The ink was barely dry on the marriage certificate when Rafe leaned over the table, his bold signature beside yours.

His jaw tensed slightly as he looked up, blue eyes locking with yours, and for a moment, the world faded away.

Two months ago, you were just in the Outer Banks for a family vacation, escaping Rome for the summer.

Your English was broken, your world loud and crowded, and then came Rafe Cameron. The cocky, rich Kook who saw you like no one else ever had.

It was meant to be nothing. A short summer crush. But the moment your eyes met, something shifted. You saw past his arrogance.

He saw past your accent, your hesitations, right to the girl with quiet strength and hidden scars.

Now, here you were. His wife. Your family watching just steps away, half in shock, half unsure whether to cheer or cry.

“Done,” Rafe murmured as the notary smiled and gathered the papers. But his eyes stayed on you.

His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, steady, grounding, but there was a possessiveness in his grip, like letting go wasn’t an option.

Then, out of nowhere, he grabbed your leg and dipped you back, his strong arm holding you as his lips crashed onto yours in a kiss that left your head spinning.

Your arms wrapped around him, fingers in his hair, heart racing.

When he finally pulled away, forehead pressed to yours, his breath warm, a crooked smile tugged at his lips.

“Had to make it official,” he said, voice low and husky.