Page 104 of One More Time
‘Oh, shit,’ she exclaimed, after her mind caught up. It was a convertible, but the soft top was up. ‘It’s the car fromSixteen Candles, isn’t it?’
‘Same model,’ Sonny replied.
‘Cool,’ she said. ‘Thanks, Sonny,’ she trilled as she slipped into the back.
‘My pleasure, Miss Ciccone,’ he replied, using Madonna’s real last name.
‘Nice,’ Lucy replied with a fist bump.
Lucy plopped herself in the back seat and took a deep, cleansing breath.
Phew. Made it.
The car started up and headed off into Las Vegas.
‘Oh, hi!’ she said to Nicky as he scooted closer to her. She bussed a quick smooch on his cheek, then wiped the red lipstick off with her thumb. She asked, ‘How was your day?’
‘Good,’ he replied dully, before sitting back in the seat. His eyes were focused on the rearview mirror, and he was suspiciously quiet.
She asked, ‘What’s up? Something happen with Wade?’
A ton of family was in town for the final Super show,including Nicky’s sons. Nicky and Wade had gone out golfing. Nicky really only enjoyed golf when he was playing with Alice Cooper. Maybe that was it?
‘Nope,’ Nicky said. ‘All good.’
‘Hey,’ Lucy said. She felt Nicky jolt beside her, but decided to ignore it. ‘Can I be the one to tell Hooper that he looks nothing like Rick Astley and everything like a dirty old man who likes to expose his junk to unsuspecting ladies on the subway?’
Nicky laughed, but didn’t look at her. ‘Sure,’ he said.
‘Good, thanks,’ Lucy said. ‘Where are we going for dinner? Think I’m underdressed?’ she joked, waving a hand to indicate her lace-covered bodice.
‘Um, about that,’ Nicky drawled.
Lucy followed Nicky’s gaze through the window and yelled, ‘What the hell?’
Outside the Rolls-Royce, past a tidy sidewalk and a couple of potted cactus plants, was a sturdy square office building. Not a restaurant. Big cursive letters over the door spelled out,Marriage License Bureau.
Nicky turned toward her, and she noticed that he was wearing a black tuxedo T-shirt.
Oh shit.
Lucy carped, ‘I thought you were going to be Spicoli.’
‘I said a character fromFast Times,’ he retorted. ‘YouassumedSpicoli.’
‘Holy shit,’ Lucy said, the fist rays of enlightenment dawning. ‘I’m a …brideand you’re …’
‘A groom, yeah.’
Nicky smiled his soft, pleading smile. The one that Lucy knew, after all their time together, was the prelude to him asking for something. It was usually something kinky, but this felt different.
He took her hands in his, focused those damn irresistible green eyes on her. ‘Lou, I know you said you would only get married again if it was accidentally, but it turns out that’s not actually legal outside terrible Nineties sitcoms. And, fuck do I want it to be legal, baby.’ He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a slip of paper. ‘I got Chloe to help me fill out the forms online. All we have to do is hand them this piece of paper.’
Nicky turned one of her hands over and rested the narrow sheet on her palm, their names and a string of numbers and letters typed on it.
Nicky continued, ‘Allyouhave to do is say yes and go in there with me and hand over this piece of paper. They’ll give us a license and we’ll go down to the drive-thru at the Little White Wedding Chapel.’
‘Just like Elvis and Priscilla,’ Lucy said dumbly, because her addled brain was not functioning properly.
