Page 18 of Chasing His Bride

“Sorry?” I say.

“There won’t be a real marriage; we’re just getting wed for the certificate,” she says, and I know she’s clarifying this ends here.

I nod and finally step inside the chapel.

“Welcome to the White Chapel,” a guy behind the glass greets us with a big, wide smile. “Do you have an appointment?”

“I nodded. Six fifteen.”

“Wonderful, and have you brought your license?”

“Yes,” I say.

Amber stares at me. I already filled the details of the application while we were chatting at the pool. She turns her back to me and looks around the room; two couples are now waiting behind us.

“Flowers,” the reception guy asks. I turn to Amber; she shakes her head. “Ah, you just want the quickie version,” he snorts.

Amber’s body locks, and she looks like she’s about to bolt. I touch her lower back to ease her tension and feel the shiver as it shoots through her spine.

“The yellow and white mixed bouquet,” I say. The least I can do is soften it with flowers, but like Amber, I want this over.

“Do you have rings?”

“Yes,” I say.

We picked out some rings when we picked up the marriage license from the Clark County Marriage License Bureau; I needed a ring to prove my marriage to my grandfather, and I was glad when Amber relented.

She was insisting she didn’t need one; I was wicked when I said my friends wouldn’t believe it without a ring.

The following argument was she wanted something cheap and tacky. I bought her a thin gold and diamond band that cost a small fortune. It was the least I could do.

“Of course you do; neither of you are dressed the part. But hell, since when did wearing a tux or a white dress mean it was the start of a long-lasting marriage? I can tell the ones who will make it. It’s the ones like you two. Packed with sexual tension, so let’s make it official and you can consummate this union.”

Amber coughs; her face flushes, her eyes widen to saucers, but he’s half right. I’m desperate to consummate it.

“Let’s get the show going, fill these forms in and we’ll have you married in no time,” the reception man says, pushing some papers for us to sign.

Amber fills out the form and pushes it to me. She walks away as I fill in my section. After handing the forms in, I turn and head back in her direction, where she’s striding up and down, chatting to herself. I think she’s trying to talk herself out of a mini panic attack.

“This really is crazy,” she says to herself, muttering other words I don’t pick up, but I’m sure I heard a rare explicit leave her mouth. “It means nothing. It’s just a wedding. Who cares? I’ll be divorced in less than a year and it’ll be as if it never happened.” She laughs maniacally to herself, her hand waving over her warm face. “Still crazy. Yes, I’ll definitely be the winner... probably get locked up in a mental institute when I get home, but... hell, I’m only getting married once. At least I won’t die a spinster.”

“It is fucking crazy,” I say to her. “But maybe once in our lives, we have to do something we can tell our future kids.”

“I’m not planning on those either,” she says. “But would you really tell your kids you married a stranger in Vegas? Your real wife will have a fit with you.”

My stomach flips, and I shake my head slightly to clear it.

“But I think you’re right. It’s not a big deal, and we’ll laugh about it in the future. Let’s do it.” Her voice wavers, like she is still trying to convince herself.

I’m the most normal of all my friends, always rational, not impulsive. Yet here I am marrying a beautiful stranger in Vegas, of all places.

I put it off for five years, since the offer from my grandfather.

Yet here I am, almost begging a girl to marry me and giving her one million dollars for the pleasure. I could have married so many women in New York. Some had practically begged me to marry them.

Am I fucking stupid?

“You can back out,” she whispers in my ear. She gives me a massive grin that tells me she knows I’m nervous.

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