“I don’t know what it is with you cowboys from Grace Lake insisting on wearing your boots to a wedding, but heaven help me if I have to match up another cowboy anytime soon! You all are more stubborn than sixteen mules!” Lachele’s face reddened ever so slightly, and she threw up her hands in exasperation, then shoved the black oxfords she’d been holding out to him back into the box.
Beau laughed, shaking his head at her reaction. “City girls,” he muttered to himself as she continued her hissy fit. “I’ll wear my nicest pair of dress boots,” he promised, grabbing her attention as he made an imaginary cross over his heart with his index finger.
“You’d better,” she said, pointing to his chest. She was clearly not as amused as most women were with his teasing. “And trust me, if you don’t, you’re going to wish you had!”
She left Beau sitting at the empty bar, pondering just what she meant by that, as her heels clicked across the dance floor back to the door she had entered.
Six
When Scarlett pictured her wedding day, she had pictured it in a white chapel, but in all of her daydreams, it had never been this…small. The sign didn’t lie—this really was A Little White Chapel. Emphasis on the “little” part. Everything was tiny in here—the ceilings, low; the benches, short; the “chapel”—which was really just one of a few rooms—small.
It was definitely a change from her regular environment in LA where everyone was obsessed with making things bigger—bigger houses, bigger lips, bigger boobs. She didn’t care how little this chapel was. No matter its size, it was her ticket out of Hollywood.
Scarlett smiled as she wondered how many girls out there were looking for their ticket in to Hollywood. Here she was, running away from all the success most people were chasing. She couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“What’s so funny?”
Scarlett jumped and turned around to face the doors to the chapel. She was sitting on the front row and had thought she was alone. Her smile quickly returned when she realized who had walked in on her.
“Oh, nothing. Just the great paradox of life—how we all want what we can’t have until, of course, we actually get it. Then we move on to the next thing we think we want.” Scarlett stood and hugged Dr. Lachele. The doctor’s appearance solidified that she was really doing this. She was marrying a stranger, in Las Vegas, today. Her stomach flipped.
“Ah, yes. The key to breaking that cycle is to be grateful for what you have in the moment. It’s good to have goals and to want to make changes in your life, but make sure your actions are rooted in goodness, not spurred on by jealousy or frivolous comparisons.”
“I know what you mean. I’d say my intentions are good,” Scarlett said. “So, give me the rundown. How is this going to work? When do I meet my groom?”
“At three o’clock, you’ll be walking down this aisle. You’ll need to get ready in your hotel room and catch a cab over here because with how small this place is, I don’t want to risk you and your future husband accidentally running into each other.”
Scarlett nodded. Dr. Lachele sounded a little like a drill sergeant giving orders. A smile pulled at her lips. Scarlett had never been good at doing what she was told, but she’d do her best.
“That means that you need to be here, dressed and ready to go, by two thirty,” Dr. Lachele continued. “We’re in chapel three right now, but you’re going to go into chapel two and wait until I come get you, which means your groom is safely in chapel three waiting for you.”
“Okay. That sounds easy enough. What about a bouquet?” Scarlett had been under the impression that Dr. Lachele would handle all the wedding plans, but she suddenly realized they had never discussed flowers.
“I will bring your bouquet when I come to move you into the other chapel,” Lachele assured her. “Now, most people who get married here don’t have anyone else participating in their ceremony except the officiator. I know your dad won’t be walking you down the aisle, but did you want to try to find a substitute? Or are you okay walking down the aisle alone?” Lachele’s eyes looked soft, and Scarlett appreciated her care in the matter.
“I’ll just walk it alone. Thank you for thinking of that.”
“Of course, honey. I can only imagine how weird it feels to be doing all of this alone.” Dr. Lachele’s lips twitched slightly as she spoke, and Scarlett wondered if her emotions were as close to the surface as her own.
“All right, that’s all from me. If you have any questions, you can text or call me. Otherwise, get over to your hotel room and change! It’s almost noon already. You won’t have much time for hair and makeup if you don’t leave now.”
“I’m so glad my favorite glam squad from the valley agreed to come help me get ready one last time. I’m definitely not a hair or makeup aficionado. I don’t even remember the last time I did my own.” Scarlett felt heat rush to her cheeks. Maybe adjusting to “real life” would be harder than she thought.
“You’ll be stunning, as always! Have fun! See you soon!” The woman turned around as she waved goodbye to Scarlett, and just like that, Lachele walked out of the double doors at the back of the chapel.
Scarlett stayed seated on the white bench and looked at the altar. She’d told Dr. Lachele after finding out the venue last week that she would be amused if she and her future husband could be married by Elvis, but she didn’t know how seriously the woman had taken her.
Scarlett smiled at the thought of the King officiating their ceremony, but the humor of such a thing couldn’t drown out the stabbing pain in her chest. She was excited to move forward with her new life, but leaving behind her entire identity in LA had been a little harder than she’d anticipated. She wondered if the ache would subside quickly after marrying the perfect match Lachele had orchestrated, or if it would be a slow process of healing.
Will this be worth the risk? She couldn’t stop the question from replaying in her head, and it begged for an answer. She’d given up everything to be in this little white chapel on the Las Vegas Strip, and as she walked out to get into her cab, she reminded herself of all the reasons she’d done so.
* * *
Beau’s heart was racing, a state he was used to in his line of work. The difference was, when he was about to get on a bull, he knew what to expect. He’d practiced his whole life to be able to get on a bull confidently and know what to do. Today, standing at the altar waiting for his bride, he had no idea what to do or what to expect.
He’d spent the last two years pushing everyone away, and now he was supposed to welcome someone into his heart like it was easy. He definitely hadn’t practiced for this, or even imagined it.
Josh was sitting in the second row, with Lily, Drew, and his wife, Taryn, sitting in the row behind him.
Drew hadn’t been around for so many years that he had no idea Beau had joined the PBR. It had come up in one of their many conversations that fall as the wedding date approached. Beau had needed someone to talk to who had gone through this process, and Drew had been there for him every step of the way. Beau was thrilled that Drew and Taryn could make it not only to watch him ride, but for the wedding too. He wondered where his parents were as the minute hand crept along toward the twelve on the clock.
It had taken Beau a long time to tell his parents that he was getting married. He hadn’t been able to gather up the courage until he’d gotten word of the location from Dr. Lachele, who had requested his rodeo schedule for the rest of the year. Apparently, she had planned this Vegas wedding right after she’d seen that the PBR World Finals were here, but he hadn’t learned of her plan until a week ago. Luckily, his friends and family had already been planning on coming down to watch him ride.
With only one minute to spare before three, his parents slipped through the chapel doors and sat in the back row. He could hear his dad muttering something about the traffic and parking, and Beau smiled. They were all fish out of water in this city, and if they could have it their way, he was sure no one in this room would choose to
leave their country oases.
Beau glanced over at the pretty girl sitting on the opposite side of the aisle as his friends and family and conceded that he couldn’t speak for her on that. She looked up just as Beau was about to look away and gave him a warm smile that was easy to return. He just hoped her friend, or sister, or whoever she was there to support would welcome him with the same kindness in her eyes.
* * *
Scarlett’s breaths were shallow and her arms felt like liquid. She wondered if she would drop the bouquet Dr. Lachele had handed her before she even made it down the aisle.
“I’ll go in first and sit down,” Lachele said. “You stand behind this door until you hear the bride’s prelude start. Then you can walk in and finally meet your groom.”
Scarlett’s heart leaped at the thought of meeting the man she would spend the rest of her life with. She said a silent prayer that he would be the gateway to the new identity she had been hoping for, and wondered if he was just as nervous to meet her as she was to meet him.
When she entered the chapel, Scarlett immediately noticed that a Vegas Elvis, dressed head-to-toe in studded white leather, was standing at the altar to officiate at their wedding. She had to stifle a laugh, and couldn't believe that Dr. Lachele had pulled this off.
Her first few steps through the doors felt shaky as she tried to calm her nerves, but it was hard to do once her eyes locked on the handsome man who stood at the altar waiting for her. She pored over him with her eyes, his appearance the only thing that could give her a clue into who this man was until she had a chance to talk to him more after the ceremony was over.
Scarlett was grateful for all her experience as an actress because she had become skilled at hiding her emotions. If not, the huge grin that was lurking under her polite smile would definitely give away just how giddy she was about holding this guy’s hands in a few moments.
The man she saw was rugged, not at all handsome in the way men were considered to be handsome in Hollywood. His hair was shaggy, a dirty shade of blond with lighter streaks that had definitely been bleached by the sun and not by a hair dresser. After being around men who spent more money on their hair than she did, it was easy to tell the difference.
The black tux he wore classed him up a bit, but she couldn’t decide if his black cowboy boots were a nod to Vegas or something he wore normally. His face and hands were tanned, and his easy smile after meeting her eyes made her stomach flip. His broad, strong shoulders filled out his tux, and she was immediately attracted to his strength. The men she had dated in Los Angeles seemed more and more like little boys the closer she got to the athletic man ahead of her.
When Scarlett started to wonder if his lips would feel as pillowy as they looked while pressed against hers, she had to force herself to focus on his eyes for fear of the blush that was surely entering her cheeks. Luckily, the bright hazel hue was just as appealing as the rest of him, and she found it easy to look into the eyes of the man she would be spending the rest of her life with. She felt like she was floating on a cloud, and barely registered handing off her bouquet to Adriana’s waiting hands.
Wait…Adriana? A small gasp escaped Scarlett’s lips as she realized it was her friend’s hands that grabbed her bouquet from her, and not Dr. Lachele’s. She wanted to chastise her friend for not telling her that she would be coming, but she was too happy to see her, and too excited for the ceremony to start, to do anything but give her a hug. She squeezed her arms as they parted and smiled at her.
“Thanks for being here,” Scarlett whispered quickly. She swallowed the emotion that had climbed her throat during their hug, then turned and faced her groom once more. It meant so much to her that Adriana had come to support her. She would be the only link to connect Scarlett to her past—unless her parents came around, of course.
This time, as she faced the handsome man she had just studied on her walk to the altar, she felt much more vulnerable without her bouquet to buffer her from his direct view. She was just pondering what exactly to do with her hands when he took them in a firm grip and lifted them up to his mouth.
His lips were feather light over her skin as he kissed each hand, and the sensation triggered a rush of warmth that filled her belly. He raised his eyes to meet hers, and in them she found unmistakable joy, mixed with an emotion she couldn’t quite determine, reflected back at her. At least he’s happy to see me, she thought as she finally let her genuine, unmasked smile play out across her face. Just as Elvis started their vows, she recognized the emotion she hadn’t been able to identify just moments before—it was fear, and she wondered if he could see the fear in her eyes too.
* * *
Can anything prepare you for meeting the person you’re going to marry? Traditionally people don’t really know when they meet the one they’ll spend forever with. It’s a realization that most come to over time, and the first meeting isn’t necessarily monumental or even remembered.
There are other milestones—first date, first kiss, the proposal—which could solidify those feelings in a memory, encapsulate the eternity that each is wishing for with the other, but to meet for the first time and know the reality of your future together is something that few experience. Beau felt lucky to be meeting his wife in such a circumstance.
He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting to see when the door to the chapel opened, but it definitely wasn’t the red-haired bombshell who walked in. The woman who stood before him now was petite, but there was a fire in her light-brown eyes that said she wouldn’t be made to act small, and Beau already loved that about her. He could say that honestly because it was exactly what he loved about life, and bull riding—never knowing what you’re going to get, never being in charge or in total control of outcomes, but just riding out the turns.
Beau already knew that this girl would think for herself and fight with him if she thought it was necessary, and it lit a fuse of curiosity inside him that he knew wouldn’t be easily put out. Her smile was beautiful, but guarded, and he wanted to tell her it was okay, she was safe, but he couldn’t really guarantee that just yet. There was still time for him to screw this up somehow.
When she finally made her way up to the altar, he was excited to take her hands in his and see if her skin felt as silky as it looked. He wondered if she realized that she jumped a little when he reached out and grabbed her hands, but he hoped that kissing them would calm her nerves a little. He knew breaking the ice and making some sort of connection with her would at least make him feel better.
Her face was even more beautiful up close, if that was possible, and she smelled amazing. Beau didn’t know if it was the flowers that were placed in her hair, or her perfume, or if that was just how she smelled, but it pulled him in wildly.
All through the ceremony, his thoughts were focused solely on her. Scarlett was her name—he’d learned that from the man dressed as Elvis to his right—and it was fitting. She was elegant in a way Beau could never hope to equal if he tried. And she was poised. The fear he’d had all day over marrying this unfamiliar woman was slowly dissipating, and he hoped that by the end of the night, he would feel comfortable around her.
Beau knew it wouldn’t be easy to let Scarlett in, no matter how much he wanted to. After years of blocking people out, he wasn’t foolish enough to think that would change overnight. It did surprise him how much he wanted to let her into his life, though. With no reservations, no escape clauses, he wanted her to be the one who would always be there for him. All this time, he had thought that he’d loved Shayla, but already he knew that he had just loved the idea of her.
The fantasy of Shayla accepting him, wanting to stay with him, and continuing to love him even though he wouldn’t quit the rodeo was just that—a fantasy. The real desire he had to fall in love with Scarlett had pushed out any remaining “what ifs” about his last relationship, and he would do whatever he could to show Scarlett that he was all in. He’d start that now by saying “I do.”
* * *
&
nbsp; Scarlett had never met a man named Beau in all her life, but if she had, she was sure that he wouldn’t measure up to the one who stood in front of her. His warm hands held hers firmly, and she felt distinctly his from the moment he’d claimed them. His voice was low and deep, but clear as he said “I do,” and the confidence she’d seen in his eyes reassured her that she was doing the right thing.
It was easy to follow his promise with her own, and her voice was steady as she proclaimed “I do” to Beau and to the other people in the room. She had kind of expected that they’d be alone, getting married in Vegas on such short notice, but there were a few people sitting on his side of the chapel. She wanted everyone to know that she was really doing this, and that she meant it. Already, being in his presence felt so good and injected so much hope into her heart for the simplistic, “normal” life she had always wanted.
This man didn’t know her, didn’t recognize her face when she’d walked through the doors, and would never treat her the way all the other men in her life had—as a tool to get something else they wanted. That fact in and of itself was enough for her to know that this situation was the best one she could be in.
“You may now kiss the bride” in an Elvis accent was almost comical, and she stifled a laugh as Beau pulled her closer to him. Their bodies weren’t touching, but they were only inches apart, and the heat radiating from him was like a magnet pulling her in. She wished he would pull her closer, but a kiss was a kiss, and her heart was pounding at the vision of his full mouth pressing against hers.
She stared into his eyes for only a moment and saw a shy smile slowly build on his lips. A small lock of his hair had fallen across his right eye, and Scarlett reached up to brush it back. When her fingers caressed his skin, her breath caught. She loved how wild and untamed he looked, while not distracting from his charm. He was definitely unruly, but it hadn’t made him seem any less desirable. In fact, now that she’d met him this way, she couldn’t imagine him with a crisp haircut, and she hoped she’d never see one on him.
Nuptials in Nevada: An At the Altar Story Page 6