Page 150 of Owen North

Poppy: You kid, but it’s a real thing, my darling.

Jessica: Okay my beautiful gala girls, I’ve finally located my husband and have slipped my vibe in his hand, and we’re calling it a night. We won’t be at breakfast either, so we’ll see you in a few months.

Jenna: Wait! Is our next gala meeting next week, Charlize? I can’t remember what was decided.

Charlize: Yes, next week. I’ll text the info.

Two weeks after I moved into Owen’s condo, I got a call from the Scholarship Fund who I helped plan the gala for. They were looking for an Event Manager to co-ordinate their galas and other fundraising events. My mother recommended me for the job. And my girls use their network to help me do so much good work in the world. Jessica dubbed us the Gala Girls. I loved that she remembered that little detail from one of our first conversations.

Jenna: OK, great! Beckett and I are heading up to our room now too. I loved our weekend xx

Adeline: I’m already in my room and there’s no way I’m allowing Jameson out of my sight for breakfast in the morning. I think we need three nights next time. Two is never enough with you girls xx

Charlize: I love you all xx

“We’ve got a date with Elvis,” Owen says, taking my hand after Bradford leaves us to go to the bar.

I look up at him. “It’s a good thing I wore a red ribbon for you tonight.”

He eyes the ribbon around my waist. “Why?”

I smile. “I can’t marry you while not wearing a red ribbon. It just wouldn’t be right.”

He catches my lips in a kiss, his hands all over me in so many inappropriate ways. He kisses me so thoroughly I’m concerned he’s going to try to get friskier with me than he should in public. When he finally comes up for air, he says, “I’m almost tempted to skip Elvis.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you on your knees.”

Holy mother ofgood girls suck dick in Vegas.

I grip his hand. “Right, Mr. North, one of us has to take me to my Elvis and make it so you can call me Mrs. North the next time you tell me to be a good girl, and it has to be you.”

Owen takes me to Elvis.

I think he’s right: I think this isthe realElvis. He’s that old.

Owen purchases the “Burning Love” package which gets us one song from Elvis.

I tell him he’s stingy for not buying the package that includes extra songs and Elvis-inspired sunglasses.

He tells me he’s saving cash for when I take up my shopping addiction.

I only tear up once while we say “I Do”. I think I don’t cry more because of Elvis and the fun Owen and I have getting married with him.

After, Owen carries me into the elevator on our way up to our suite.

He then places me down, pulls me close, and kisses my neck. “I love you Mrs. North.”

I don’t think I was even nearly prepared for how good those words sound.

I press myself against him and kiss him. When the elevator stops three floors up, Owen drags his mouth from mine and turns me in his arms, pulling my back against his chest.

I look at the couple of who get in the elevator. The woman runs her eyes over me with judgment. I’m unsure if she’s judging my dress or Owen’s hands that are all over me.

“Darling,” I say, running my hands down over his arms, bringing my hands to his and threading our fingers together. “You really need to stop trying to fuck me in elevators. We might miss our floor.”

Owen’s lips graze my ear as he chuckles and murmurs, “Trouble.”

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