Because the marriage had to look real, our families were there. I was surprised Sinclair’s parents were going along with this, but maybe there was a benefit to them too. After all, her father’s store relied a great deal on local farmers.
Sinclair stood next to me in front of the judge at the county courthouse as we prepared to say our vows.
“Are we ready?” Judge Peterson had to be nearing ninety years old. His warm friendly eyes smiled at us through his wrinkly face.
“Yes, sir,” I said, putting my hand under Sinclair’s forearm. I supposed my subconscious was afraid she might run off.
Before Judge Peterson could start, the doors at the back of the room opened and a thirty-something-year-old man strode in.
“Mr. Mayor,” the judge said.
So that was the mayor who was more interested in diplomacy than saving the farms that built Salvation. He walked toward us; his gaze laser-targeted on Sinclair in a way that made me want to stand in front of her.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a tone that suggested she was surprised he was there.
“What are you doing?” He glanced at me, looking me over and deciding I was lacking.
“I’m getting married, Mo.” She looked at him incredulously. At least I could believe that this wasn’t some last-minute scheme to stop our plan. She wasn’t about to be the runway bride.
“Are you sure about this, Sinclair?”
“Yes,” she said tightly.
I looked to Ryder and his parents, all who seemed baffled too. Trina was biting her lip.
“It’s not like you to be impulsive.” His eyes had a look of pain and desperation which made me realize he wasn’t here as her boss. The mayor had a thing for Sinclair. A wave of jealousy crashed through me.
“Excuse me, Mr. Mayor, but we’re in the middle of getting married. Since when is that against a town ordinance?” Was he really going to break up my wedding because he wanted Sinclair to himself?
He ignored me. “Come on, Sinclair. I get what’s happening here. You don’t need to marry this man to help the farmers.” He said “this man” in a way that suggested he thought I was lower than pond scum.
At first, I was shocked by the reaction, and then I was pissed. “With all due respect, Mr. Mayor, I’ll carry you out of here if I have to-”
“And I’ll put you in jail,” he shot back. My mother gasped. Trina went wide-eyed as did Sinclair’s family. My mother said, “Oh lord.”
I laughed. “Good. Do you really think you’ll win re-election by interrupting a wedding and putting a groom in jail because you have the hots for the bride?”
His jaw tensed. “That’s not what this is about.”
I stepped up to him, wanting to intimidate him. “Oh, so you admit to wanting Sinclair for yourself?”
“Wyatt, let me handle this,” Sinclair said, grabbing the mayor by his arm. “We need to talk.” She turned to me and the judge. “Just give me a minute.”
“Sinclair,” I said, worried that if she left to talk to the mayor, he might say something that would change her mind. What if she liked him too?
“I’ll be right back,” she said to me.
I wasn’t happy about it, but I nodded. I knew Sinclair well enough to know she didn’t want me all macho and taking charge. I had to trust that she’d come back and stick to our deal.
She led the mayor out to the hallway while our little wedding party started talking amongst themselves.
“What’s up with that?” I asked Ryder.
He shrugged. “I have no idea.”
I turned to Trina, my eyes glaring at her with the same question.
She gave a little wince. “Mayor Valentine has a little crush on-”
“Crush? He crashed my wedding. Who the hell does he think he is?” I turned to the judge. “This is still America, right? He can’t just walk in and stop a wedding because he’s the mayor, right?”
The judge shrugged, clearly baffled by the turn of events as well.
“I know, I know, he’s being crazy.” Trina looked back to where Sinclair exited with the mayor. “I don’t know what he’s thinking. He’s never acted on his interest in her. He’s her boss, and he’s a stickler for the rules. But it’s no secret that he’s been biding his time.”
“Is it me or would he interrupt anyone she married?” I asked, trying to decide if I should take this personally.
“It’s probably the speed at which it’s happening,” Ryder said.
“Does he know?” I asked Trina. “About the arrangement?”
She shook her head adamantly. “No. Not specifically. He may have guessed. I don’t know.”
What kind of man would I be if I let another man steal my bride away in the middle of my wedding? I’d be a pussy, that’s what.
“Fuck this shit,” I said as I strode toward the door. I didn’t care if Sinclair got mad. “Wyatt!” my mother yelled, glancing at Sinclair’s parents, probably with concern that my language would put them off.
I reached the door just as Trina joined me. “She won’t like it if you barge in there guns blazing.”
Torn as to what I should do, I decided to determine what they were talking about. I leaned my ear to the door to see what I could hear.
“It’s not like you to run off and get married, Sinclair. What’s really going on here?” I heard the mayor ask.
“Firstly, it’s none of your business.”
Good, she was going to give him a tongue lashing.
“It’s as if you’re doing this just to be able to build opposition to Stark. Really, you have more sense than this. What you’re doing is nuts.”
“What I’m doing is getting married. You have no say in
