simple, elegant, beautiful. And god, the way she moved. Her body seemed to undulate as she walked, her curves shifting with her motion, an unbelievable grace in every inch of her. Her dark hair was loose, tumbling over her shoulders in those soft waves that had looked so tempting to touch in her photographs, and as her hazel eyes met his and recognition dawned on her face, Bryce realized he had no idea what he could possibly say to a goddess like this.
And then she was right there in front of him, a tentative smile playing across her full lips, which were painted a shade of pink that matched her dress. He realized he hadn’t breathed since he’d seen her, and he took a hasty gasp of air now, knowing his face must have frozen solid—the look of apprehension on her face seemed to indicate that he’d probably made a fool of himself already.
”Jasmine?” he managed, his voice sounding like it was coming from a thousand miles away.
”Yes! Bryce, right?” God, her voice was beautiful. He hadn’t been ready for her voice. Why hadn’t they talked on the phone? It would have prepared him better for their meeting.
”Yep. Yes. That’s me,” he stammered, gritting his teeth and trying to get a hold of himself. “You—you look nice. Just like your pictures,” he added quickly, not wanting her to think he thought her photos weren’t as nice.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling a little and looking down. “I know they said to keep it casual, so it’s just a sundress, but… you know, it’s meant to be our wedding day, right?”
”Right,” he agreed, feeling
stupid. Weddings. Of course. Weddings were important to humans—more important than they were to shifters, who had their own way of doing things. When shifters found their mates, they rarely felt a need to throw some huge event… but humans liked a celebration. Was he taking that away from her by doing things this way? He felt apprehension gnaw at his stomach. “I mean. I just wore—this. I hope that’s okay.”
”You look great,” she said, warmth in that gorgeous, husky voice of hers… and he all but melted. Get a grip, Bryce. At this rate, you’re going to pass out before you even get her into the car.
”Do you have a bag?”
”Oh, yeah.” She’d been looking closely at his face—she tore her eyes away now, scanning the airport. “I better go grab it from baggage check.”
”Let me,” Bryce said quickly. Carrying things? That was his area of expertise. “Oh, the… the woman from the website is around here somewhere—”
”Hannah? Yeah, we’ve talked on the phone a bunch,” Jasmine said. “She’s great. Really made me feel safer about the whole thing.”
”Safer?”
”Well, yeah. Moving across the country to marry a stranger… you know, it’s a bit…” She shrugged. “I mean, not that I don’t trust you, but—”
”Of course,” he said blankly. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might have been worried about more than just the prospect that they wouldn’t get on. All the questions she’d asked him… they were about ensuring her safety, not just about what kind of life she’d be living if she moved in with him. “Right. Sure.”
”Anyway,” she said, looking around. It felt awkward, he realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach. This was getting awkward. God, this was so not his strong suit. James would have already charmed her. Had he told her how beautiful she was? He didn’t want to come on too strong, make her uncomfortable… but god, it was hard to strike a balance between being standoffish and being too intense. And she seemed a little anxious, too. Had he overstepped? Or had he not overstepped enough?
