Page 40 of Something Borrowed

I’m drunk, not an idiot - but I don’t care.

It’s my last weekend of freedom and now I get to spend it with Rufino.

The car comes to a stop outside a tall building with a giant neon heart glowing half way up the side of it.

“Come on.” He says, pulling my door open and taking my hand.

He leads me inside and my stomach knots.

“Is this?” I turn in a circle, trying to take it all in but the colors are swimming and moving about too much.

“It’s a wedding chapel, vixen. We’re getting married.”

“Married?” I shout too loud, shock pulsing through me like electricity. I can’t get married. I’m only twenty-three. No ways. This is astupididea.

I turn to face Rufino my eyes wide with panic spilling from them.

He grins, grabs my jaw in his hand and kisses me.

The moment our lips touch my mind goes silent.

It’s a beautiful sensation of complete calm, then a crazy rush of passion. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself closer against him. My body belongs to him. Of course, I will marry him. We’re in Vegas, baby.

He kisses me until I am melted against him, until I’ve lost all sense of control. The control I never had to begin with.

“Let’s get ready.” He says, stepping away, but keeping his arm locked around my waist.

In a room to the side of the chapel he searches through racks of white dresses.

Pulling one out at a time and holding it up against me. Finally, he hands me a short, tight lacey body hugging dress.

“In there - put it on.” He points to a change room.

“Okie dokie.” I grin and stumble over my foot, grateful when he catches me.

In the change room I wiggle out of my blue and pink dress, holding onto the wall, and into the white lace wedding dress. Thisisfun. And crazy and wild and adventurous.

I can’t believe he wants to marry me.

For real.

Vegas weddingsarereal. Many people don’t understand that.

I slip my high heels back onto my feet and do my best to leave the change room looking elegant and not falling on my face again.

Rufino’s smile takes my breath away when he sees me.

His eyes graze over me and he shakes his head. “Fuck me, you look incredible.” He says, pulling me up against his broad, muscular chest.

“Your hair is a bit wild though.” He laughs, turning me around.

Half of the bun came out when I put my head out of the car window.

Rufino pulls my hair tie loose and brushes his fingers though my messy curls. He pulls it all up on top of my head and back into the not-as-messy-as-before bun.

When I turn around to face him again, he is holding out a little crystal box, cut from a pink stone, sitting on the palm of his hand and glittering in the light.

“What is this?” I ask, taking it from his hand.

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