Page 90 of Perfectly Wedded

“We found your bride,” a police officer cheerily reports.

“Where is she?”

“The airport, trying to book a flight out of here. Do you want us to stop her?”

“No, leave it to me.” If I hurry, the airport is only a few minutes away, and I’m the only one who can talk her out of this—if I can reach her in time.

“Best of luck,” the officer says.

“I’m gonna need it,” I shoot back while doing a U-turn in the middle of the road and then pressing hard on the gas pedal. At least the cops are too busy tracking down Sloan to give me a speeding ticket.

“Yeah, go get your wife,” the police officer says with a grin in his voice. “And while you’re at it, deal with your other issue.”

“What other problem?”

“She parked the limo in a no-parking zone.”

I mutter under my breath. “Let me guess—I’m getting a ticket.”

“Think of it as a wedding present—from the local police.”

“Wow, thanks! Just what we wanted,” I say, chuckling. “Well, I guess that makes us even.”

I text Brax a message that I’ve got a lead on Sloan at the airport. When I arrive, it takes me less than two seconds to find her. My eyes immediately land on the breathtaking woman in a stunning gown. She’s standing in a long line at the ticket counter, trying to pretend that everyone’snotstaring at a runaway bride who’s booking it out of town.

She doesn’t notice me striding toward her, doesn’t even turn around when I fall into line right behind her. I glance at the departure board for the next flight out of town, then lean in close, my lips just inches from her ear. “I hear Vegas is nice this time of year.”

She wheels around, her eyes blinking once as shock passes over her face. “How did you...?”

I shake my head. “You can’t speed out of town in a stolen limo and expect no one will notice.”

She doesn’t answer, just spins away from me. “I can’t believe the next flight out is to Vegas. Of all places.”

“Seems like a sign, don’t you think?” I shove my hands in my pockets. “The place where it all started and you became my wife.”

“You probably came here to talk me out of this, but I’ve already ruined things. Your NHL career. Your reputation. I need some time to think about how to fix this.”

I gently place a finger on her lips to stop her from panicking. “First off, you haven’t ruined anything. And second, I’m not talking you out of it.”

“You aren’t?”

“No.” I step next to her in line. “Because I’m going with you.”

Her head snaps toward me, eyes wide. “You can’t just leave. You’ve got a game this week. We need to let everything cool down after this story comes out.”

I turn to her. “So you think leaving will help?”

She looks at me with a stubborn glint in her eyes. “It might.”

“It won’t,” I say firmly. Then I take her left hand and run my thumb over the gold band, the sharp edges of the diamond. “Leaving doesn’t solve our problems. Unless you want to confirm whatThe Star Reportthinks is true—that you don’t love me.”

Remarkably, she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she looks down at the ring, my thumb stroking her finger gently. Her brows knit together. “Did you tell them our secret about why we married?”

“I told them the truth.”

Her head jerks up.

My thumb stills, but I don’t let go of her hand. “That I loved you then—and I’ve always loved you.”

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