“This is a commitment ceremony, right?” she asked, staring down at a clipboard. “You chose the Protestant vows, modified slightly. Right?”
Liam nodded. “I hope that’s okay,” he said to me.
“Sounds good.” I gave him the first real smile I felt. With Liam holding my hand, this wasn’t nearly as scary as I’d built it up to be.
“It says you don’t need us to provide a professional witness?"
There was a rustle from behind us as Katy, Bekka, and Lauren moved to stand. “That’s us,” Lauren said.
The woman peered over the group of them and looked bored out of her mind. “We only need one.”
“Me,” Bekka and Katy said at the same time.
“Bekka,” I said with finality, knowing Katy would simmer with rage.
“No photos,” the lady said. When Katy started to protest, the woman lifted her head like a parent getting ready to pin an argumentative child with one chilling look and repeated, “No photos. After the ceremony, we’ll have some photos with the photographer.” She glanced down at her clipboard. “I’ll have the bride follow me and the minister will be out in a moment to go over the details with the groom.” She eyed us both over her glasses. “Ready?”
Looking at Liam one last time, I said, “I’m ready,” before separating.
“Not even real champagne,” Katy said from the room I was supposed to get ready in, which was adjacent to the conservatory we’d be married in. She sniffed the glass of sparkling juice and curled her lip.
“Maybe they don’t have an alcohol license,” Bekka said, fluffing the small bouquet that had been provided for me: six white roses, bound in twine and encircled with baby’s breath.
I looked around the room, taking in the lighted white marble vanity and the pretty black and white floral wallpapered room. It was something out of an old movie, maybe, but it didn’t look old at all. As my first impression of a Las Vegas chapel, this one was better than expected. Though, I supposed Liam must have known that when he’d booked our reservation. The roses were a nice touch, an upgrade he’d purchased. Was I about to fake marry a romantic?
Taking in my gold dress in the mirror, I was embarrassingly aware of just how amateur we must have seemed, considering that I wasn’t even in traditional wedding garb. So, the small touches meant a great deal to me. I wondered what this kind of thing had set him back. I’d promised I would pay, but he’d taken care of it when he’d booked the reservation, apparently.
“Let’s get a picture of you, holding this,” Bekka said, pushing the bouquet into my hands and picking up her phone. “Since we can’t take any photos during the ceremony, let’s get one in here at least.”
I stood in front of the pretty wallpaper, holding the white roses between my hands and smiled for the photo.
Turning, I faced the mirror above the vanity and took in my reflection. My hair was smooth and out of my face, my makeup looked pretty decent considering the rush I’d been in when I’d touched it up. I leaned forward to reapply my lipstick and paused as I stared at my reflection. My stomach clenched, and I wished for nothing more than to get the hell out of this room and reunite with Liam. He had this power to unsettle me, of catching me off guard. But he also possessed the ability to calm me when my nerves tried to get the best of me. Dangerous combination. I’d need to be careful around him—depending on where things went between us after all of this.
“Oh, that’s a good one,” Bekka said breathlessly, causing me to turn. She held her phone up in front of her face and the flash went off. “I wanted a few candids, too. I feel bad that you aren’t getting the real wedding experience of having an actual photographer.”
“It’s okay, Bekka. This isn’t a real wedding, remember?” I said, giving her an easy smile.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Lauren squealed for the fifth time since we’d been ushered into this waiting room.
“Me neither,” Katy said, pouring her glass of sparkling grape juice into the trash. “How long is this going to take, anyway?”
Bekka turned to her sister. “This was your idea, remember? You were the one who pushed the dare on Tori. And you’re now complaining about how long it’ll take?”
“I’m not complaining,” Katy said, sour-faced. “It was just a question.” She rolled her shoulders. “I’m just ready for this to be over.”
“It’s a wedding,” Lauren said like Katy was stupid. “They’re not exactly five-minute dealios. Your sister’s won’t be either.”
“He could’ve chosen one of those drive-thru places,” Katy said, still complaining. “We’d be in and out in a flash.”
“Well maybe he likes to take his time,” I finally said, leveling her with a gaze. “Some guys don’t like to rush through things.”
“But he’s rushing to get married to you. If you don’t know him, then you must have paid him.”
I didn’t have the energy for Katy then and was grateful when the wedding planner opened the door and ushered them out to take their seats.
I checked the clock next to the door—it was eleven pm. Interestingly, I wasn’t the least bit tired. Despite the afternoon of imbibing and excessive suntanning, I felt like I had the energy to run a marathon.
Not that I wanted to. Fuck that.
But I was halfway nervous that this restless energy would manifest itself into me taking a jog down the aisle to where Liam awaited me. It seemed to take forever, waiting for the planner to come back in and let me know it was my turn. What could they possibly be waiting for? What took so long?
When the planner finally opened the door and nodded at me, my feet moved so quickly that she gently murmured for me to slow down. “There’s no rush,” she said as she escorted me down a small, dimly lit hallway to where I could only glimpse the conservatory.
But my heartbeat thrummed quickly, in anticipation for what lay before me. So, it was one thing to tell me there was no rush, but it was another thing entirely to convince my traitorous heart to slow down.
My first sight of the conservatory took my breath away. It was a dark metal structure, filled up with clean, clear glass windows. Beyond the windows lay a grove of trees that were wrapped intricately with small white lights, the same lights that framed the dark metal beams and window supports in this pocket of heaven. With the dark sky beyond the windows above, it was like walking into an illuminated forest, interspersed with black chairs that sat on either side of an aisle covered in white fabric, leading all the way to where a minister and Liam waited for me, under a black iron archway, wrapped in white roses.
The venue for our wedding had no right to be this romantic, not at all. If anything, it made me feel like I was walking down the aisle to a man that was mine for more than just this moment. It intensified every emotion that battled its way forward, leaving me breathless and anxious and a little bit impatient.
My gaze found Liam’s as I walked alone up the aisle to an instrumental version of Here Comes the Sun. It was far from the traditional Canon in D arrangement I was familiar with, but it was perfect. Lighthearted, but it fit the mood of the room and its occupants.
Goosebumps erupted along my arms, but I wasn’t cold. Liam’s gaze was steady, his smile sure and his stance convincing to anyone who might wonder if this was the real thing. I could do a lot worse than a groom like him, however fake this was.
10
The song had been perfect for her. As soon as the first few chords played, the smile that bloomed on her face equaled that of a sun—or at least that’s how it seemed. It was entirely possible that I was romanticizing this moment between us, but it was virtually impossible to pretend that a wedding ceremony in this place was anything but romantic.
She fucking glowed. I was positive that if the thousands of little white lights illuminating the room had suddenly turned off, the glow she possessed—that she radiated—would be enough. But I was grateful for the light, for how it allowed me to see her all the more clearly.
The walk down
the aisle seemed to last for miles, but I couldn’t complain about the extra time I got to watch her walk to me. It was easy to ignore the dozen empty seats in this small but bright room, especially when she looked at me the way she did—with humor she tucked into her cheek but a smile that felt genuine all the same.
When she finally reached me, the minister quietly encouraged me to greet her and walk her up the two steps to the stage where we waited. I was grateful for that, because I’d been so mesmerized that I’d forgotten, for a moment, what we were here for.
She placed her hand in mine, looking up at me with the nerves I’d seen, but also a sense of humor that had made it all too easy to agree to do this, with her.
I led her up the couple of steps to the stage, never letting go of her hand, and the minister raised his hand, shushing the music and causing the few people witnessing our ceremony to take their seats behind us.
“Good evening, everyone,” the minister said. “From this place of beauty,” he said, holding his arms up to gesture at our surroundings, “we remove ourselves from our daily lives to witness a special moment between Victoria McLaughlin and Liam Best.”
Victoria. Not just a Tori. I squeezed her hand reassuringly and she glanced sideways at me, the side of her mouth quirked up.
“Today, Victoria and Liam join their lives in the union of marriage. We come together not to mark the start of a relationship, but to acknowledge and strengthen a bond that already exists between these two individuals.”
Tori squeezed my hand and I bit down on a grin that she was failing to suppress herself.
“It is my honor to officiate this ceremony on this beautiful evening. Let’s begin.” He cleared his throat, looking down at the book he held before him. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God to join this man, and this woman in holy matrimony. We are here to give recognition to the beauty of love that is shared between Victoria and Liam as they complete their family in holy matrimony. Marriage is a contract not to be entered into lightly—”
I squeezed Tori’s hand.
“—but thoughtfully and seriously and with a deep realization of the obligations and responsibilities. Marriage is a sacred union between husband and wife and shall remain unbroken. It is the basis of a stable and loving relationship and is a joining of two hearts, bodies and souls.” He looked over our heads. “If any person here can show cause why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
I half expected one of Tori’s friends—the one called Katy—to interrupt in some way, but she held her tongue.
The minister turned a page and looked right at us. “Please face one another and hold hands.”
My heart thundered in my chest as we faced one another and clasped hands.
“Victoria,” the minister began, and Tori’s hands squeezed mine like she was afraid of falling. “Will you have this man to be your husband; to live together with him in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto him as long as you both shall live?”
“I will.”
The minister repeated a similar script to me, prompting “I will,” from my throat.
“Will all of you witnessing these promises do all in your power to uphold these two persons in their marriage?”
The silence from the room in response caused Tori and I to burst into laughter.
“This is the part where you say, ‘We will,’” the minister instructed Tori’s friends with a laugh himself.
Her friends, while giggling, uttered “We will.”
“Carrying on then,” the minister said, turning his attention back to the book in his hands. He shifted so he faced me. “Repeat after me, Liam.”
“I, Liam Best, take you, Victoria McLaughlin…”
I repeated what he said, my attention directly on Tori.
“…to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward…”
I smiled gently down at her, repeating the words.
“…for better for worse, for richer for poorer…”
She smiled at me, without the same humor for the craziness of this situation that she’d first possessed.
“…in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death…”
With each delivered line, the vows felt heavier. But not in an unwelcome way. We may have entered this marriage with humor, but by the time I repeated the minister’s final line, “This is my solemn vow,” it felt like a solemn vow.
Tori repeated the minister’s lines back to me, holding eye contact the entire time. I forgot that we weren’t alone, that this was supposed to be a joke, because the way she looked at me felt more real than anything I’d felt in far too long.
“Lord, bless these rings to be signs of the vows by which Liam and Victoria have bound themselves to one another.”
Tori scrunched her eyebrows in clear confusion as she watched the minister turn to grab the rings I’d purchased as part of the package. At fifty bucks each, they weren’t breaking the bank. And though I’d made Tori the paper engagement ring, I knew we couldn’t very well have a ceremony without something to slide onto one another’s ring fingers.
We repeated the lines the minister asked us to say as we took turns sliding the thin, silver bands onto each other’s third finger. Hers was, as expected, a little loose, but I knew that didn’t matter too much all things considered.
“Now that Victoria and Liam have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of rings, I pronounce that they are husband and wife, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Victoria and Liam, it is my joy to present you as husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride,” he said to me.
Without hesitation, I stepped forward, sliding my hand along her jaw and holding her firmly as my mouth covered hers.
Finally.
We kissed far longer than probably appropriate, but the applause and laughter that erupted around us caused me to finally pull back. My hand found hers once again and we turned to walk down the aisle.
“There will be photographs out in the grove,” the planner said to us as we reached the end of the aisle.
“Holy shit, we did it,” Tori said as soon as the planner stepped away to open the doors outside. “We actually did it.”
“We did,” I said, feeling like my entire body was buzzing. I held open the door for her and followed behind her out into the grove. Despite the late hour, the grove—being filled by lighted trees and under the moonlight—was much brighter than I expected.
“Hey,” a man said, stepping forward and shaking our hand. “I took some photos of the ceremony from inside and out here and then we usually do the formal portraits out here, if that works?"
I nodded when Tori looked at me. I’d paid for the nicest package we could get, considering the late booking.
“I think we get ten photos,” I told her.
“Got it,” she said, her expression slightly guarded. What was going on in her head?
“Okay, face one another,” the photographer directed. “Bride, put your arms around his neck.”
Tori stepped stiffly toward me, and I realized that the bubble we’d existed in while exchanging vows had burst, inviting reality back in.
I ignored the photographer’s directives and put my hand around to the back of her head, cradling her close, drawing her focus back to me. “We don’t have to do this.”
That seemed to give her pause. “No,” she said after a moment, as the photographer sighed his impatience. “Let’s do this. And then, burgers?”
“Burgers,” I agreed, because the moment we’d said our vows, I’d realize that they held no permanence. Tori could walk out of my arms, out of this grove, and I’d never see her anymore. While I knew that a real marriage didn’t equal ownership, I supposed there was a comfort in knowing that the person in quest
ion couldn’t slip away from you too easily once the license was signed. A plan to get burgers meant this wasn’t goodbye. “I suppose it’s far from traditional wedding food,” I told her as we performed the pose the photographer had instructed.
“I don’t even care,” she said, tipping her head back and looking up at me. “I’m starving. And ever since you brought it up in the waiting room, I just keep thinking about them.”
The photographer snapped a few photos, had us turn so we were in a prom-style pose. “I hope the ceremony was okay,” I said. “I chose Protestant, but I asked them to remove the prayer portions. It didn’t feel right saying prayers given the situation.”
She laughed lightly and shifted so we faced one another. “Probably a good idea.” She placed her hand on my chest and I looked down at the simple band that butted up against the paper ring. “Nice touch with the rings, by the way,” she said. “And the bouquet. Thank you, Liam. Honestly, the whole thing was beautiful.”
“That’s what I thought too,” I said, looking directly into her eyes so she understood my meaning.
“How about a kiss?” the photographer asked.
I tipped her chin with one finger, bringing her soft lips in contact with mine. It was so easy to lose myself in her, each time we connected this way. It was if kissing her was a language I’d quickly mastered, a language that felt more comfortable than any other.
After a moment, Tori dropped the bouquet she’d been holding and gripped onto my jacket, pulling me closer, tighter, to her. Our lips fused, heat shot through my body, and I was immensely grateful that my nearly instant erection was hidden by our pose.
She let go before I did, giving me a wicked smile the moment my eyes slid open again.
Yep, I’d definitely lied to myself when I said she wasn’t made of magic.
11
“I’m kind of disappointed that we didn’t even get an Elvis,” Lauren said from the backseat of the Uber. “Isn’t that the thing with Las Vegas weddings?”
One Little Dare Page 8