Chapter Twelve

~ Beck ~

"By the power invested in me by the great State of Texas, I now pronounce you married," the judge stated. "You may kiss your spouse."

The smile that graced my lips was so wide that my cheeks ached, but I couldn't prevent it even if I wanted to. I never thought to actually hear those words, no matter how many times I'd dreamed of them.

Scotty was a bit taller than me so I leaned up on my tip toes and pursed my lips to receive my kiss, but I got a finger pressed against them instead. I frowned at him, wondering what he was up to.

"I want to say something to you before we finish this."

I lifted an eyebrow in query, then shivered when he pressed a hand to my cheek.

"I know this is a bit rushed due to circumstances," Scotty continued, "but it's important to me that you know I meant every word of the vows I said here today. This isn't just a marriage to save me. This is real for me. I hope it's real for you, too."

I could see the judge staring at us with a furrowed brow out of the corner of my eye and knew he was wondering what was going on here.

I blinked a couple of times to keep the tears pooling in my eyes from spilling down my cheeks. Yeah, yeah, I got it that men weren't supposed to cry, but that was utter bullshit. Scotty was giving me my dream of having a good man love me for the rest of my life. You'd cry, too.

I reached up to place my hand on the side of Scotty's face, much like he had done to me. "I meant every word I said as well, Scotty. I love you and I want forever and a day with you."

Pretty sure I saw a suspicious sheen in Scotty's eyes before he lowered his lips and claimed mine in a kiss that curled my toes. I heard a happy squeal behind me and the low murmur of voices. I ignored it all. I was too busy kissing my husband.

When Scotty finally lifted his head, there was a twinkle in his grey eyes and a wide smile on his face. "We're going to be so happy together."

I prayed he was right.

Chelsea let out another one of her earsplitting squeals and then pounced. I grunted as I got shoved into Scotty, who just chuckled as he wrapped one arm around me and another around her.

"I'm so happy for you guys," she said as she bounced in place, jostling me quite a bit. "You're finally married."

Finally?

"You make it sound like we've been waiting years to get married," I pointed out. "We've only been engaged for a couple of weeks."

If that.

"I know," Chelsea replied. "I just never thought it would happen."

I didn't know whether to be insulted or not...Nope, I was insulted.

"Hey!"

Chelsea giggled as she darted behind Scotty.

Scotty grabbed me with both arms before I could go after her and hugged me tight to his body, which was really not a bad place to be. "Leave her alone. We have other things to do right now."

Bubble buster.

I turned to shake the judge's hand. "Thank you."

There was no way I could adequately convey to the judge what his services had meant to me and Scotty. I didn't want to explain either. He might nullify our marriage ceremony.

"You need to sign the marriage certificate and then my clerk can get it filed for you."

"Can we get a copy of the final marriage certificate?" Scotty asked. "We'll need it for our records."

The judge nodded. "I can have my clerk get a copy for you, but you know one will be mailed to your address, right?"

"Oh, I know," Scotty said, "but we're planning on a long honeymoon. We'd kind of like to take a copy with us."

Who knew moving to New York City could be considered a honeymoon?

We quickly signed the marriage certificate, and then, to give the judge his office back, the three of us moved out into the hallway. I sat down on one of the long wooden benches, Scotty sitting beside me. Chelsea took a seat on the bench across from us.

I shot Scotty a smile when he grabbed my hand and clasped our fingers together. We'd always been so careful not to show any affection while we were in public, so this was a bit new for us.

I liked the difference.

I glanced down and then lifted the small necklace around my neck. Or more importantly, the gold ring dangling from said necklace. Scotty had one, too. It wasn't the time to wear them on our fingers. Instead, we'd agreed to wear them on necklaces until we could.

"So, what now?" I asked as I tucked the necklace away under my shirt.

"Well," Scotty began, "once we get the marriage certificate proving that we are legally married, we'll head over to the bank and pick up whatever is in there, and then I thought I'd treat you to a wedding brunch."

It sucked that we couldn't celebrate our wedding with the usual fanfare, but I understood more than most. We needed to keep things secret for just a bit longer. Once we were in New York, I planned on shouting it from the rooftops that Scotty was mine. My love, my husband, my everything.

We chatted quietly about the move and what we hoped would happen with our lives as we waited for the paperwork. I knew what I hoped for. Being able to live openly as a married couple would be novel. It would also be a dream come true.

I'd spent a large portion of my adult life in the closet. Not because I wanted to or because I was afraid of other people knowing I was gay, but simply because of my conservative family.

Getting away from them equaled freedom.

It was as simple as that.

A small part of me was saddened by the fact that I would be leaving my family behind, most likely never to see them again. But an even bigger part of me was saddened that I had to leave them behind in order to live my life as I chose.

I never did understand why they were so concerned with who I slept with. It wasn't like I was having sex right in front of them. I wouldn't even bring my partner around them if they didn't want it. So, why did they have to berate me for being gay every time I was around them?

Being gay did not make me any less of a man than a straight one. And don't even get me started on being considered a pervert because I was gay. I'd love to take them the study I had found that showed straight men were more prone to rape or to sexually abuse someone than gay men.

The statistics would shock them right out of their shoes.

Whatever. Once we moved to New York, I'd never have to deal with them again. I'd never have to deal with any of these small minded idiots again.

Oh, I knew New York City had their fair share of haters. I couldn't think of any place on earth that didn't. The difference was that I could ignore them and live a free life with the man I loved.

Here, that couldn't happen.

"Here you go," the judge's clerk said as she walked up and handed Scotty a large manila envelope. "And congratulations."

"Thank you," I said.

Scotty probably would have thanked her, too, but he was busy pulling the marriage certificate out of the envelope and looking it over. I knew from the smirk on his face as he shoved the paper back into the envelope that it was what he wanted.

"Ready to go?"

I nodded and stood. Scotty once again took my hand as he walked us toward the elevators. I guess this really was something I'd need to get used to once we left Texas.

"Where's a good place for brunch?" I asked. "Do you know? I've never actually been here before."

I didn't know where anything was located.

"It's not fancy," Scotty replied, "but there's a really great diner a few blocks from here. My dad and I would always stop in there when we used to come here."

Scotty really didn't talk about his dad much, so I was curious. "Did you come here a lot?"

"Every couple of weeks when I was growing up we'd come here to visit my mom's grave, but that dwindled down to about once a month after he married Cynthia, and then none at all after he had his stroke."

God, I wanted to punch that woman.

"Prescott Textiles was started here. My great-grandfather's house is over on the other side of town by the old mill. I guess my dad lived there with his parents until he married my mom. When my grandparents died, he couldn't bring himself to sell the place, so he just kept it."

When we got to the car, Scotty directed Chelsea to the bank, which was just a couple of blocks away. I had no idea what the security deposit box at the bank held, but something told me that this simple visit to the bank wasn't going to be so simple.

My nerves started to jump the closer we got. By the time Chelsea pulled up in front of the bank, my heart rate was racing. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and then gave Scotty a nod, letting him know I was ready to go in.

He didn't hold my hand this time, but I could understand that. For one, he had a briefcase in his hand in case there was something he needed to carry out of the bank. We didn't really want anyone to know what we had found.

And two, we were going into a place of business that probably disdained public displays of affection. We were in Texas. Not everyone was accepting of the gay lifestyle. We needed cooperation inside the bank, not someone sneering at us.

I stayed in step with Chelsea, but a step behind Scotty, and followed him into the bank. I knew for a fact that the smile that was plastered on his face was as fake as Cynthia. He had to be as keyed up as I was.

Scotty approached one of the bank tellers and told her that he needed to access his security deposit box. I held my breath when he was told he needed to provide identification.

Were we busted?

My eyebrows shot up when the woman behind the counter smiled at Scotty and said, "If you'll come this way, Mr. Prescott, I'll get your box for you."

We were in?

Once again, Chelsea and I followed Scotty. Only this time, we were walking into a large bank vault. I shivered at the slight chill in the air, hoping it was that air conditioning and not a foretelling of the future.

The woman walked over to one of the safety deposit boxes lodged in the wall. She inserted a key and turned it and then turned to Scotty. "If you'll just put your key in, Mr. Prescott?"

Scotty did as the lady asked, turning the key his father had given him before stepping back. The woman opened the small door and pulled out a long rectangular metal box, carried it over to the table in the middle of the room, and set it down.

"I'll give you a few minutes," she said. "If you need anything, just let me know."

"Thank you," Scotty said.

Scotty, Chelsea, and I circled the small table and waited for the woman to leave. When I glanced at Scotty, he was just standing there staring down at the box, a perplexed frown on his face.

"Scotty?"

He shot me a weak smile. "I think I'm nervous."

"Do you want me to do it?"

He shook his head and reached down to pull the lid up on the box. I wasn't sure what I was expecting when we opened the box, but several stacks of cash weren't it.

"Money?" I whispered. "Your dad hid money in here?"

Why?

"That's not all that's in here." Scotty grabbed the stacks of money out and set them down on the table. What was left behind were several small jewelry boxes, a large manila envelope, and another smaller white envelope with Scotty's name on top.

Man, this could go sideways so fast.

Before grabbing anything out of the box, Scotty set his briefcase down on the table and opened it up. He stacked all of the cash in there and then reached for the little blue boxes.

When he opened the first one, he let out a small gasp. "This was my mother's. I had always assumed Cynthia had taken my mother's jewelry since I never saw it again after she married my father. I had no idea he'd hidden it away."

He placed the box in his briefcase and then went to the next box and the next until he had gone through all ten of them. Each one of them held jewelry of some sort, all belonging to his late mother.

I thought he was going to open the envelopes, but he just stuck them into his briefcase before closing the lid and locking it. "You're not going to look at them?"

Scotty shook his head. "I want to go somewhere else to open them."

I suppose I could understand that. If it was something life altering, Scotty was going to be a mess. He probably didn't want to fall apart in the vault of a bank. If it was something that pissed him off, same principal applied.

Better all around if we were somewhere else.