What Happened In Vegas (Love Is #1.5) - Abby Brooks

WHAT HAPPENED IN VEGAS (DAKOTA & DOMINIC’S WEDDING)

ABBY BROOKS

LITTLE BIRD PUBLISHING, LLC

CONTENTS Copyright Dedication Connect With Abby Brooks Also by Abby Brooks Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Also by Abby Brooks

Copyright © 2016 by Abby Brooks All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Created with Vellum

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ALSO BY ABBY BROOKS The Moore Brothers Series Blown Away (Ian and Juliet) Carried Away (James and Ellie) Swept Away (Harry and Willow) Break Away (Lilah and Cole)

Love Is… Love Is Crazy (Dakota & Dominic) What Happened in Vegas (Dakota & Dominic’s Wedding) Love Is Beautiful (Chelsea & Max)

1

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, STAYS IN VEGAS, RIGHT? NOT WHEN THE STORY IS THIS FUCKING CRAZY. NOT when I’m flying out there with the man of my dreams. A man I met and fell in love with and knew without a doubt that he was my forever and ever in a matter of months. A man who tried to leave me because he thought I was better off without him only to show up at the bar where I work with a ring, an apology, and a pair of plane tickets to Vegas. The words marry me on his lips. Dominic Kane. The man I’m destined to spend my life with. The man I couldn’t be more perfectly crazy in love with. “You excited?” Dominic takes my hand as we head out of McCarran International Airport, following the cute little limo driver who greeted us with a sign that said “The future Mr. and Mrs. Kane” just a moment ago. Those words stretch and echo in my mind and this little flower of happiness blooms in my heart. I never want to be without him again. Ever. “Very.” I am definitely out of my element here. As much as I’ve wanted to travel for, oh … you know … my whole entire life, the only time I really left my hometown of Townsbury, Ohio was when Dominic took me to the Grand Canyon a month ago. I was wide-eyed and open-mouthed then, too. Staring around the airport like the country bumpkin I am. But now? This experience trumps all others. Even the airport in Vegas has slot machines and so many signs with so many neon lights I don’t know where to look. There’s sound and activity and everything already feels completely over the top. I love it. It’s everything I’ve been missing in my life. “Welcome to Vegas,” says our driver as we step out into the night and I’m not kidding, I shiver with excitement. “I can’t believe I’m finally here,” I say to Dominic as we follow our driver towards a cream-colored stretch limo. I raise my eyebrows at him and he unleashes that wide, shit-eating grin I love so much. The driver opens the door and we climb in while she deals with our bags. “Woah,” I whisper, overwhelmed by the opulence inside. “I’ve never been in one of these before.” There’s a fully stocked minibar and even more neon lights. It

looks more like a shrunken version of a private room in a club than, you know, an actual vehicle. “Want a drink?” Dominic asks, gesturing towards the bar. “Hell yes I want a drink, but there’s no way I’m letting you make it for me. You’re sweet, but mixing drinks isn’t your strong point.” “Hey!” Dominic tries to look wounded, but he’s too busy smiling at me. The look in his eyes is intense. Open. Warm. I can literally see his love for me and it makes my toes curl with happiness. “What?” I ask, blushing under the intensity of it all. “I missed you. I love you. I’m glad to see you. I’m so happy you said yes.” “Ditto on all counts.” I crawl into his lap, straddling him, and press my lips to his. His hands glide up my back and I run my fingers up into his hair. The sound of our breath and the rustle of our clothes fills the small space and the thump of the driver’s door closing makes me smile against his mouth. I look towards the front of the limo. The partition is down. The driver can’t see us. I roll my hips against his hardening cock. “I missed this, too.” Dominic puts his hands on my waist and grinds himself into me, releasing a zing of pleasure and desire that wings its way through my body like a lightening bug on crack zooming around inside me. “Ditto.” I kiss him again as the limo roars to life and grin against his lips. “Are we really doing this?” “Yes, Dakota. We are most definitely making out in a limousine.” “No, silly. I mean, are we really getting married? No plans. No engagement period. I mean, you haven’t even met my parents!” I run my hands up his arms, just so glad to feel him again. “When I woke up this morning, I hadn’t spoken to you in weeks. I thought we were done. And here we are, making out in a stretch limo in Las-fucking-Vegas where we are going to get married.” “Are you having doubts?” He pulls back a little to get a better look at me. “No.” I say it and I mean it. “Not at all. It’s just crazy, you know? This morning I was a lonely bartender with a shattered heart, and now? I’m marrying the man of my dreams and we’re going to travel the world together, you taking pictures and me writing a travel blog. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted and it just doesn’t feel real yet. That’s all.” I trace my finger around the swirling tattoos that decorate his arms. It all feels too good to be true and as much as I know what they say about these kind of things, if I pay extra close attention to how I’m feeling, I know in my soul that it is true. That I am for him and he is for me and we’re really, truly getting married. That we have the kind of love that’s going to stick. That we’ll grow old together, holding each other’s hands and fucking like rabbits the whole way. “So,” Dominic says, pulling me close so he can nuzzle my neck. He nibbles my ear and kisses that spot at my jaw that drives me so crazy. “Are you going to make me a drink or what?” “I’ve got other things on my mind right now.” I press my hips into his and

judging by the bulge in his pants pushing up against me, he’s got the very same things on his mind, too. “Ditto,” he says, smiling devilishly at me. “But it’s been too long since I’ve had you. I don’t want to rush things in a cramped limo. I want to stretch you out on the bed and have time to show you what you mean to me. To remind you what it means to be mine.” “You didn’t seem to mind that time on the plane.” Heat pools between my legs as I remember the sex in the bathroom on our way to Arizona. It was fast and hard and more about need than pleasure. Although pleasure was definitely involved. No doubt about that. I roll my hips again and let my eyes burn down into his, running my hands up my body to squeeze my breasts. “Fuck, Dakota. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you wanted me to take you right here…” He grabs my hips and thrusts into me. “Right now.” Another thrust and I moan. I’m so wet I’m going to need to change my panties when we get to wherever we’re going. “That you’re not at all interested in having me take my time.” “You have no idea how much I need you.” I love the way Dominic takes control of me. He orders me around, takes me like he owns me—which, in a way he does. I love him that much. I need him to take control now. There’s no way I can wait until we’re at the hotel. I fiddle with his pants, my eyes locked on his, my bottom lip captured between my teeth. “Stop.” The hard edge of control is in his voice. I call it his bedroom voice and it makes goosebumps flare out across my skin every time I hear it. I do as I’m told and eagerly await another order. “Make me a drink, woman.” Pouting, I climb off his lap and pour him a couple fingers of whiskey, neat, just the way he likes it and hand it to him with a flourish. He takes a sip, eyes searing into mine the whole time. “Now, make yourself a drink.” “Please, Dominic,” I say, still pouting. “I want you so bad.” He raises one eyebrow. “Do as you’re told, Dakota.” That razor sharp edge of control is still in his voice. Maybe this is all part of the foreplay. Maybe I should stop pouting and start doing what he tells me so we can hurry up and get to the part of the night with all the orgasms. Because fuck, do I ever need an orgasm. Or two. Or … four. I grin as I make my drink. “What’s making you smile?” “Thinking about you.” “That smile looks like you’re thinking about more than just me.” “I’m thinking about having you inside me and all the orgasms I intend to have over the rest of our life together. I’ve really missed your magic penis.” “Believe me, it’s missed you, too.” He slides down in his seat, widening his legs and thrusting his hips forward. It’s the single hottest movement I’ve ever seen. “Take a drink, Dakota.”

I take a sip. “All of it.” I raise an eyebrow and do as he tells me, holding eye contact as I finish off my whiskey. “Your turn,” I say, turning on my one-thousand-watt smile. Dominic winks at me and throws back his drink. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.” The edge is gone from his voice and I can tell we’re not going to have hot limo sex. “I missed the hell outta you, Kane.” I pour us each another couple fingers of whiskey because, hey! It’s free. And hey! We’re in Vegas. And hey! We’re about to get married. “So what’s the plan? How do you want to do this?” I ask as I hand him his drink. The limo jostles a little as we turn onto a street and I settle into the smooth leather seat next to my future husband. We clink our glasses together and throw back the amber liquid. It burns my throat on the way down and tastes so much like him I might just explode with happiness. “I was thinking it would be me and you, and you know, we’d say our vows and exchange rings and then call each other husband and wife.” Dominic grins at me. “Do you know of some other way?” “You know what I mean.” I slap him on the arm and immediately regret it. I’m working hard on my impulse control and I know not everyone likes to be hit as much as I seem to like hitting them. “I was kind of thinking we could get married by Elvis.” “Uhh…” Dominic gives me an incredulous look. “I don’t think he’s available.” This time I do slap him. “You know what I mean. An impersonator.” He laughs. “Ohhhh. That makes a lot more sense.” The view on the other side of the window catches my attention. There are lights and people and energy and holy shit I can’t believe how amazing it all is! The biggest city I’ve ever been to is Cincinnati and this isn’t even in the same league. I press my face to the glass like a child and stare, mesmerized. “It’s something, isn’t it?” asks Dominic. “Wow.” I glance at him, only to find my attention dragged right back out the window. “It’s everything I ever imagined it to be. More.” I look at him. “Thank you.” “No, Dakota. Thank you.” He slides his hand up my cheek and into my hair. Pulls me in for another kiss, the taste of whiskey on his tongue making me feel like I’ve finally come home. Like I’ve finally the person I’m supposed to be. Complete. Whole. Real. “Say it again,” he says, pressing his forehead to mine. “Say what again?” “Say that you want me. That you want this. That we’re going to get married and spend the rest of our life together and the idea doesn’t scare you to death.” “I’m not scared in the least,” I say and mean it. “You don’t think this is crazy?”

“It’s totally crazy.” I smile and run my hands up those big, muscular arms again. “But it couldn’t be more perfect.

2

“SO,” SAYS DOMINIC AS I POUR US YET ANOTHER DRINK. “THE PLAN.” “Yes!” I hand him the glass and promise myself I’ll go slow with this one. The last thing I need is to get totally drunk and waste time with a hangover. “Tell me. I want to know.” Dominic settles into the seat. Throws an arm up on the back and takes a drink. “I managed to get us the penthouse suite at the Bellagio.” He waggles his eyebrows. “We’re going to be living it up like the one-percenters, baby.” “Isn’t that wickedly expensive?” I know he doesn’t have a ton of money. He’s not big on the whole material possessions thing, but then again, neither am I. “It is.” He unleashes his blindingly attractive smile on me and I can’t help but smile in return. “You are so beautiful. Hold on a second.” He pulls out his phone. “I need a picture.” “Of course you do.” I try to sound like it’s a big pain in the ass, but I love his pictures. He pulls me in close, waits for the exact moment that my fake smile fades away and my real smile takes its place, and then takes the most beautiful picture of us since the last one he took of us. The lighting in the limo is amazing and it just looks so Las Vegas. He immediately uploads it to Instagram, tags me, and adds a few hashtags. “So yeah,” he says when he’s done. “The Bellagio penthouse is way out of my … our … price range. But we’re getting the whole experience for free. And I mean the entire experience. Room service. Drinks. Chips for the casino. We even get one of their most expensive wedding packages. Massages. Stylists. The whole deal. But,” he says and takes another drink. “We have to upload all our pictures to my Instagram account and the blog and we—well you—have to write an article about the experience. “That sounds very fancy.” My dreams of a cute little Elvis wedding go flying out the window. The last thing I want is for him to see my disappointment because what really matters is that he and I are going to pledge our lives to each other. The wedding is just the background, you know? I just wanted something a little less Bridezilla and a little more us. “It is fancy. We’ll be treated like royalty.” He’s trying to gauge my reaction and I

refuse for him to see me be anything but happy. “It sounds amazing,” I say, beaming and bouncing a little on the edge of the seat. His dark eyes study me. “What is it?” he asks. I take a sip of my drink and then put it down on my lap. I really do need to slow down. The last time we were supposed to come to Vegas I drank too much and fell off the edge of the Grand Fucking Canyon. Maybe I should learn from that mistake. “What do you mean?” I widen my eyes and put on a confused face. Dominic laughs “You’re utterly adorable when you’re trying to hide something, you know that? Adorable and transparent. Not buying it, Dakota. Something’s up. Spill the beans.” “I don’t know.” I bring the drink halfway up, desperate for a distraction, before I remember that I was going to slow down and put it back on my knee. “It just doesn’t sound very much like us.” “No,” he says and bobs his head in agreement. “It doesn’t. I went for the grand gesture after being such a dick and disappearing like I did. Chelsea said—” “Ahhh. Yes. This has my older sister written all over it. A penthouse at The Bellagio is so right up her alley.” Dominic looks crestfallen. “Shit. Of course. I knew I should have gone with my gut.” Damn it. The last thing I wanted to do was make him feel bad. I take a drink because fuck it, I’m in Vegas and by the look of it, we’re in the middle of pulling up at our hotel. “Dominic,” I say and take his hand. “This whole thing is perfect. Utterly perfect. You know why?” “Why?” “Because I’m with you and that’s all that matters. The end. Period. Hallelujah. Amen.” I look out the window just as we pull to a stop in front of the Bellagio and holy shit, the fountain. I’ve heard of the Fountains of Bellagio before, but the stories have not even come close to doing it justice. “Wow,” I say, setting my glass down on the bar and hopping out of the limo as soon as it pulls to a stop. Dominic follows me out, wraps his arm around my shoulder, and pulls me in close. It feels to be wrapped up in him. “It’s something, isn’t it?” he asks. “I have no words.” “Well, you better find the words, woman. You’re gonna have to write an article about it soon. Very soon.” Our driver steps out of the limo and smiles at us. “First time in Vegas?” she asks. Dominic jerks his chin towards me. “Hers.” He presses a kiss into the top of my head. “What brings you here?” I’m pretty tiny. Fun-sized, as my friends say. But this woman is almost as small as I am, with adorable curly brown hair. It’s kind of nice, looking someone in the eye without having to tilt my head back until I get a crick in my neck.

“Craziness,” I answer, looking up at Dominic with lust burning in my eyes. “Adventure.” The driver gets a funny look. One that says she understands my hidden message completely even though I have no idea what she thinks she understands. “If you’re feeling a little crazy,” she says and reaches into the limo and pulls out a thick black binder. She passes it to Dominic who opens it and holds it so we can both have a look at what’s inside. It takes a second to understand what I’m seeing. Each page is filled with cards, like baseball cards, but with women on them. I’m talking sexy women doing naughty things. He turns the page. Very naughty things. Each card has a name and a phone number on it and I finally realize that these women are strippers. And, judging by some of the things I’m seeing, it’s more than likely that they’re willing to be a little more than strippers, if you catch my drift. Dominic laughs and snaps the binder shut while I just stand there with my mouth hanging open. “Not that kind of adventure,” he says as he hands the thing back to the tiny woman with a knowing smirk on her face. “I’ll tell you what. If you change your mind, you just let me know.” She hands him a card that he glances at and shoves in his pocket. “I’m here a lot.” She doesn’t say anything else, just walks away to gather our bags. Maybe it’s the liquor. Maybe it’s the atmosphere. Maybe it says something about my sexuality, but the thought of watching Dominic watching some other woman dance for him, the thought of watching him get all hot and bothered, well, for whatever reason, right now, that has me getting all hot and bothered. “You sure?” I ask him, licking my lips. “You don’t even kind of want to hire a stripper?” His eyes go wide. “Are you telling me you’re cool with me hiring a stripper?” I blush but don’t look away. “Maybe.” “You are officially the coolest chick I know.” He shakes his head and shoves his hands in his back pockets. “I mean, you already held that title, but it’s now completely official.” “So, is that a yes? You want to ask her to get the binder back out?” And of course, now that I’ve been proclaimed Coolest Chick Ever, I’m suddenly terrified at the thought of having another woman in the room with us. Even if she’s not going to do anything but perform her little striptease and then leave me with my riled up man. But… What if she’s hot? What if he wants her more than he wants me? What if, oh God! What if I think I’m signing up for a simple striptease and he thinks I’m signing up for a threesome? “No way,” says Dominic, draping his arm around my shoulder and pressing a kiss onto the top of my head. “I only have eyes for one woman. Dakota London. The future Mrs. Dominic Kane.”

3

THANKFULLY, OUR DRIVER RETURNS WITH OUR BAGS SO I HAVE A WAY TO COVER MY COMPLETE AND UTTER relief over the fact that we’re not going to be hiring a stripper tonight. What the hell was I thinking? Dominic tips her and thanks her while I stare out at the sea of lights and people around me. I can’t believe I’m here. “Ready?” asks Dominic as our driver hops in the limo and pulls away. “Hell yes, I’m ready.” I have no idea what time it is because we just crossed three time zones, but I do know it’s late and I should be tired. I’m not. I’m a little tipsy, but totally wired and sleep is the last thing on my mine. We head inside and there’s no way I look even remotely cultured or graceful right now. I’m staring, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Just standing still in the middle of the entry, looking very much like the country bumpkin that I am. “Wow.” I mouth the word to Dominic and he places his hand on the small of my back and leads me to the check-in desk. As soon as they learn who we are, they jump into high alert mode, yes-sirring him and acting like he’s the highest roller of all high rollers ever. The way they’re fawning over us catches the attention of the other people checking in and everyone keeps staring. I do love an audience so, of course, I perk up. Stand a little straighter. Smile a little brighter. They usher us straight out of the general check-in area because apparently, we were supposed to check-in at the Chairman’s Lounge for a ‘private welcome experience.’ Whatever that means. A bellboy takes our bags and we’re whisked away into an exquisite room where they offer us drinks and delicacies while they finish getting us registered. I try very hard to act like this is all part of what I’m used to. Try to take it all in stride the way Dominic is. He flashes that smile around like this is just how he lives, charming every person he comes in contact with. Before I know it, we’re upstairs. In the goddamn Bellagio penthouse. I mean, really. Whose life is this? Surely not mine. “I take it all back,” I say as soon as the bellboy leaves. I stand in the middle of the living area of the penthouse and spin in a slow circle. “I know I said that this wasn’t very us, but who wouldn’t enjoy this? I mean, what the hell? Who would have thought I’d ever in my whole life get to do something like this?” I fling open the curtains and gasp at the skyline and spectacular view of the fountains below us.

We wander through the rooms, exclaiming at everything we see, from the massive marbled bathroom with the walk-in shower, to the dining area, to the master bedroom with the king-sized bed and more windows that look out onto the fountain. “It’s something, isn’t it?” Dominic flops down on the bed and I follow suit. “It is. It really, really is.” I roll over and prop myself up on my elbow, staring down at him. “So, when do we get married?” Dominic presses up onto his elbows and stares at me. “First things first. Why aren’t you naked yet?” Finally. Biting my lip, I stand up and pull my shirt over my head and let it drop to the floor. “Continue,” says Dominic, gesturing towards my shorts, his eyes dark and hooded with lust. Slowly, so painstakingly slow I don’t even know if I have enough patience for it right now, I undo the button and slide down the zipper. I hook my fingers in the waistband and pull down, exposing my white lace panties. He made me wait in the limo, he can damn well suffer through a taste of his own medicine. Wriggling my hips from side to side, I slide my shorts off and let them fall. Step out of them and kick them aside. “Holy fuck. Are you really mine?” Dominic asks. “All yours.” “Spin for me. Let me see you.” I do as he says, turning in a slow circle, lifting my hair up over my head and letting it cascade back down into place. “So, are you going to show me just how yours I am? Claim me, Dominic. Tell me what to do.” His eyes go hard. He loves ordering me around. Well, who am I kidding? I love it just as much as he does. “You still haven’t done the first thing I told you to do.” I scrunch up my brow, honestly confused. “I don’t think you told me to do anything, yet.” “The order was implied, Dakota. But it was there.” The tone in his voice is so demanding, so in control, so fucking hot I can’t believe I haven’t dissolved right here and now. I’m so turned on, he could just touch me and I’ll come. I know he wants me to take my bra and panties off, but I still feel like being a bad girl. I bite my lip and make my best pouty face. “I don’t know what you mean.” A slow smile works its way across Dominic’s face and he stands. A tiger stalking its prey. Smooth. Predatory. Focused. “You know very well what I mean.” He stands so close to me I have to look almost straight up to meet his eyes. His fingers graze my shoulders, his touch so light I shiver, and then he pulls up on my bra strap, letting it slap back into place. “Why aren’t you naked yet? In other words, get fucking naked.” I quiver. Holy shit the way he looks at me. The way he talks to me. It’s absolutely

the best thing ever. To think we’ll get to spend all of our nights like this, exploring new places, me following his orders, him bringing me ecstasy like I’ve never known before. It makes me smile. He steps back. “Is this funny to you?” His tone is scathing. “No,” I say, smiling even bigger than before. “I’m just happy.” And for one split second, gone is the dominant man who likes to order me around and it’s just Dominic, smiling as big as I am. “Me too.” He picks me up and lays me down on the bed, ever so gentle. Helps me sit up while he unhooks my bra and tosses it aside and then slides my panties down over my hips. “Let me show you how much.” He kneels at the foot of the bed, grasps my ankles, and pulls me towards him, positioning one of my legs over his shoulder. My hair streams out behind me and I shriek in surprise at the sudden, aggressive movement. And then he lowers his mouth to me and I sigh, melting into the bed. He works slowly, licking and kissing and sucking, while I moan and pant, arching my back. Writhing at his touch. I missed this. I missed him. No one has ever touched me like he does. No one has ever known just how and where and why to put their hands on me. Just another way to prove that I am made for him and he is made for me. I love him so much it hurts. I’m filled with this feeling that is just so important, I’m compelled to find a way to express it and yet, there’s no way to express it that doesn’t fall short somehow. All the words I find seem flat in comparison to how I really feel. All the gestures seem lacking. I wish I could show him, show the world, what it means to me. Put this love I have for this man on display for everyone to see. He slides his fingers inside me and that’s it. I can’t take any more. The emotions swirling in my heart. The drink. The excitement. The knowledge that he came back for me. That he couldn’t face a life without me any more than I could face a life without him. The amazing things he’s doing to me with his mouth and fingers. They all combine into this burst of emotions and my muscles clench and my toes point and little starbursts of light dance in front of my eyes as they roll back in my head. I scream in ecstasy. There’s no way I could hold it in. As the orgasm subsides and I catch my breath, I realize that I’m nowhere near sated. That as good as that felt, I haven’t gotten what I need yet. “I want you inside me,” I say, my voice low. “I just was inside you.” Dominic wipes a hand across his mouth. “You know what I mean.” I had intended to get down on my knees in front of him and repay him for what he just did, but I can’t. I’m too greedy. I want him on top of me, part of me. I need the connection of the two of us moving together. I push up on my elbows and then scramble to my knees. I tug his shirt over his head and then, after he stands, go to work undoing his pants. Wouldn’t you know, my hands are shaking and I just fumble with the buttons. “Let me,” he says and I do. I let my eyes devour him as he steps out of his pants and boxer briefs. Those

long, strong arms. The swirling tattoos. The broad chest and chiseled abs. That gorgeous V at his hips that leads my eyes right down to his truly magnificent and utterly magic penis. It’s a beautiful thing, capable of giving me so much pleasure. “I’m on the pill.” I remind him, needing there to be nothing between us tonight. He’s going to be my husband for fuck’s sake. And I will be Mrs. Dominic Kane. There’s no need for a damn condom. I wait for him to hesitate, but he doesn’t. Just smiles down at me as he climbs over top of me. He presses his crown against me, his eyes holding mine captive. He slides just the tip into me and freezes as we both gasp in unison. “You feel so good,” he says at the same time I say: “Don’t stop.” He pushes forward, sliding all the way in and we moan. Our voices mingling and joining, a chorus of pleasure. He freezes again and I clench around him, only to cry out as he rolls his hips, pushing himself further into me. I’ll take all he has to give. The pleasure that dances on the edge of pain. When he starts moving, he builds speed quickly, slamming into me again and again. He leans down, his hands on either side of my head. “I love you, Dakota,” he says. “I love you so fucking much.” “Dominic,” I moan, unable to come close to being coherent. “You are mine.” Dominic bites my shoulder and that’s it. I come, another series of starbursts exploding behind my closed eyes. It’s only a few seconds before he comes too, and I can feel it inside me, warm. So intimate. He stills and lets his head drop, his forehead pressed to mine. “Mine,” he whispers. “Forever,” I reply, my voice hushed, hoping he can hear how much I mean it.

4

WE LAY LIKE THAT FOR SOME TIME, CURLED UP TOGETHER ON THE MASSIVE BED IN THE MASSIVE MASTER suite. It’s hard to believe that some people just live like this all the time. Huge rooms and luxurious surroundings. I certainly never thought I’d get to be one of those people. Dominic has already brought so many wonderful experiences into my life, never mind the fact that he’s pretty much the most wonderful experience of them all. “I have an idea,” he says after a while. “Oh, yeah? Hit me with it.” “Let’s do the Elvis thing. I mean, how hilarious is that? Could you just imagine the response to those wedding pics?” I run my hand up onto his chest, savoring the feel of his chest hair threading through my fingers. The strong muscles under his soft skin. “Yeah, but what about the Bellagio stuff? We’d have to give up the room.” And, now that I think about it, all the pampering does sound kind of nice. I mean, I’ve never worked with a stylist before. And isn’t my life with Dominic all about living life to the fullest? “We’ll do both.” Dominic runs his fingers through my hair. “You know, elope.” I can’t help but laugh. “Elope while eloping. Sounds just crazy enough to work.” “We’ll have two weddings.” He’s getting excited now. I can hear it in his voice. “We’ll do the big fancy stuff tomorrow. That’ll be the one we share on Instagram, YouTube, and the blog. And truthfully, the blog is in serious need of content and a big, fat, Bellagio wedding will be a great second article. We’ve got the Grand Canyon article up there and that’s all. You’re going to need to start getting that nose to the grindstone and getting content up if that things going to take off. I can only carry you so far, you know.” I push up on my elbow and give his shoulder a shove. “Just wait, Kane. Before you know it, I’ll be the one carrying you.” “I hope so, babe. I really do.” The look in his eyes melts me. “Two weddings, huh?” I’m really starting to love the idea. “Yep. One for everyone else, and one just for us. All the pics for the Elvis wedding? Those will be the ones that matter to us.”

“They’ll both matter. Because, if you think about it, they represent different aspects of our life together. The Bellagio wedding signifies how we make our living and the Elvis wedding signifies who we really are. The more I think about it, the better it gets.” Dominic pulls me into his arms, my head pressed to his chest. I can hear the rush of his breath in his lungs and the pounding of his heart and am awash in gratitude for those simple sounds. The sounds that mean he is alive and well and so totally mine it obliterates all other things. I yawn into his chest, not even bothering to stifle it. It’s been one hell of a day. “Are you ready for bed?” he asks. “What time is it?” I sit up and check the clock on the bedside table. “Eleven,” I murmur. “Which means my internal clock thinks it’s two in the morning. No wonder I have the yawns.” “Let’s get you into bed, then. We have a big day and an early morning. And, you know, our first wedding.” Dominic makes a move to pull me up off the bed, surely with the thought of brushing teeth, finding pajamas, and curling up together to fall asleep. “How long are we going to be in Las Vegas?” I ask as he gets me into a standing position, raking his eyes down my body and smiling appreciatively. “Just for the weekend.” He drags his fingers down my arms, eyes lingering on my breasts and hips. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you are?” “A couple times.” I place both my palms on his chest and look up at him. “But that doesn’t mean I’m tired of hearing it.” “Good. Because I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of saying it.” I step back. “You know what? I don’t care if we don’t sleep all weekend. If we only have two more days here, I want to experience all the things Vegas has to offer. With you. That’s the important thing. Experience it all with you.” “That’s my girl.” He drops a kiss onto my forehead. “Let’s get dressed.” We wander through the suite stark naked. It’s the first time I’ve ever been comfortable enough to walk around anywhere without my clothes on, but Dominic seems more than okay with it. And with a body like that, who wouldn’t be? He’s so gorgeous, I can’t believe he’s mine. We grab our bags and wheel them into the master bedroom. “Who packed for me?” I ask, suddenly aware that I have no idea what kind of surprises are in store for me outfit wise. “Your sisters.” He pauses. “Hey, you want a shower? We could save water by taking one together.” “I think if we get in there together, we will most certainly not be saving water.” I bite my lip as a surge of lust dances through my body. Yes, I very much want to take a shower with him. “Fine by me,” he says and takes my arm, leading me into the bathroom.

ABOUT HALF AN HOUR LATER, we turn off the water and step out into the foggy room. My legs are weak and my makeup is a mess, but I did manage to get down on my knees and drive him crazy before he gave me my third and fourth orgasm of the evening. I mean seriously. How did I ever live without Dominic in my life making me feel this good? Wrapped in towels, we pull clothes out of our bags. Dominic gets dressed while I survey my options which are a little schizophrenic, to say the least. “You said my sisters packed for me?” I ask. “Yep. And neither one seemed too confident with the other’s choices.” I hold up a slinky black dress—a little on the slutty side—and a pair of my most expensive heels, also black with a flash of red on the underside. “Maya picked the dress and Chelsea picked the shoes. I can guarantee it.” “Whoever picked it, I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off you once you’re in it.” I also find some new lingerie, gifts from my sisters. It’s clearly expensive and not at all practical. A white corset with sheer black lace and ribbons zig-zagging up the sides barely holding the thing together. Trying to hide it in my hands so Dominic won’t find it until later, I head off into the bathroom to get ready. I blow out my hair and leave it long and full. Swipe on some eyeliner and mascara, a little light shadow, trying to keep my makeup tasteful to offset the message my dress is sending. When I step out of the bathroom, Dominic and I are equally wowed by the sight of each other. He’s wearing a crisp button down tucked into a pair of black pants that hug his ass so well I won’t be able to keep my hands off it. The cuffs of his shirt are rolled up to just below his elbows, showing off those delicious tattoos of his, and the top few buttons are undone. He looks damn good. Dominic growls and pulls me into his arms. “I’m going to have to fend off all the entire male population of Las Vegas. Hell, probably half the female population, too.” “You look pretty delectable yourself, Kane.” I stifle another yawn. It’s verging on midnight here and three a.m. in my body, but there is no way I’m going to sleep when there is living to be done. “You wanna grab a Rockstar or a Monster or something before we leave? I could seriously use the caffeine.” “That sounds like a fabulous idea. But first … pictures.” He picks his camera off the bed and snaps a few shots. Some for Instagram and the blog and others that are a little too suggestive to share with the interwebz. Finally, he pulls out his phone, wraps his arm around me and takes a picture of him kissing me on the cheek. That one, he uploads instantly to Instagram, tagging me and adding a variety of hashtags. His phone lights up with notifications as he slides it into his back pocket. “Do you know where we’re going?” I ask as I grab my purse and we head towards the door. “Yep. After we find ourselves some energy drinks, I thought we’d head to The Bank. It’s a nightclub here at the Bellagio. There’s always a massive line, especially

this late, but I thought we’d stop by the Chairman’s Lounge and flash our sexy smiles and VIP-ness around and get ourselves in without having to wait. We head down and wander the shops in search of caffeine before talking to the people in the lounge about getting us into The Bank. They hesitate for only a second until Dominic reminds them who he is, why we’re here, and then promises to take lots of pictures and include it on the blog. Suddenly, everyone is more than accommodating and we are ushered to The Bank, past all the people who are dressed to the nines and waiting in a line that snakes its way down from the entrance. A whisper in the ear of the bouncer, a gesture towards where Dominic and I stand—him looking hot and me doing my best to look like I belong beside him. The bouncer smiles and gestures for us to enter while the man who guided us here dips his head in a little bow and walks away. We enter while the people in line jostle to get a better look at us, each of them wondering who we are and why we warrant special treatment. For as much as I’m not about material things, I’m telling you what. A girl could get used to this.

5

NOTHING COULD HAVE PREPARED ME FOR THE CHAOS THAT IS THE BANK. IT’S EXHILARATING. LIGHTS careen around the place. The music throbs, and let me be the first to tell you, the DJ’s are absolutely killing it. And the people, so many people, dancing and laughing and shouting to be heard over the cacophony of exaltation. “You good?” Dominic asks, leaning in close so I can hear him as he leads us through the crowd and straight to the bar. “Hell yes. I’m more than good. This is exactly the kind of stuff that I’ve been missing in my life.” This man has brought me everything I’ve ever needed and then some. Dominic takes a moment to snap the first round of pictures he promised the guy who got us in here and then orders us some drinks. Shots of whiskey, big surprise. Well, the whiskey isn’t a surprise, but the delivery system sure as shit is. “Shots?” I ask. “Of course. I mean, do you want to sit on your butt sipping a drink all night or do you want to get out on the dance floor and have some fun?” “Touché, Kane. It’s that kind of thinking that proves how perfect you are for me.” I hold up my shot glass and wait for Dominic to tap his against mine— carefully, of course. Don’t want to spill any—before we throw them back. “Damn, that’s good,” he says and orders us another round. The excitement, the Monster energy drink I downed before we got here, the alcohol—they’re doing a number on me and if I don’t slow down, I’m going to be so hungover on my first wedding day that my stylist is going to have to work a small miracle to make me look anything but zonked. That sounds so funny. My first wedding day. But Dominic is definitely the kind of guy who’s worth marrying twice in one weekend. And the more I think about it, the more I love the idea of having one fancy-pants wedding and one just for us wedding. All the better to celebrate our love, you know? It’s also totally ridiculous that I’m saying things like my stylist. This has to be a dream, right? Any minute now I’m going to wake up and find myself in bed in my shoebox of an apartment in Townsbury, still missing Dominic. Heart still broken. Or actually, double broken after having a dream like this.

“What are you thinking,” Dominic asks, signaling the bartender for yet another round. “I was wondering if I should pinch myself. I mean, is this a dream?” “It’s a dream come true.” We down our third shot of the evening and wow. What happened to all that talk about slowing down? “You know what we should do?” Dominic asks. “Dance?” I bounce in my seat a little giddy. “Well, yes. That too. But I was thinking we should get matching tattoos.” He grabs my wrist and runs his thumbs across the three little birds I have tattooed there. When I got it, I didn’t think it had any real meaning other than the fact that I love birds. But after a discussion with Dominic in Arizona, I came to the realization that I love birds because I envy their ability to take flight. To just zoom up and away from where they were and land themselves in someplace else entirely. Which, oddly enough, is exactly what we did today. “Really?” I ask, intrigued. “What do you have in mind?” “Well, a lot of people get something on their ring fingers. Something that’ll hide under the wedding band.” “I’ve seen that.” I bounce my head and purse my lips, not really sold on that particular idea, but totally excited about the idea in general. “But, I don’t like being like most people,” Dominic says, leaning in close to take my hands. “Me neither.” “What about if we each got a lovebird on our shoulder? That way, when we stand side by side, it’ll look like they’re kissing. I know how much you love birds.” “I don’t think I could love this idea any harder. And I don’t think I could love you any harder for thinking of it.” I slide off my stool and stagger a little in my heels. Woops! Maybe I shouldn’t have had that last shot. I’m feeling a little like Bambi on ice. “Wanna go right now?” “I don’t think they’ll do it if we’ve been drinking. And you, love, look a little bit on the other side of tipsy.” I giggle. “Oh yeah. That’s right. And I am.” I grab onto his arm, still giggling. “I think I might be drunk, Dominic,” I say with surprise. “Clearly, you’re quite drunk, babe. And double clearly, the best place for you is the dance floor.” I wonder for just a second if he’s being sarcastic, but the glimmer in his eyes proves to me that he means what he saying. “Yes! Let’s dance!” I pull him off his chair and lead him down to the dance floor, zigging and zagging through the crowds of people. We lose ourselves to the music and movement for a while, enjoying each other’s bodies. Enjoying the closeness. The sensuality. I sway my hips and lift my arms over head, close my eyes, and just let the beat move through me. Dominic’s got his hands on my waist, my hips, and damn if it doesn’t feel good. Tired or not, I am so glad we decided not to go to bed. He pulls me close and my eyes bounce open. “Holy shit,” he whispers. “Look

behind you. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” He turns us so I can see what’s behind me. I press my body to his and get distracted for just a moment by how good it feels before I peek out around him, too small to see over his shoulder. I search the crowd, trying to find whatever it is that has him so shocked, and then I see it. There’s a couple in the middle of the dance floor. She’s got both her legs around his waist. His hands are on her hips. Her skirt pulled up to reveal her underwear pushed to the side, most of her ass uncovered. He’s bouncing her up and down, thrusting himself into her. Her head is thrown back, eyes clenched in ecstasy. His face is tight, staring at her tits as they spring free of her dress. The lights bouncing around the club dapple their skin. It’s a little bit beautiful and a lot surprising. I freeze. Jaw dropped. “You see them?” he asks. “I think everyone does.” People are noticing, wearing shocked expressions and moving away from the couple until they’re fully exposed, a circle of empty space appearing around them. The guy slaps the girl’s ass and she looks down at him, gritting her teeth, totally unaware of the fact that while they might have once been hidden they aren’t anymore. “Wow,” I say and suddenly realize that I’m hot. Like dripping sweat, uncomfortable, and maybe just a little nauseated. “Dominic?” “Yeah, babe?” He looks down at me and worry creases his brow. “I don’t feel so good.” “You don’t look so good.” He takes me by the shoulders and leads me through the crowd of people. “Let’s get you some water.” “I think I just need air. Can we get outside?” “Sure, babe. Outside it is.” He leads me out of the club and past all the light and sound in the hotel that makes my head swirl even harder. We push through the front doors and the blast of air on my face feels fucking magnificent. I lift my hair off the back of my neck and Dominic walks me over to a spot with a fantastic view of the Bellagio Fountain. “How you doing?” he asks. “Okay?” I nod. “Oh yeah. Without a doubt. I think I just got a little overheated.” “You sure? You’re not going to throw up or pass out on me are you?” “I’m not that drunk,” I say confidently even though I’m not at all sure it’s true. I look out at the view in front of me. The fountain. The city. Hell, the fucking Eiffel Tower is just across the street. “Just got a little overwhelmed is all. I mean, it’s kind of a big day. And then, you know, to see them just going at it like that…” I giggle. Dominic laughs. “I know! Can you believe it?” “I guess they have good reason to call Vegas Sin City.” “That they do.” I run my fingers across his. “It was kind of beautiful, though. To be so overwhelmed with need for someone that they just lose control of themselves right then and there. Get lost in each other despite the fact that they were surrounded by

people.” I smile a little. I understand that kind of love. That kind of need. I feel that way about Dominic. “Or,” he says and twines his fingers with mine. “They were on some kind of drug and had no idea what the fuck they were doing. Or they were sex addicts. Or exhibitionists…” I slap his arm with my free hand. “Hey! Don’t ruin my great story with all that reality. It’s so much better when they’re just crazy in love with each other and don’t care what people think.” We fall into a comfortable silence, staring out at the water jets dancing to Time to Say Goodbye, one of the most beautiful songs of all time. Chills wander down my spine as Dominic takes my hand, pulls me close, and wraps his arm around my shoulder. It may be the most romantic moment of my entire life. Just him and me, here, surrounded by lights and energy, wrapped in our own quiet bubble of serenity. After a moment, I realize he’s staring down at me, craning his neck to see my face. “I’ll never get tired of looking at you,” he says. “I hope not. You’ve got many years of it ahead of you.” There’s something deep and powerful in his eyes and another round of chills break out across my skin. Dominic brushes a stray hair off my face. “When I first saw you, I could tell there was so much more to you hiding under the surface. Hiding under that huge smile you use when you’re uncomfortable. You were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. This tiny little spit-fire. Funsized with a larger than life personality. But there was more. I knew it. Parts of you that, for whatever reason, you held back from everyone. I knew then that I wasn’t going to be happy until I got to see all the things you kept hidden. And the more of you I see, the more I want.” He runs his thumb across my cheekbone. “I’m so happy to have the rest of my life to uncover it all. I want to explore the Earth with you. Walk through the biggest cities, climb through ancient ruins, hold hands and stare out over the vastness of the Serengeti. I thought my life was amazing before you. Turns out, I had no fucking clue what amazing really is.” Tears burn my eyes. I open and close my mouth several times, searching for the best way to tell him how deeply he’s touched me. How much I can’t believe that all my dreams are coming true. That he is everything to me. “I love you,” I say and know that those words fall woefully short. He kisses me. This deep connection of souls and bodies that takes me away from here and sends me flying high above it all. My heart surges and my blood boils and I never, ever want to be anywhere else but in his arms. When we finish the kiss, I press into his chest and watch the fountain, stifling yet another yawn. “What time do we have to get up tomorrow?” I ask. “We have nine o’clock appointments with the masseuse.” “That sounds lovely and awful all wrapped up in one hell of an early morning.” “Can’t argue with you there.” “What time is it now?” “I don’t know. Three? Four?”

“Damn. No wonder I’m tired.” I run a hand up into my hair and give it a little shake. “How about we get upstairs and get my tired girl to sleep?” Dominic places his hand on the small of my back, fingers spread wide and I love how aggressive and controlling it feels. “Well,” I say, looking up at him. “We’ll go to bed. I just can’t promise there’ll be much sleeping.”

6

ODDLY ENOUGH, I WAKE UP WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE. SURE, IT’S EIGHT A.M. SURE, I ONLY GOT FOUR hours of sleep. Sure, I may or may not still be feeling a little drunk. But Dominic is stretched out next to me, his face so calm and so beautiful I could stare at it forever. The swell of his cheek. The curve of his dark lashes. The shadow of his beard highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw. He moans when I snuggle into him. “What time is it?” “Time to get up,” I say. He’s still so warm from being asleep. I could just cuddle right up next to him and close my eyes and drift off. “Can’t be,” he murmurs, wrapping his arm around me. “The alarm didn’t go off.” “Yeah it did, silly. That’s why I’m awake.” He sighs and rubs his free hand through his hair. I prop myself up on my elbow and smile down at how absolutely adorable he looks, all bleary-eyed and crazyhaired. “I can’t believe we’re going to wake up like this for the rest of our lives.” “Tired and possibly still drunk?” “No. Curled up next to each other. Wrapped up together.” I pause and look for more words. “Happy.” It’s all inadequate. There’s no way to describe the bliss, the sense of completion. The … rightness of it all. Dominic smiles. “I know, babe. It’s pretty wonderful.” We order room service and eat breakfast at the table in our suite next to windows overlooking the fountain. The sky is blue and the sun is bright and the skyline is awe-inspiring. “I’ve never had room service before,” I say as I pick at my pancakes. “Never?” Dominic looks truly shocked. I crinkle up my face and flare my fingers. “Seeing as how I lived my whole life in Townsbury…” I trail off, pretty sure he’s smart enough to get the implication. “Wow.” He chews on a bite of bacon, looking thoughtful. “I mean, I knew that. I just never took the time to think about what that really meant.” A slow smile spreads across his face. “I can’t wait to share this world with you. I have a lifetime of new experiences for you.”

I HATE TO ADMIT IT, but the pampering is really, really nice. Dominic and I have a couple’s massage at nine and while I was afraid that it would be kind of awkward, it’s actually incredibly intimate. We’re stretched out on massage tables that are close enough for us to hold hands. We don’t really talk. But we do twine our fingers together from time to time. Turn our heads and stare into each other’s eyes while our masseuses work magic on our tired muscles. Of course, the photographer flitting about the room amps the awkward factor up. I’m barely comfortable with Dominic taking my picture. But being naked, covered with only a thin blanket while a stranger zooms in for a close up while I smile into my future husband’s eyes? That might take a little longer for me to get used to. After our massages, we’re zipped off to a meeting with our stylists. Would you believe I have a whole damn team of people who are going to make me fabulous today? A tall blonde with the longest, shapeliest, tannest legs I’ve ever seen introduces herself. “Hello,” she says in a willowy voice, extending an elegant hand my way. “I’m Sasha, your hairdresser.” “Hey.” I take her hand and try not to worry about my poor stubby fingers looking extra stubby in comparison to hers. Sasha introduces me to Cleo, an adorable woman with short black hair with electric blue tips and exquisite bone structure who will be in charge of my makeup. “’Sup,” she says, shoving one hand in her pocket and wiggling the fingers on her other. There’s Tina, my manicurist, and Trisha, my pedicurist. They’re twins and the only way I’ll be able to tell them apart is by paying attention to which appendage they’re working on. And finally, there’s Anne, an angular older woman who looks down the bridge of her nose at me as if she has taken my measure and found me wholly dissatisfying. Her gaze rakes over my body while she purses her lips. I would take offense, but considering that all the wrinkles around her mouth are coming together and all I can think is that it looks like she has an asshole on her face, I brush it off and consider us even. “We don’t typically provide the dress or the shoes, but considering your … special circumstances we agreed to make sure you’re well provided for. Do you have a designer? Prada? Louis Vuitton? Gucci?” She arches an eyebrow and waits for me to admit that I don’t know anything the designers. I shake my head. “Gee,” I say, widening my eyes and pursing my lips like those girls who take a million selfies on Instagram. “I just love them all, don’t you?” I flip my hair and smile up at her. Give a little shrug and then rake my eyes all over her body, giving her a look like she’s not quite my meeting expectations. “True,” purrs Anne. “But if you could give me some direction…” She thinks she’s going to get me to admit that I’ve never worn a designer anything before but

let me tell you, she’s got another thing coming for her. I sigh and sit back on my heel. “I guess I understand that you’d be uncomfortable picking something current. I mean. Given your age and everything.” I look up, like I’m considering the three designers she mentioned. Anne’s eyes narrow and her lips go taut. “I assure you, Ms. London. I’m more than capable of finding something current.” I stare her down and watch her start to wonder if she misjudged me. I wait a few seconds before responding. “Why don’t you bring me a selection then? Pick a few you think will flatter me and we’ll see.” I’m not typically a bitch, but I refuse to be looked down on by anyone. I may be small, but I am mighty. It’s best if everyone knows that up front. “Certainly, Ms. London.” Her tone has gone from scathing to accommodating and she whirls on her spikey heels, disappearing in a cloud of cloying perfume. My team is staring at me with varying degrees of incredulity and fear. I flare my hands. “Sorry,” I say. “I’m really not terrifying, I just hate being pre-judged.” Cleo’s mouth drops. “I have never seen someone put Anne in her place like that.” “Neither have we,” say the twins in unison. I shrug. “I wouldn’t know a Louis Vuitton if I saw one, let alone know if I prefer it over Prada.” A smile blooms across my face. “But I guess I’ll get to find out.” “You sure will.” Sasha takes my hand and gives it a little squeeze. “Now. Come with us and we’ll make you so beautiful, Anne will be falling all over herself to get on your good side.” The next several hours pass in a whirlwind of curling irons, hairspray, nail polish, and makeup brushes. The women flutter around me, talking to me and around me, depending on the topic, while the photographers fade more and more into the background. Who would have thought I’d get used to having my own personal paparazzi so quickly? I pretty much like all the women on my style team. They seem so content. So happy. So comfortable in the knowledge that they’re doing what they love and that they’re good at it. Is this what I get to look forward to? Is this what it’ll be like, writing articles for my travel blog to feature Dominic’s pictures? I really fucking hope so. By the time Anne shows up, wheeling a clothes rack filled with white dresses and shoe boxes, I can’t help but smile at my reflection. I still look like me, which is great. I didn’t want to be styled into oblivion. I just look, I don’t know, amplified. Cleo played up my eyes and they shine bright and happy back at me through the mirror. Sasha has my hair curled, half up with some volume at the crown of my head and long looping curls coming down around my shoulders. The twins managed to make my stubby hands and feet look a little more elegant. (And the fact that they managed to make them look elegant at all is a testament to their skill.) “You look stunning, Ms. London,” purrs Anne and I catch a smirk from Cleo through the mirror. I get the feeling they very much enjoy watching me put the

older woman in her place. “Thank you,” I say graciously and head over to peruse the gowns she brought for me. I don’t have a clue which designer did which gown and if Anne decides to test me, I’m screwed. “These are all beautiful.” I mean it. I have no idea how I’ll choose between them. Anne beams and pulls a gown off the rack. “This is the one I think is best suited to your frame.” The dress is simple yet stunning. Fitted silk that flares into a circular train edged in lace. “Wow,” I say. “You have spectacular taste, Anne.” I’m not sure the woman deserves the compliment, but like I said, I’m really not a bitch and she did a damn fine job of finding the perfect dress. I slip it on and Anne laces up the back. I’ve never needed help getting dressed in anything. Another new experience for me, compliments of the wonderful Dominic Kane. A man who will be my husband before the end of this weekend. They won’t let me look in the mirror until we decide on shoes and I go with a sky-high pair of heels that will help close the height gap between me and Dominic. When they finally let me see myself, I gasp. Part of me was afraid the silk would be unforgiving. That it would cling to all the worst parts of me and that I’d look small and fat and unworthy of something so beautiful. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It’s as if the dress is made for me, designed to hug my body where it needs it most, and fall away from the spots I’d rather no one see. “Don’t you dare cry,” says Cleo. “I used waterproof everything, but I’d rather not take a chance on having to fix anything before the wedding.” “I have no words,” I say. “And that’s saying something because I always have something to say.” The click of the cameras fills the silence while I turn this way and that, grinning at my reflection in the mirror. After I’ve had my fill of staring at myself, they present me with several bouquet options, each one more stunning than the last. My stomach rumbles while I try to choose, reminding me that it’s been many hours since breakfast. Overwhelmed by the opulent floral arrangements, I choose a bouquet of cascading lilies, drawn to the bright colors in the exotic flowers. I’m whisked away and taken to a sitting room where I’m introduced to my bridesmaids. “Since your wedding pictures will be used for publicity purposes, the Bellagio wanted you to have a complete wedding experience. And what’s a wedding without beautiful bridesmaids?” Anne clasps her hands. Her tone has slipped back towards judgmental and condescending but I guess I don’t really care. Maybe that’s just her natural state. She rattles off the names of the women who will be sharing the most important day of my life with me. I don’t think I even catch one because I’m too busy realizing that these women are probably professional models. They’re each at least five foot ten. Impeccably groomed. Thin as rails. I’m going to look like an oompa loompa beside them. Well, an albino oompa loompa, anyway. They compliment my hair and my dress, my makeup and my nails, and I realize they have no clue that I don’t typically look like this. I pull myself up, square my

shoulders, and smile as they chatter on about the magic my style team worked for me. My thoughts are pulled towards Dominic as they prattle away. What has he been doing for the last couple hours? Is he enjoying himself as much as I am? Will he still want to do our Elvis wedding after this one? I really hope he does. As amazing as this day has been, as crazy as it is to look in the mirror and find myself looking scrumptious in my designer clothes with my professionally styled hair and face, I still want something that feels like us. Right now, I’m dressed in someone else’s clothes, smiling at someone else’s friends, looking like someone else entirely. It’s one hell of an experience and will be one hell of a memory, but it feels a little off. Anne retrieves us from the parlor and leads us out to the terrace where the ceremony will be held. The photographer scuttles along beside us, snapping so many pictures that I just plaster a pleasant grin on my face and hope I don’t look as stupid as I feel. The bridesmaids walk one at a time onto the terrace and I strain my neck, trying to see Dominic around them, but damn it, they’re too tall and I’m too short. Finally, it’s my turn and what I find waiting for me takes my breath away. Dominic looks stunning in a tuxedo, his hands clasped in front of him, smiling at me like I’m more beautiful than any of the models who just walked before me. There’s a softness to his dark eyes. They gleam with love and adoration and they’re aimed right at me. Behind him, the fountain begins its show, the jets shooting water into the air the moment I step onto the terrace. The rest is a blur because I only have eyes for Dominic. When the officiator asks for the rings, Dominic shakes his head. “We’re skipping that part for now,” he says. “Gonna do this wedding thing the right way later. We’ll pretend for the cameras though, won’t we babe?” I beam. “You bet your ass we will.” The man, bless his heart, doesn’t skip a beat. He just smiles and lets us pantomime the exchanging of the rings. I’m sure, given that we’re in Vegas and all, he’s had to keep his cool under much weirder circumstances than this. “Don’t present us as man and wife either,” whispers Dominic and the officiator stumbles, if only for a moment. “You may now kiss the bride,” he finally says and Dominic swoops me up and kisses me deeply. “I’ve been waiting to touch you all day,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine as the photographers click away. We take about a million posed shots, Dominic helping to situate me like he does every time there’s a camera involved. Finally, they decide that they’ve gotten every possible shot the could possibly think of and we’re taken back to our dressing rooms to change. I hang my dress back up on the rack and put the shoes back in the box and wonder what I’m supposed to do with my bouquet. It looks like now that the show’s over, I’m on my own. My style team is gone and Anne is nowhere to be found. I get dressed in my own clothes, not sure if I should try to do something with my hair.

It’s a little much for just walking around, but hell, it’s got so much hairspray in it, it’s not going anywhere. Turns out that Anne has been keeping Dominic company. I find them in the Chairman’s Lounge after I gather my things and leave the dressing room, her looking at him with that pursed-lip look she really should avoid using. “What do you mean, you’re not actually getting married?” she asks, her voice as pointed as her heels and loud enough for me to hear from all the way across the room. “We’re getting married. Just not today.” he says. “But as far as anyone knows, we just got married this very minute. We’re still holding up our end of the bargain.” Anne lets a long breath out through her nose and puts her hands on her hips. “It seems to me that you just got a very expensive experience under false pretenses. I’m not sure how this will go over with management.” Dominic looks exasperated as I arrive in front of them. “What’s wrong?” I ask and earn myself the most disgusted look from this wasp of a woman with her asshole-looking mouth. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t be dead because I could care less what Anne from the Bellagio thinks about me. “You know exactly what’s wrong,” she says with a yet another scathing look my way. “Actually, I don’t. You organized a beautiful wedding for us,” I say with a smile. “I have never felt more special and more pampered in all of my life. I’m sure that the hundreds of thousands of people who follow Dominic through all his social media will agree once they see the pictures. And the dress you found me, it was so perfect. I’ll be sure to personally thank you in the article I write about this whole experience. I couldn’t have asked for more.” Anne studies us through narrowed eyes. Takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “You’ll have your proofs from the photographers by the end of the week. If I don’t see that article on your blog or if I see one mention of the fact that you didn’t actually get married anywhere on your social media. Anywhere,” she says, pursing her lips and stabbing the air with her finger. “I will alert the manager and you can expect a rather large bill for this entire experience.” Without waiting for a response, she pivots and stomps away. As soon as she’s out of earshot, Dominic looks at me with a gleam in his eye. “Is it just me or does her mouth look like a butt?”

7

WE’RE BOTH STARVING, SO WE GRAB SOME LUNCH AT ONE OF THE RESTAURANTS IN THE RESORT. THE MEAL is good, I think. I wolf it down too quickly to really be sure. “You’re still good with the Elvis wedding, right?” Dominic asks as we sip the coffees we ordered when we finished eating. “I mean, it’s a little late to be asking now, I guess.” “Of course!” I pick at the bits of leftovers on my plate with my fork. “I was afraid you changed your mind and didn’t want to do it that way. We never really got a chance to talk about it before we got whisked away from each other.” “You looked so beautiful in that dress. I have to admit that I was tempted to go through with it right then and there. I had the rings in my pocket.” I widen my eyes, surprised. “Really?” “Yep. I will never forget the way you looked in that dress. You put those spindly giants who came out with you to shame.” Dominic runs a finger along the outside of his coffee cup. “What stopped you?” “Honestly? The spindly giants who came out with you.” He wraps his long hands around the mug and takes a drink. “What? Why?” I’m laughing because that just seems to be what I do now. I’m so happy I’ve become a frequent giggler. “Who were they? Why were they there? Wasn’t it really weird to have a bunch of strangers at our wedding?” I slap the table and the people behind Dominic jump. “Yes!” I say and then wave an apology to the couple I just scared to death. “At first I loved all the pampering. I didn’t think I would, but I really did. But then, it was just … not us, you know?” Dominic nods knowingly. “Exactly.” “Plus, doesn’t it just sound totally epic to have two weddings? What a great story we’ll have, you know?” “Yes. We really are cut from the same cloth. I love it.” We chat for a while and Dominic takes a slew of pictures. Some of me, some of us, and some of him, making sure to get different elements of the restaurant in the background and then uploads them all to Instagram, tagging the Bellagio in all of

them. The caption? Me and the wifey. It’s silly. And not true yet. But I grin like an idiot anyway. “You wanna get our tattoos?” he asks during a lull in the conversation. “Now?” “Yep, I researched some good tattoo artists while I was waiting for your stylists to finish beautifying you.” Dominic throws a few fives on the table for the waitress and stands, leading me out of the restaurant with that open palm on my lower back. “I didn’t think you were serious about that,” I say. “Of course I’m serious. Why would you doubt that?” “Well, I’m thrilled about the idea of getting another bird tattoo. But for you? It doesn’t exactly match your current tatts, and, it might not be the manliest thing out there.” Dominic stops and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Dakota. Babe. I’ve wanted a bird tattoo ever since I found out what they mean to you. And now that we’ll have matching ones and we’re going to get them the weekend we pledge our lives to each other? How could I not want it?” Without another thought about it, we hail a cab and head out into the city. It’s a long ride to the tattoo parlor, which is fine by me because it gives me time to really study my surroundings. I want to commit the whole thing to memory. Don’t want to forget a single thing about this weekend. Not one single thing. The tattoos take a couple hours and when they’re done, they look absolutely perfect if I do say so myself. “They don’t exactly look like they’re kissing,” I say as we admire them in the mirror. “You’re so tall and I’m so not.” Dominic leans over, dropping his shoulder down to bump lightly against mine. “There,” he says. “Mine just kissed yours on the top of her head.” We leave, ridiculously proud of ourselves. The sun dips low over the city as we make our way back to the hotel. The new tattoo on my shoulder burns and my heart is full and I should probably be exhausted but I’m just not. I love this man beside me and right now, I feel like I could survive on him and nothing else. “Did you say they gave us some chips to use at the casino?” I ask as we pull up in front of the hotel. “Yeah, why? You feel like wasting some imaginary money?” We hop out of the cab and Dominic pays the driver before taking my hand in his—making sure our love birds are facing each other, of course—and leads me inside. “I think I do. Especially because it’s not really our money.” We decide to head up to the room to change and the moment the door to the penthouse closes behind us, Dominic grabs me and pulls me to him. His mouth covers mine while he takes my shirt in his hands and carefully pulls it up over my shoulder. He breaks our kiss long enough to lift my shirt over my head and unclasp my bra and then his mouth is back on mine. I part my lips and our tongues meet. I bring my hand to the bulge in his pants while he lowers his mouth to my breasts,

taking first one, then the other nipple between his teeth. And then, just when I’m ready to start undoing his pants and getting my hand on his dick, he steps back. “I’m thinking we should dress up for our trip to the casino. Did your sisters pack you another dress?” I step back into him, my hands going back to the button on his pants. “I don’t care what they packed me right now.” Dominic turns away from me and heads into the bedroom, tossing me a look over his shoulder that says he knows just how hot and bothered I am and that’s more than fine with him. “Well, that’s just silly. I’d think you’d want to look good on the night before our second wedding.” “I’m sure I will, after you fulfill the promise you just made me.” I follow him into the bedroom. Surely he’s teasing. Surely, he’ll throw me on the bed and put out the flames he fanned in me. “What promise?” he asks as he makes a really big deal about pretending to pick out his outfit for the evening. “The promise of multiple screaming orgasms.” He shakes his head. “I don’t remember saying anything about screaming orgasms. And I’m pretty sure I’d remember something like that.” I get really close to him, press my breasts against him and run my hand over the hard—very hard—bulge in his pants. “You just wanted me all hot and bothered, didn’t you?” “Sometimes anticipation makes everything better.” His cups my cheek and I lean into his hand, desperate for his touch. “Now, get dressed so we can go waste a lot of someone else’s money.” I sigh and do just that, choosing a strapless dress that won’t rub on the new tattoo on my shoulder and send a mental thank you to whichever sister had the good idea of sending it. I touch up my hair and makeup and before I know it, we’re down in the casino, drinks in hand, wasting money on the slot machines and black jack. We lose more than we win, but since it’s not really our money we’re not all that concerned about it. We just laugh and flirt and he keeps touching me in ways that makes sure my panties stay wet. After a few hours, I’ve had all I can take. “You ready to go back up to the room?” I ask, running my hand up his arm. “Are you?” He smiles down at me and the look on his face says he knows just how ready I am. I nod. “Mmm-hmm.” “We’ve still got about two grand in chips left. What should we do about that?” Wow. I guess we won more than we lost. I wasn’t prepared for that much. I point at the Roulette table. “Bet it all.” His eyebrows spring into his hairline. “All of it?” “Why not? Maybe we’ll get lucky.” I meant it as innuendo. I meant him to smirk and make some silly joke about getting lucky upstairs in our room. I was not prepared for him to saunter up to the damn table and bet it all on a single number.

Black twenty-five. I should have known better. After all, this is Dominic Kane, the man who travels the world with little more than a backpack and a destination. My breath catches in my throat as I watch the wheel spin. The ball clicks its way over the numbers while my heart thunders in my chest. The wheel slows. I watch the ball speed past our number several times. The wheel slows some more. And holy shit, the ball settles right into fucking number twenty-five. I scream and jump up and down, thrilled to have won, even though I don’t really know what it means. I’m clutching at Dominic’s arm while the people around us lose their ever living minds and he just stares at me with a blank face. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Just trying to do the math.” His eyes are a million miles away and I swear I can feel his pulse through the fabric of his shirt. “The odds are thirty-five to one.” He wets his lips and shakes his head. “I think we just won close to seventy thousand dollars.” My breath leaves my lungs in rush and I don’t think I’m going to be able to get enough oxygen. “You’re fucking kidding me?” The next few hours are perhaps the most confusing few hours of my life. We’re ushered to a room where Dominic has to fill out a tax form. They ask him if they’d like his money as a check or in cash. He chooses cash and I’m almost disappointed to see how small the stack is when they bring it to us. Not that it’s tiny, it just isn’t the briefcase-sized pile of money I expected. The fact that it all fits in my slightly over-sized purse is kind of doing a number on my head right now Before I know it, we’re being comped a dinner at the fanciest restaurant in the resort, complete with a bottle of champagne I just know is probably worth at least three months’ rent back home in Townsbury. Neither one of us can believe what just happened. We eat our exquisite dinner—I couldn’t even tell you how it tasted—alternating between periods of stunned silence and frantic conversation. It’s like an out of body experience. “What do you want to do with it?” I ask for like the hundredth time. “I don’t know,” he answers as he has since we sat down. “I mean,” he continues, to my utter shock. “We could just save it. Use it for a hotel when we end up somewhere without a place to stay. Or we could blow it. I’m sure it wouldn’t take long, in a place like this.” He waves around the restaurant and I assume he means Vegas in general. “Or, we could make a deposit on some land and look into building that shipping container home you were telling me about.” My heart leaps. Ever since I saw an article about people repurposing old shipping containers and turning them into self-sufficient homes, I’ve wanted to build one for myself. Maybe invest in some solar panels, figure out a rain catchment system. Just go off grid and live my funky little life my own way. Dominic was the only person I told that little daydream to who didn’t laugh at me. “That sounds so awesome,” I say and take a sip of the champagne. The bubbles tickle my nose and I smile. “But we’d never really be there, right? I mean, how frequently do you ever stay in one place.”

“It’d be a place to go that’s ours. A home base.” Dominic licks his lips and I’m distracted by the surge of lust in my belly. “It’s a nice thought,” I say. “But I’m sure we can think of better ways to spend the money.” It’s not that I don’t want it. It’s just that I want him to be sure he does, too. That’s a lot of money to spend on something only one of us is interested in. Dominic finishes his champagne and leans back in his chair, draping his arm over the back. “We don’t have to decide right now. We’ve got time to think about it.” “I still can’t believe it,” I say and check that my purse is still hugged close to my body. We debated about whether or not to leave the money up in the room, but neither one of us was ready to be parted from it yet. As nervous as I’ve been having it with me, I’m not sure we made the right decision. Dominic shakes his head. “Me neither.” He leans in, elbows on the table, eyes burning into mine. “Are you ready to go upstairs and celebrate?” He doesn’t need to ask me twice. I’ve been ready all night.

8

WE BARELY MAKE IT ONTO THE ELEVATOR. AS SOON AS THE DOORS CLOSE IN FRONT OF US, WE’RE KISSING. The sharp intake of breath, the rustle of our clothes, these things fill the small space. And thank goodness we’re alone because I don’t know if we could have waited any longer than we did. His hand on my breast. My hand on his ass. Tongues dancing, mouths exploring, and then he has my bottom lip caught between his teeth. I squeeze his ass and press his hips forward; the hard bulge of his cock presses into my stomach. If it weren’t for the slowing of the elevator, I’d be down on my knees in front of him, fiddling with his pants. But we’ll have to wait until we get to our room for that. By the time the elevator dings and the doors slide open, we’re simply standing side by side. Hair and clothes mussed. Chests heaving. Eyes wild and faces flushed. An older couple looks surprised to see us before giving us a set of knowing looks, and then they take our place as we exit the elevator. Dominic keeps his hand on my ass as we walk to our door. The lights are out when we get in the room but the curtains are flung open, revealing a full moon hanging heavy and swollen over the Las Vegas skyline. As beautiful as it is, I barely have time to care because all I can think about is Dominic. I want his clothes off, his body bared to mine. I want my skin on his and I need him to fulfill the promises he made to me earlier today. The one that’s had my panties wet since we went downstairs. I drop my purse on the ground and pull his shirt out of his pants, fumbling with the buttons with my poor trembling hands. I’m desperate to remove any and all barriers between us, desperate to be consumed by him. As soon as I slide the shirt off his shoulders, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me. I am lost. The feel of him. The smell of him. His corded muscles under my hands. The warmth of his skin. The champagne on his breath. It’s all so decadent. Dominic slides the zipper on my dress down and I step out, leaving my shoes on because I know how much he likes to see me in nothing but heels and lingerie. I drop to my knees and undo his pants, pull down his boxer briefs and free his straining cock. “I’ve wanted to do this all night.” I lick his shaft, swirling my tongue around his

tip before I take him into my mouth and suck. I pull back just far enough to speak, my lips and breath whispering against him as I do. “You’ve had me wound up since we woke up.” Dominic moans and threads his fingers into my hair. “That was the plan, baby girl.” I love having him in my mouth, kneeling in front of him in lingerie and heels. I’m in control down here and the way Dominic’s eyes roll back and his eyelashes flutter only confirms it. I love bringing him pleasure. I love knowing that I can satisfy him. I love being what he wants. His fingers tighten in my hair, a clear sign that he’s getting close to release. “Fuck, baby. You’re too good at that.” I look up at him while he thrusts himself into my mouth, rolling his hips and staring down at me with so much passion in his eyes I might ignite. I’m tempted to let him come in my mouth because I know he’d make sure I still get to come as soon as he’s done. But, for one, I’m too greedy. I need to feel him moving inside me. But for two? He’s got a little pay back coming his way after winding me up this afternoon only to leave me hanging for so long. Just as I feel him really start to lose himself, I pull back and stand. I turn, intending to head to the bedroom, but he grabs me by the arm and pulls me back to him. “Not there,” he says, his voice low and raspy. He leads me to the floor to ceiling windows, turning on each and every light along the way. With night having fallen, the only thing anyone will have to do to see us is look up. Standing in front of the windows like this, we are completely and totally on display. Dominic unhooks my bra and lets it fall to the ground. Then he slides my panties down my hips, stopping to slap my ass on the way. He leaves my heels on and I carefully step out of my underwear. My heart pounds and damn if I’m not totally turned on. “Hands on the glass,” he says. “And spread your legs.” He runs his hand between my thighs, stopping to dip a finger inside me. I gasp, that slight bit of contact enough to make me shiver. “Please,” I whisper, needing him to stop teasing and relieve the pressure that’s building up inside me. “All in good time.” He presses himself against my opening, letting just the tip slip inside, while he reaches around to massage my clit with one hand and to roll my nipple between his thumb and forefinger with the other. I groan and press backwards, looking out into the dark night. What would someone see if they looked up? How much of me could they make out? Would they be shocked? Would they stop and stare? “You like it don’t you? Being on display.” Dominic slides a little further into me. “Just like that couple at the club last night.” “I do.” I try to press my hips back into his, but he pulls away, slipping out of me. I freeze because I want more of him, not less of him. “Why?” He pulses his hips. Tiny movements that slide his tip in and out of me. I drop my forehead against the cool glass of the window.

“I can’t think when you do that,” I manage, my breath hitching, my body writhing. Dominic freezes. “Should I stop?” I whimper. “Fuck, no. Don’t you dare stop.” He begins to roll his hips again, letting himself get deeper and deeper inside me. “Why do you like it?” he asks again. “Because it’s crazy. Dangerous.” My words catch and hiccup as he thrusts himself inside me. Our love is on display. We’re shouting it from the rooftops, me naked except for my heels and Dominic’s hands on my body. It’s glorious. Dominic gathers speed, his own orgasm building. He slams into me and I cry out, louder and louder until I fall over the edge and come, staring out at the Vegas skyline. He continues to move, thrusting and rolling and damn it if he doesn’t reach around and start rubbing my clit again. My orgasm rolls into an even bigger one and just as my knees go weak, Dominic comes, thrusting into me one last time, wrapping his arms around me to keep me upright. Somehow we manage to get the blinds closed and the lights turned off before we clean ourselves up and fall into bed. I lay my head on his chest and he wraps his arms around me, kissing my hair, my forehead. My eyes grow heavy and his breath deepens. As much as I don’t want to, as much as I would rather savor every minute we have here, I fall asleep, undone by weddings and tattoos and money and sex. Undone by Vegas itself.

9

WHEN I WAKE UP, THE FIRST THING I THINK ABOUT IS SEVENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS SITTING IN MY PURSE and I’m not sure where I left it. I spring upright, eyes wide. A quick scan of the room shows me that my purse is not here, but neither are our clothes, so that’s not saying much. I swim through convoluted images of last night, memories twisted by champagne and exhaustion. I’m pretty damn sure I had my purse on my shoulder in the elevator last night. “What’s wrong,” murmurs Dominic, stretching out, his body sliding across the sheets. “I don’t remember where I put my purse.” Panic tightens my chest and I swing my legs off the bed and bring my hands up into my hair. Dominic props himself up on his elbow. “You dropped it on the floor in the living room, remember? Right before you sucked my dick in your lingerie and heels.” A crooked smile slides across his face and he runs his hand through his hair before he collapses back onto his pillow. “Come back to bed.” “I will,” I say as I stand. “I just need to know that the money and the purse are out there.” My pulse is racing as I glide from the room. I’ll tell you what, adrenaline is way better than coffee to get you moving in the morning. “Dakota…” Dominic slides out of bed and follows me out of the room. I find the purse laying on its side, half-open under an end table and snatch it up, rip it open, and finally take a breath when I see the money envelope safely tucked inside. “Oh, thank goodness,” I say in one long rush of words. Dominic pulls me into his arms, the purse smashed between us. “What did you think was going to happen to it?” “I don’t know. Something. Anything. It just feels terribly careless to have this much money hanging out in a purse on the floor.” “Even though the money is in a sealed envelope, in a zipped purse, in a locked room?” “I mean, if all those things were true, then sure. It’s a little less careless. But we’d been drinking all day. I know I was exhausted. What if we only thought those things were true? What if we hadn’t locked the door? What if a maid found out about us winning and grabbed a key? I mean, there’s so many things that could

have gone wrong.” Dominic leads me over to the little table near the window and sits me down before heading over to make us some coffee. “Will it make you feel better or worse if we just keep it in your purse today rather than the safe?” My eyes about pop out of my head. “Are you kidding me? Do you really think I could walk around with a fortune in my purse and not end up having a panic attack? This is seriously more money than I would make in two years working at the bar.” “But just think how powerful you’d feel.” Dominic winks at me as he turns on the coffee pot. “Walking around with a small fortune slung over your shoulder. We could even get married with it.” I laugh because the thought of it is kind of wonderful if not utterly and completely terrifying. Wrap that up with the thought that I’m actually going to marry Dominic Kane today and I’m suddenly beaming. “No,” I say, shaking my head and flaring my hands. “I think the safe is the best place for the money.” Dominic pours us each a cup of coffee and then has a seat next to me. “Have you thought about what you want to do with the money?” “I really haven’t. You had me somewhat preoccupied last night.” I blow on my coffee. “Besides. It’s your money. You won it. I don’t really think it’s up to me what we do with it.” Dominic furrows his brow. “We’re going to be married today. Husband and wife. That’s our money, Dakota.” “Wow.” I sit back in my chair. “I still can’t believe it.” “Well you better believe it. It’s about to get real here in the next couple hours.” Dominic takes a careful drink and then sets his mug down on the table, his hands curled around it, his gaze locked on the dark liquid inside. “I have been thinking about it.” He looks at me and smiles. “It would be great to spend all the money while we’re here. Just go crazy. I mean, our whole relationship is built on spontaneity, you know?” I nod, trying not to show the faint turn of disappointment in my stomach. Yes, it would be a lot of fun to spend all the money on nonsense. And probably more practical than building a shipping container house given our nomadic lifestyle. “That’s very true,” I say, amping up my smile. “But…” Dominic glances at me. “And bear with me here.” He swallows hard and I’m suddenly very nervous. “As fun as it would be to go crazy … as us as it would be … I kind of want to invest in our future. There’s something really appealing about the thought of building something permanent for us.” “Are you saying want to build a shipping container house?” There’s no way I can conceal how excited I am right now. “That’s exactly what I want to do. I know how important your family is to you and it seems like it would be good to have a place for us to call home near them. Put down some roots together.” Dominic shrugs and smiles at me. “I can’t believe you weren’t sure I would love this idea.” “I mean, I thought you might…” He winks at me and I slap his arm.

“And come on, to us, this might seem totally responsible and as adult as we can get, but how many people are going to hear that we’re building a home out of shipping containers and think gee, that sure is very responsible of them?” “Does that mean you’re okay with it?” “Okay? Let’s see. In the space of one weekend I get to quit my bartending job so I can travel the world with the man I love with all of my heart where I will make a living writing—the job I’ve dreamed about having for my entire life. Oh. And I get to marry said wonderful man and we’re going to build my dream home.” I tap my finger against my pursed lips. “Let’s see. Am I okay with this?” Dominic takes my free hand. “All I ever want to do is make you happy.” “Good. Done. Mission accomplished.” We order room service and stuff our faces while wearing fluffy white robes before we shower and get dressed. One of my brilliant sisters packed a white sundress and I pull that one out and put it on. It’s super casual compared to the dress I wore yesterday, but that makes it even better. Two totally different experiences that will blend together to make one fan-fucking-tastic memory. “There’s so much more I wanted to show you before the end of the weekend,” Dominic says as he pulls on a pair of black slacks that hug his delicious ass so perfectly I just want to slap it. So I do. Which, of course, sets him off chasing me around the suite while I laugh and shriek. When he catches me, he slings me over his shoulder and carries me right back into the bedroom, slapping my ass the whole way. “There’s only one person who gets to do the spanking around here,” he says. “And it’s not you.” I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe. “Says you.” We kiss and it holds the promise of so many things. A life together spent laughing and exploring. A friendship that continues to bloom and evolve over the long years of our life. “Are you ready?” asks Dominic, his voice thick with emotion. “Totally.” We lock the money in the safe and head out the door, hands interlocked. While we wait for the elevator, Dominic leans over and bumps his shoulder against mine. I look up at him, confused. “A kiss,” he says and smiles. The birds. Our tattoos. Emotion wells up inside me and tears prick my eyes. I reach up, grab his face, and pull his lips to mine. “A kiss,” I say against his mouth. The wedding is as silly and over the top as I could have hoped for and I spend the entire ceremony giggling out of sheer happiness. By the time we slip the rings on each other’s fingers and the worst Elvis impersonator ever announces us as husband and wife, tears stream down my face and I can’t stop smiling. And the kiss. Holy shit, the way Dominic kisses me, claiming me as his for the rest of forever. If this weekend is any indication of what the rest of our life will be like, then there’s no doubt in my mind that we will live happily ever after. Forever and ever.

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