"Do you even care anymore?" + Huntingbird, please?
“Do you even care anymore?” Bobbi asked, slamming the binder down on the table with a huff.
“Honestly, Bob, no!” Hunter buried his head in his hands. “I do not give a rat’s arse whether we choose navy blue or midnight blue for the place settings. I do not care whether the cake is vanilla or lemon-vanilla. I do not care whether we sit your parents next to Izzy or next to Mack. I don’t care! What I care about is that at the end of the day, you’re my wife. And unless you’re going to divorce me because I let you pick the wrong shade of blue, I’m going to keep saying I don’t care and letting you pick what you want.” He lifted his head out of his hands to look her in the eye. “I don’t care about the planning. I care about the part where I get to marry you.”
“...We could just elope.”
“I’ve been saying that from the beginning!” Hunter said, throwing his hands into the air.
“I just... I don’t want people thinking we didn’t think about this.” Bobbi slumped forward.
“Love, people will think what they want to think no matter what we do.” Hunter reached across the table to run his hand through her hair. “The only reason I haven’t already gouged my eyes out is because I thought you wanted the big, crazy wedding. But if you don’t, please say so or we’ll have to keep driving each other insane.”
Bobbi considered it for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Is the courthouse still open?”
Hunter grinned.
