Chapter 9 Runaway Bride
Celeste-
I could have sworn I saw a flicker in his eyes when I walked out of the room in the white dress, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
The ride to the courthouse had been quiet, settling in the air like a blanket. He broke it finally, saying, "My boss, Jackson, has agreed to stand in as a witness. He's already there."
By the time we stood in front of the judge, I couldn't stop staring. He was dangerously handsome, the kind of man who made my stomach twist and my pulse quicken without even trying. How had I not noticed him like this before? I asked myself, heart thudding, my thoughts a jumble of irritation and fascination.
The judge's voice pulled me back. "Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
I glanced at Lucien, but he didn't hesitate. "I do," he said calmly. Firm.
Why? I wondered. Marrying a stranger without batting an eye.
And now it was my turn. My throat went dry as my eyes locked on his. "I do," I whispered, almost breathless, my eyes locked on his.
The judge smiled. "Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
My heart reached my throat as heat surged through me. In a blink, he stepped closer, leaning in and closing the space between us. I barely had time to catch my breath before his lips found mine-slow and tender.
Before I could fully immerse myself, he pulled back. Stepping back like he had just fulfilled a duty rather than kissing me breathlessly.
By the time we were finished, Jackson showed us the news that flew around. My family had formally announced my engagement to Colin with some photos we had taken for publicity. Too bad I still couldn't get a hold of my phone.
"The news of your marriage at the courthouse has gone viral," Jackson informed us. "You can imagine what's going on out there. And with a single exit, we'll have to go the hard way," he explained.
They both stared, then Jackson hurried off first, while I stood there wondering what I had missed. "I'll meet you both out-front." He yelled, while Lucien nodded in understanding.
Moments later, the doors swung open, and I nearly lost my footing from the shock. The press swarmed the courthouse steps, microphones thrust like weapons, flashes exploding in our faces.
"Can you run?" Lucien asked in a clipped tone.
But before I could answer, his hand locked around mine and the next, we were moving-faster than I thought possible in heels.
I stumbled once, but his grip only tightened, steadying me. Somewhere between the shouts, the blinding lights, and the chaos, a laugh escaped me. Breathless, wild, uncontrollable.
So this was what freedom felt like?
Lucien didn't laugh. Not even close. But for a fleeting moment, his head turned toward me, eyes burning with something I couldn't name. His fingers didn't let go until a different car came into sight-Jackson's. Their quiet nods now suddenly made sense.
Lucien's fingers didn't let go until the car door slammed shut behind us and we drove off.
I didn't know what had come over me, but I kept laughing at the absurdity of the entire situation. Even Jackson laughed too. Lucien remained stoic. Then, as if realizing he'd held on too long, he released me first. Maintaining his gaze outside the window.
"Thank you, Jackson." I smiled. Clearly, he was more than just a boss to Lucien.
"Anything for a friend," he replied.
As he drove, he informed us of the reporters waiting outside Lucien's apartment, and even in front of his unit.
"For now, a hotel would be our safest bet. Something that won't draw their attention that easily, given your status, ma'am," he explained. I quietly nodded. Right now, all I needed was a quiet place to rest my head.
When we arrived at the hotel, Jackson strode inside without waiting for instructions and booked the room in his own name. Returning, he pressed the key card into Lucien's palm.
"There's only one standard left," he said, his tone firm but gentle. "It'll do for tonight. Best you lay low till we figure things out tomorrow."
It was an odd balance between them, Jackson the boss, fussing like an older brother, making sure his reckless younger sibling stayed out of sight.
The hotel seemed cheap. But at least it was clean. "The lobby looks kind of empty," I said.
"That's because this place isn't in a good location," Lucien answered. "No landmarks, no traffic. Whoever bought it either got it cheap or got scammed." He seemed very perked by the topic but didn't pursue it further.
The elevator was quiet when we stepped in, just the two of us and the hum of the machine. We stood apart, like we hadn't just married and kissed. This was not how I had envisaged my wedding day.
Suddenly, the doors opened, and a group of strangers pushed inside without warning.
"Shit!" I exclaimed, bowing my head to avoid them.
Lucien moved right away. He stepped in front of me, towering above with his face to me. His shoulders blocked the crowd completely, like a wall between us and them.
I froze and my heart skipped. We were suddenly so close I could see the sharp lines on his face, the steady look in his eyes. The busy noise behind him faded, and for a moment, it felt like it was only him and me in that elevator.
One woman gasped at her phone screen. "Oh my God, look at this photo of Celeste Ashford and her new husband. Look at this. Don't they look good together?" She angled the picture toward her friend.
My cheeks flushed red. It was a tight spot I knew, and there was nothing he could do about it. I watched his jaw tighten instead. But his face remained cold and still except for the small twitch at the corner of his mouth. If I hadn't been staring, I would have missed it.
By the time the group left, the mask was back, like a smile was never attempted. But I knew what I saw. And for some reason, it felt like my little secret.
We finally reached our room. A cart stood waiting, a bottle of wine on top with a note tucked beside it, courtesy of Jackson.
"Your boss is really thoughtful," I said, forcing a smile. "Want to celebrate?"
The words came out lighter than I felt, as if the wine and the food could make the courthouse chaos vanish. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he stared at me with an unreadable expression, then turned and walked out.
The door clicked shut.
For a long moment, I just stood there, my fingers curling around nothing. My chest went tight with frustration, but I forced a smile no one could see, reached for the bottle, and poured myself a glass. If he didn't want to be here, fine. I'd drink alone.
"He's such a confusing man. One minute, he was saving you from the press and shielding you, and the next, he was ignoring you." I lifted the glass halfway when the door opened again.
My heart skipped. Lucien.
His expression remained in place as he crossed the room in three strides. No words. No warning.
"What-?" His hand knocked the glass from mine, wine splashing onto the carpet-and then his mouth was on me.
Hard. Demanding. Nothing gentle about it. Different from the kiss in front of the judge.
One hand cupped my neck and the other one my waist, heat coursing through. The kiss stole the breath from my lungs, rough and cutting, like he was trying to burn something into me...or out of himself.
I held on to him, letting him and me burn. I wanted this. No, I needed it. His hands traveled up faster, finding the zipper of my dress with ease. He let it down, fingers running over my skin.
And just as quickly, those fingers curled into fists and he pulled back. His eyes had darkened, his chest rising and falling as if he'd run a mile. Then he stepped away, turning his back on me and once walked off as though nothing had happened.
I stood there, lips still tingling, heartbeat out of control.
"What the hell just happened?" I wondered.