Page 73 of Stick Work

He runs his hand through his hair and takes a long breath. As he exhales, I sense something change in him. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says.

“It’s not going to hurt anything.” I step a little closer and he puts his hand on my hip. “I don’t know how to say this, but Grandma isn’t getting any younger, and this might be the only wedding of yours she ever gets to see.” My voice dips lower. “I mean…yeah, it’s fake. But…we could give her this. Just for tonight.”

He stares at me long and hard, emotions—shock, confusion, understanding—flickering across his face so fast I barely catch them. Then, just as fast, something inside him seems to soften. Catching me by surprise, he bends and presses his lips to mine. Warm. Firm. Mind-numbing.

He breaks the kiss and as his lips hover near mine, I blink up at him, breathless. “What was that for?”

“For being so…thoughtful.” His lips graze mine again. “And kind.”

A slow teasing smile teases the corners of my lips. “You know,” I murmur. “I might not just be doing this for Grandma.”

Speaking of Grandma, she darts from the room, and I really hope she’s not getting herself, or us, in any more trouble than we’re already in.

His eyes darken, a new kind of need there. “Oh?”

I glance around, take in the exquisite ballroom. This is the kind of place people dream about for their wedding day. “We’re in this gorgeous hotel in Vegas, and let’s be real. I’ll probably never have a room this nice if I ever decide to get married.” I give him a playful wink. “Plus, you know what marriage means.”

His brow lifts. “Consummation?”

I poke his chest. “Now you’re thinking.”

A wicked smirk spreads across his handsome face, and in one swift move, he yanks me against him, his grip firm, possessive, and I love it. His lips graze my ear, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “We don’t need a fake wedding for that, T. I was always going to…” His fingers tighten around my waist. “…put my cock in you.”

A hard, needy shudder runs through me. “Oh God.” His teeth graze my jaw and it takes effort to speak. “But from what I hear, wedding nights are magical.” His chuckle curls through me. “What do you say, get this show on the road, because the sooner we’re done…”

He shifts uncomfortably. “I might need a minute.”

I pucker my lips. “I heard doing math problems can help with that. What is the square root of four thousand, three hundred and ninety?”

His brow arches. “Really?”

“That didn’t help?”

“No, because I came up with sixty-nine.”

I burst out laughing at that, and whack his chest. “Of course you did.” Rip clears his throat when Grandma comes rushing back in, beaming with a new kind of excitement. “Pull it together, Anchor. If there was ever a time I really needed you to ground me, it’s now.”

A change comes over him and he straightens. “I’ve got you, T.” He takes my hand and as we walk back to Rip and Grandma, I note she’s standing there with a bouquet of flowers in her hand and a veil draped over her arm like she’s been preparing for this moment all night.

“You don’t have to,” Grandma tells me, gazing longingly at the veil. “I just thought it would be a nice touch.”

“I think so too. Would you do the honors?’

She gives me a wide smile, her hands gentle as she places the veil on my head. I bend a little, helping her settle it into place and as she fluffs it, Rip’s voice breaks the silence.

“Do you have the marriage license?”

“Oh,” Elias says. “Okay, we’re really doing this, huh?” He glances at me, eyes wide with disbelief at how far Rip is taking this. “Taylor.” I pull it from my purse and hand it over. Rip takes the paper from the envelope and reads it with a level of seriousness that surprises me. When he’s done, he gives a satisfied nod and places it on a nearby table before turning back to us.

“Did you write your own vows?” he asks, that measure of seriousness still about him as he raises a brow.

“Spontaneity, remember?” Elias reminds him, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “There was no time for that.”

I smooth my hair from my face, my gaze flickering to Elias as he shifts to see me. My hand stills, as his eyes move over me, a distant, thoughtful, almost adoring look moving across his face. What is going through his head right now? I don’t know, but if this were real, I’d definitely want my future husband to look at me like that in this moment.

I tear my gaze away and turn my attention to Rip. “Do we need to have our own vows?” Maybe there is a way out of this that doesn’t hurt Grandma’s feelings.

“No, I can work around that. Taylor, can you please remove the ring and hand it to Elias.”

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