Page 72 of Stick Work

I try, gently twisting the thing, but it won’t budge. “Keep it behind your back. I’ll snap it off when we get back to the room.” She nods, and I take her other hand, giving her a tug. She drags her feet. “I can’t do this alone, T.”

“I know.” She reluctantly kicks one foot out in front of the other, and when we walk into the ballroom, I find Grandma chatting with Rip beneath the wedding arbor. What is he doing here? I figured he’d still be out partying.

He spots us and a wide, knowing grin spreads across his face. Let me guess. Grandma told him what she’d just witnessed in the hallway. By the time we reach them, Rip is already reaching for Taylor’s hand. Before she can hide it, he pulls it forward, examining the ridiculous plastic ring.

“Classic,” he jokes. “I guess a congratulations is in order.” He claps me on the back. “I had no idea it was so serious.”

“Uh—”

He grins at Taylor as Grandma beams up at us. “I guess there will be no date for us after we beat Boston next game, huh?”

Like that was ever going to happen.

“Uh, no. No date,” Taylor mumbles, looking at me, clearly waiting for me to fix this.

But before I can, Rip gestures toward the decorated wedding arbor above us, his grin widening. “Hey, this is Vegas, where spontaneity is the name of the game. And look at this gorgeous place.” His grin holds a measure of mischief. “It’s all set up for tomorrow. But tonight…I can marry you both.” With a nudge, he jokes, “Much better than an Elvis impersonator wedding. Amiright or amiright?”

Oh, he’s right, because we have a marriage license and an Elvis impersonator wedding would be official.

“So what do you say? Want to get married? Right here? Right now?”

I don’t even need to look at Grandma to know she’s dancing in her sensible walking shoes.

What is even happening in my life?

21

Taylor

I take in the pure panic on Elias’s face, and strangely something inside me settles. Maybe because this whole thing, the fake dating, the marriage license, the ring, and the misunderstanding is already so ridiculous that leaning into it feels easier than trying to fix it. And also, maybe it’s the only way we don’t crush Grandma’s heart. This holiday, anyway.

“Grandma,” Elias begins, his voice tense, ready to shut this down.

Grandma waves him off, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, come on. This is just for fun. Humor an old lady.”

He shakes his head, a no forming on his lips, so I put my hand on his arm to stop him. His gaze jerks to mine, no doubt searching my face for the same panic and resistance he’s feeling, but he doesn’t find it. Instead, what he’s finding is gentle understanding.

“Taylor?” His voice is softer now, uncertain.

I glance at Rip and Grandma, who are anxiously waiting. “Excuse us.” I drag Elias a few steps away, out of earshot.

The second I stop his gaze narrows, looking at me like I might have lost my mind. “T, you’re not seriously considering this.”

Okay, I get it. I’m the last person this man wants to marry. But this isn’t real.

I lift a shoulder. “We’ve humored her this far, what can it hurt? It’s not like Rip can really marry us.”

“We can’t do this, Taylor. It’s crazy.”

I snort out a laugh. “Crazier than fake dating and me being here for your friend’s wedding?”

“Yes, it’s crazier than that.” His gaze races over my face again. “I don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable doing, or something you’ll regret, just to avoid hurting Grandma.”

I hesitate for a second. Maybe this is too big, too heavy…too crazy. Especially since there’s a part of me that’s fallen for this man, that wants it to be real. Which is crazy. I never wanted this, not when I have so much living left to do before settling down. God, what is happening to me? I

I laugh, trying for light, and say, “It’s not real, so how can I regret it?”

Oh, girl, you can…you really can regret this.

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