Bought by the SEAL

by Zoe York

  When he pulled up at the marina that evening, she was waiting on a bench under a tree at the edge of the parking lot. She’d changed since brunch. Gone were the shorts and tank top. Now she had on a flirty sundress the color of the sea. Will was glad he’d dressed up himself, and he straightened the collar of his black buttoned-down, short-sleeve shirt before he hopped out of his vehicle.

  His outfit didn’t stop her from giving his ride some serious side-eye.

  “A Humvee, Will? Could you be any more of a cliché?”

  “I don’t fit on your scooter. If we’re going to talk on the way to wherever it is we’re going, you’ll have to swallow your distaste.”

  The corners of her mouth twitched, then blossomed into a real smile.

  He prowled closer and leaned in. “What’s that?”

  “Fine,” she murmured, her face softening. “Thank you for driving, Will.”

  “This is suspiciously easy,” he said. “What’s going on?”

  She gave him an innocent smile. “I had a good time this morning at brunch, didn’t you?”

  “I did.”

  “I think we should focus on that when we meet Dorsey. Build a story around last night, and this morning, and the last few months.”

  “So, you’re changing the subject,” he said, chuckling. “And I presume Dorsey is the priest?”

  That smile returned. “Yes. Dorsey is the priest.”

  He nodded. Well, he wasn’t sure how he was going to focus on last night’s kiss, and this morning’s simmering post-kiss tension, and stay cool in front of a dude in a collar, but whatever Daphne wanted, Daphne could have—as long as they ended up hitched, Will was game. “Then, my beautiful co-conspirator, your giant beast of a chariot awaits. Shall we?”

  Once they were back on the road, Daphne directed him away from Petite Ciotat. The road climbed quickly as he drove inland, into the jungle. “Where are we headed?”

  “To church.” she said simply.

  Something made him doubt that there was anything simple about what they were going to do next. “Tell me about Dorsey.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “This is a real church, right?”

  She laughed out loud. “Yes.”

  “Because the marriage license website said—”

  “This is legit. You just need to be convincing as a head-over-heels romantic while we’re there.”

  “I can do that.”

  “I have no doubt.” She gave him a curious sideways glance. “Where did you get your acting skills, anyway?”

  “Time spent undercover.”

  “What?” Her mouth dropped open and her voice shifted into straight-up shocked. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. You might think of me as a privileged silver-spoon jackass—”

  “I don’t.” She sighed. “Sorry for cutting you off again, but no, not anymore. Turn left up here.”

  He followed her instructions, which now came fast and furious as the road became steeper and the turns were on top of each other. The conversation paused until he parked in front of…almost nothing.

  It didn’t look like any church he’d ever seen before. It was really more of an amphitheater than a building, surrounded by soaring trees. But as he carefully examined it, he saw an altar and an aisle between the carved benches.

  Island life.

  Daphne reached across the cab and touched his arm. “Will…”

  He gave her his full attention. “Yeah?”

  “I just want to say, you know, before we go and do this…I’ve been harsh in the past about some of your choices, and I know we come from very different worlds, but I really have seen a different side of you this weekend. When we go in there and I tell Dorsey that, it won’t be a lie.”

  Shit. He touched his hand to his chest, then covered her fingers with it. “Thank you.”

  She grinned and leaned in to brush her lips against his jaw.

  Well, shit again, that felt pretty good.

  “I thought we weren’t going to be kissing again,” he said gruffly.

  “That was different.” She cleared her throat and pointed past him. “Ah. Dorsey is waiting for us.”

  He swiveled his head back to the amphitheater. It took his brain a beat to process the information Daphne had carefully left out of the conversation all day. “You didn’t tell me the priest was a woman.”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  He looked back at her just in time to see her try and force a laughing expression off her face. “Again, I’m going to point out that you really seem to be enjoying all of this.”

  “That’s because I am. You know what they say about assumptions, right?” She winked at him.

  “I didn’t assume. I…” He grinned. “I presumed. And you could have corrected me.”

  “I could have, that’s true.” She smoothed out her expression. “Let’s go meet the decider of our fate.”

  Will took a deep breath and followed Daphne around the vehicle. The whole time he took in as much visual information as he could about the priest.

  Yep, Dorsey was very much a woman. A stunning black woman with wild natural curls, bright brown eyes, and a ready smile as she met them at the top of the aisle-path. She held out her hand, bangles tinkling delicately on her wrist. They matched her flowing red dress and the flash of silver at her ankle, too. “Daphne, so lovely to see you again. But I’m curious about the urgency, I must admit.”

  “We really appreciate you making time for us tonight,” Daphne took Will’s hand, her fingers sliding through his as if they’d spent the last thirty-six hours holding hands as much as humanly possible, and now it was old-hat.

  It wasn’t. It was startling and strange and made him hypersensitive to the way her fingers felt. Small and firm. Warm. Soft.

  “This is Will. Will, meet Dorsey.”

  He forced his mind off fingers and onto being polite. “A pleasure to meet you. And as Daphne said, we really appreciate you doing…this.” Whatever this was. He still wasn’t clear on that.

  The priestess gave him an appraising look, then back to Daphne, before returning to him again. “So. Shall we sit and discuss getting married?”

  Right to it. He nodded. “We’re pretty eager.”

  “So I gather. The heart is a funny thing, isn’t it?” She settled on one of the benches and watched as they sat across from her. “Tell me how you met.”

  Daphne squeezed his hand again, then waved her fingers in the air as she laughed gently. “I insulted him the first time we met. And the second. Right off the bat, I didn’t like Will. But I didn’t know him, not really. And this weekend…” She looked over at him. He didn’t know why she’d been shocked about his own ability to turn a role on and off. She had it too. Her eyes softened. “It’s the strangest thing…”

  And out spilled a fantastical tale of falling hard and fast. By the time she was done, Will believed her.

  “And you, Will? At what moment did you fall in love with Daphne?”

  “In hindsight, I think it was that first day when she called me a dill-hole,” he said. “I know that she’ll always be honest with me. Always calls me on my—” He cleared his throat. Probably best not to say shit in front of a priest—or priestess. “Always tells me when I’m not living up to my best self.”

  She liked the answer, he could tell. “And what about conflict?”

  “We have a lot of experience with that already,” he said quickly. “It hasn’t stopped us from getting close. If anything, we know things will be rocky and we’re more honest about that than most couples.”

  “Interesting.” She had more questions after that, but they were all on the same theme, and Will soon figured out she was just double-checking. His pulse picked up. This was going to work.

  Thank goodness for Miralinda’s funny laws. If this woman approved of their marriage, she could sign a license for them and they could get married in the next few days.

  Hot damn.

  “Would you want t
o get married here?” Dorsey interrupted his thoughts, her eyes carefully searching his face.

  “Here?”

  She spread her hands wide. “In my church.”

  He looked at Daphne. Is this place even legal? he tried to ask her with his gaze. Because it needed to be fully legitimate for the trustees in New York. It couldn’t be some island magic wishful thinking.

  The priestess leaned in. “Do you have another preference?”

  “I just want to marry Daphne. Legally, not just…” He trailed off, his eyes going wide as Daphne blinked at him innocently.

  She was no help.

  And she was still enjoying herself with the whole confusion thing.

  But then she giggled and bumped her shoulder into his arm, letting him off the hook. “Sorry Dorsey, this is my fault. I let him think we were coming to see a manly priest, and he’s having a bit of a tricky time re-arranging his thoughts.”

  “Not that tricky,” he muttered. He wrapped his arm around Daphne and gave her a good squeeze. Two could play at the teasing, touching game. “Not an assumption I should have made,” he said dryly. “And whatever kind of priest you are is just fine by me.”

  Dorsey smiled. “Good to know, because I’m not a manly one.”

  “No.”

  “Are you still wondering what kind I am?”

  He hesitated a second, then decided to be honest. “Yes.”

  “My grandmother was Obeah. She raised me through my formative years, although my own faith is perhaps more familiar to you.”

  “Oh?”

  She smiled broadly. “I’m Episcopalian.”

  “Ah.”

  “Relax, Will, I’m not a witch. At least not on Sundays.”

  He’d walked right into that one, and he chuckled. “Good to know.”

  “So yes, I can legally marry you. Whenever you want, in fact.” Her eyes sparkled. “Tonight, if you would like.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Tonight?”

  Will wasn’t sure which one of them asked the question. Maybe they both said it at the same time, but they both recovered just as quickly.

  Daphne leaned into him and lowered her voice. “Could we, Will?”

  On the surface, it sounded soft and sexy and sweet. He knew it was more complicated than that. This hadn’t been the plan. He touched her chin and lifted her face so he could read her expression clearly. “You don’t mind if it’s just the two of us?”

  She shook her head slowly.

  No. They were alone in this crazy plan. And now that he was staring down into her eyes, he realized he couldn’t ask her to exchange vows she didn’t mean in front of her friends. It would be easier for her to tell everyone the gorgeous jungle setting got the better of them. The warm night air, and the scent of hibiscus on the wind—honestly, maybe it was getting to him, anyway. “This would be perfect,” he murmured. “A fitting end to a whirlwind weekend.”

  The smile that bloomed across her face erased any doubt. He swept his fingers up and over her cheek, enjoying the way her eyes dilated and her lips parted at his touch. She was good at this play-acting.

  The next year was going to be a piece of cake.

  He turned to Dorsey, who was watching them with a smile of her own. “Tonight sounds perfect.”

  Her bangles tinkled pleasantly as she gestured to the altar, and the structure behind it. “Then I’ll go and get ready. Would you like a standard service?”

  He had no idea.

  Luckily, Daphne did. “I think so,” she said, finding her voice. “Nothing about obeying, though. Let’s not be crazy.”

  He laughed out loud. “Deal.”

  “Give me five minutes,” said Dorsey, before she turned and headed off to a secret space behind the altar.

  As soon as she was gone, Will took Daphne’s hand and tugged her out of the outdoor church and onto the path down to the parking area. “Are you sure about this?” he asked his spontaneous bride. “Because I don’t want to force you to do anything too quickly.”

  “I’m in,” she whispered back, conspiratorially. “I wore a dress, didn’t I? It’s all good. We’ll look super cute for the pictures.”

  Pictures. Wedding. He swallowed hard. “I don’t have a ring for you. I thought I’d have more time.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Is a ring necessary? I think I prefer the narrative where it all happens at the last minute and we don’t have anything like that.”

  He thought hard. No, maybe a ring wasn’t necessary. But he needed to give her something. He cast his gaze around the dark, jungle foliage. Somewhere high above them, a bird took flight off a branch, rustling leaves and making other critters restless, too. “Are we in the middle of protected land or something like that?”

  Daphne followed his attention to the plant matter behind her. “Uh, no, I don’t think so… Why?”

  He turned, catching her wrist in one hand and snagging a long, twisting vine with the other. He spun it around their hands. Binding them together. “We can use something like this. Give each other…a lifeline? Is that too cheesy? It can be a secret promise to each other that even as we do this, we know we’ve got each other’s back in a way.”

  Her lips parted, and a small, sweet gasp slid out. “Oh.”

  “Um, is that a good oh, or way overstepping kind of oh?”

  “Good,” she said, her voice still low. “Sure. Cut me some vine. I can carry it as a bit of a bouquet. That’ll look good in pictures.”

  She kept mentioning the pictures. He took the hint and pulled out his phone. He handed it to her before digging out his car keys. On the chain was a small utility tool, which had a decent little blade on it. “Take my photo as I cut them.”

  “Say cheese.”

  He grinned at her before finishing the job. Then he headed a few steps farther back, looking for flowers. He settled on one giant hibiscus bloom and settled it in the middle of the vines.

  “Here,” he said, holding it out. “A bouquet for you.”

  “Aw.” She took it and batted her eyes up at him.

  He chucked her on the chin as he leaned in. “For that, I’m going to make our kiss at the altar extra-good.”

  “That’ll show me.”

  He did a check down the aisle. Dorsey was back and waiting for them. “Speaking of that. It’s showtime.”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this. Do you want to wait for me at the altar, or…?”

  “We could walk up there together.” He snapped a picture of her waiting with the flower, then switched his phone to the music app.

  At the first strain of “Cake by the Ocean” by DNCE, Daphne burst out laughing. “What is that?”

  “My favorite of the wedding-related songs I downloaded in the last few days.”

  “I guess it’s a wedding song.” She pressed her lips together and looked suspiciously at his phone. “What else is on your playlist?”

  “Never you mind. You’ll find out as this thing plays out.”

  “I can’t believe I’m walking down the aisle to a dance song,” she said under her breath as he offered her his arm.

  But she took it. Then she squeezed it.

  And when they stepped forward, they both had a little hop to their step. He knew what he was doing. It may be unconventional, but this was going to be the silliest, best fake wedding Daphne would ever have.

  Was it wrong to bounce on your way to the altar?

  If so, Daphne didn’t want to be right.

  Dorsey was waiting for them at the end of the aisle, and she snapped her fingers along to the beat before the song came to an end and Will tucked his phone away. “Interesting choice,” she commented.

  The whole thing was way more interesting than they could ever tell the priest—or anyone else. Daphne smiled. “That’s an understatement.”

  “I can tell.” The priest tilted her head to the side and gave them a soft smile. “Daphne and Will, what a fascinating journey has brought you to this moment. Love doesn’t liv
e by any recognizable rules, does it? We can’t anticipate when it will sneak into our hearts. But when it does, we have a choice. What are we going to do with this love, this gift? Will we cherish it? Will we honor it? Will we protect it and nurture it? Tonight, you came to me with love in your hearts. A love neither of you expected, and even now, you are surprised to feel.”

  Daphne felt a pang of guilt at the deception. Dorsey was reading them all wrong, although there was a thread of truth there in the surprise.

  But before that pang could settle in, Will squeezed her hand. She hadn’t even realized their fingers were still entwined.

  And Dorsey kept going, unaware of the subterfuge. “It is my pleasure to be a part of your decision to make this commitment to one another tonight. Your instincts brought you to this moment. Trust those same feelings as you move forward, side-by-side. Are you ready to exchange vows?”

  “I am,” Will said.

  Daphne murmured the same thing.

  “Will, do you bring yourself to this marriage free of encumbrance, ready to commit yourself to Daphne?”

  “I do.”

  “Daphne, do you bring yourself to this marriage free of encumbrance, ready to commit yourself to Will?”

  “I do.”

  Dorsey smiled again. “Then repeat after me. I, Will…”

  He listened to the priest, but his gaze was locked on Daphne’s face. “I, Will, take you, Daphne, to be my legally-wedded wife. I promise to love, honor, and cherish you, forsaking all others. I will protect you. I will support you, in all that I do and with all that I have. I give you my solemn word as your husband.”

  They were lovely vows. Daphne had to swallow hard around a lump in her throat before repeating the same vows in turn. She tried to put emphasis on the parts that were the closest to the truth. “I, Daphne, take you, Will, to be my legally-wedded husband. I promise to love, honor, and cherish you, forsaking all others. I will protect you. I will support you, in all that I do and with all that I have. I give you my solemn word as your wife.”

  “Do you have rings to exchange?”

  Will shook his head. “Didn’t think that far ahead. But we were wondering…”