Page 79 of Stick Work

“Still, she could have.”

“Even if she did, my parents aren’t going to think we’d really got married like that.”

Genuine worry flickers across her face. “You don’t think they’ll be mad that I’m wearing this, do you? I mean, I don’t know a lot about superstitions, but I’m sure the girl you’re not really marrying should not be wearing the family ring. Isn’t that like super bad luck or something?” She tugs on it again, frowning. “Maybe we can find a jeweler and see if he can get it off.”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

She pinches her cheek. “Why am I so swollen?”

“We could take a swim later. The cold water might help.”

Her eyes narrow. She points her fork at me, accusation in the air. “So you’re saying I am swollen.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her dramatics. “Babe, no. You’re beautiful as always, but the heat could be messing with your fingers.” I wink. “Or maybe all the sex.”

Without missing a beat, she says, “I actually think sex helps alleviate swelling.”

I grin. “It certainly does for me.”

She looks at me, blinking before the meaning lands, then boom, she bursts out laughing.

“Oh, Elias,” she says, trying to pull herself together. “I’ve underestimated you. Maybe you’ll get your own show here after all.”

“Smart ass.”

“But seriously,” she says, puckering her lips in thought. “We need to get this off.”

“We will.”

With that, we finish eating, and take our time in the shower, maybe too much time, and then finally head down to the main level. The moment we step off the elevator, something flickers at the edge of my vision. A blur of movement. A rush of white. I turn instinctively, and Taylor does the same. I freeze trying to process what I just saw. Taylor grips my arm and I turn to her.

“Was that…”

“Roman?” she finishes, confusion all over her face. “I think so.”

“Was he chasing…”

“A bride?” she finishes, this time I see intrigue. “I think so.”

We stare at each other, wide eyed. “Should we be worried?”

She lifts her finger, wiggling that damn ring. “We have enough to be worried about.”

I exhale. “Right. Whatever Roman has going on, he’ll have to figure it out on his own.”

With that, we step out into the Vegas sunshine, letting the warm air wrap around us. Taylor lifts her face to the sun, soaking it all in before we head back to snowy Boston tomorrow.

We walk the strip, stopping at souvenir shops, snapping pictures, soaking up the chaotic energy of the city. We wander into multiple jewelry stores, but they’re all packed. Neither of us wants to waste our limited time waiting in line, so we decide to stick with our backup plan—a cold midnight swim after the wedding and fireworks. The ring will come off one way or another.

Now here we are back in the suite, with Taylor standing before me, adjusting my tie with delicate precision. Her fingers skim my collar and shoulders and I don’t even hide the thickening of my dick in my unforgiving dress pants.

“You look so handsome,” she says quietly, her hands brushing imaginary lint from my shoulders.

I take her hand, giving her a slow spin, drinking in her beauty. The silky cobalt blue dress, the one we picked out together back in Boston, clings to her in all the right ways.

“You are so gorgeous, T.”

She smiles, running her fingers through her hair, but my eyes zero in on the ring, the way it catches the light…the way it belongs on her finger for real.

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