Black Tie Optional (Wild Wedding Series Book 1)

by Ann Marie Walker

  Cole wiped the perspiration from his brow, and for the hundredth time that day reminded himself that the situation was only temporary.

  “If you will please face each other and hold hands.”

  Olivia passed her bouquet to Priscilla who was now standing next to her. Apparently, the organist doubled as the honorary Maid of Honor. A thought occurred to Cole and he stole a quick peek over his shoulder. Sure enough, Tiny Angus had assumed the position of Best Man.

  “Look deep into each other’s eyes and take a little walk down memory lane together. Think about that magical moment when you met each other for the first time. And then think about everything since then that has led you to pledge your eternal love.”

  Olivia gazed down at their joined hands and a smiled curved the corner of her mouth. No doubt she was remembering the first time she’d accosted him on the sidewalk. It was raining that morning, but that hadn’t stopped Olivia from staking out the perfect spot to ambush him when he stepped out of the car. She’d no doubt been watching him for days because she knew his routine down to the minute. But what she hadn’t counted on was the rather sizable puddle that had formed at the edge of the street. Cole would never forget the look on her face when his limo pulled alongside the curb, causing a small tidal wave of dirty water to soak her from head to toe. He’d felt so bad, he’d actually stopped to hear what she had to say, something he later came to regret.

  “Do you, Cole, take this woman whose hand you now hold to be your wife?”

  Two words flashed through Cole’s mind like one of the many neon signs just outside the door. Only temporary. Only temporary. He swallowed hard to find his voice. “I do.”

  “Do you also promise before the King of Rock ’n’ Roll and these witnesses to love her, honor her, and to never leave her at the Heartbreak Hotel?”

  Cole stared at him.

  “Well, do you?” the King asked.

  “I do.”

  “Then, Olivia, do you take this man who stands before you now to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  “I do.”

  “And do you also promise before the King of Rock ’n’ Roll and these witnesses to love him, honor him, and never step on his blue suede shoes?”

  Olivia bit down on her bottom lip in what Cole assumed was an attempt to stifle a laugh. “I do,” she said.

  “Please receive the rings from the best man.”

  Cole turned toward Tiny Angus and took the two platinum bands from the palm of his hand.

  “Now Cole and Olivia, these rings are made of precious metal and just like your love they’re made to stand the test of time. But more important than the material is the shape. These rings are circles that have no end, just like the love that binds you together for all of eternity.”

  For fuck sake, did he have to keep saying that word? Three months, then this sham would be over. Cole wondered idly if people were able to get quickie divorces in Vegas, as well. Seemed like it would be a good business model. Sort of like a restaurant with a takeout stand in the rear. Married at the front door, divorced at the back.

  “If you will please do the honors.” Elvis waited while Cole and Olivia took turns sliding wedding bands on the ring finger of each other’s left hand. When they were finished, he picked up the microphone. “Take a moment to look into each other’s eyes and enjoy this special song.” A karaoke track began to play as Elvis serenaded them with a rendition of “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”

  It was the longest three minutes of Cole’s life.

  When the song came to an end, Elvis finally said the words they’d been waiting to hear. “By the power given to me by the state of Nevada as the King of Rock ’n’ Roll, it is my honor to pronounce you husband and wife and to hope that you will be all shook up for the rest of your lives. Cole, you may kiss your bride.”

  Olivia’s eyes darted up to meet his. Surely, she’d known this was coming? It was how every damn wedding ended. And what was the big deal anyway? It was just a kiss, something they’d done countless times the night before. Then why were his palms sweating? And why did it suddenly feel like Tiny Angus was duck walking across his gut? Cole knew the answer, even though he tried his best to push the thought from his mind. This wasn’t just any kiss. It was the kiss to seal their union.

  He leaned forward ever so slightly and touched his lips to hers. He only meant for it to be a quick peck, just enough to satisfy the witness’s watchful eyes. But her mouth was so soft, softer than he remembered from the night before, and she tasted so sweet, like vanilla and cherries, and before he even realized it, he was cupping her jaw and deepening their kiss. Her lips parted, inviting him in, and he took full advantage, his tongue sweeping over hers in firm, lush strokes. With a soft moan, her body went lax against his and for a few brief moments, Cole forgot not only where they were, but why.

  Elvis cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle reminder. Cole pulled back, and the King nodded his approval. With a curl of his lip, he tossed a white scarf in Olivia’s direction and mumbled a familiar “Thank you, thank you very much.” A track of “Viva Las Vegas” began to play from the speakers and with his cape held aloft to properly display the red, white, and blue eagle bedazzled on the back, their minister made a dramatic exit.

  “I guess Elvis has left the building?” Olivia joked.

  “Thank fuck.”

  After a few awkward moments, she asked. “So, what now?”

  Cole checked his watch. “We better get back to the hotel.” The combined bachelor and bachelorette party for Matthew and Emily was later that night. And even though a loud party was the last thing Cole was in the mood for at the moment, it was, after all, the reason they were in Vegas.

  “Oh right, we have that thing tonight.”

  “Yeah, the thing.” Jesus, they sounded like a couple of middle school kids having an awkward conversation behind the school cafeteria. Maybe they could spend their honeymoon locked in a closet for a round of Seven Minutes in Heaven.

  “Supposed to be the hottest club in town,” Olivia added as they made their way through the chapel doors and into the parking lot.

  Cole squinted at the setting sun. “That’s what I heard.”

  “I guess I’ll probably see you there.”

  He kicked a piece of gravel with his shoe. “Probably.” Yup, it was exactly like middle school. Only there wouldn’t be Seven Minutes in Heaven or anywhere else for that matter. His new bride had made it very clear that, despite the mind-shattering orgasms he’d given her the night before, she had no desire to consummate their marriage. Then again, she did seem rather invested in that kiss and as much as it pained him to admit it, so was he. Despite her smart mouth and stubborn attitude, the fact remained that he wanted her. In his bed, on her knees, bent over his sofa. Fucking hell right now he’d even settle for the backseat of his rental car. Perhaps she was feeling the same way. And it was their wedding night after all . . .

  Cole looked up, hoping to gauge her interest, but it was too late. She was already gone.

  Chapter Nine

  The day had been so hectic, Olivia hadn’t had a chance to catch her breath much less contemplate all that had transpired. But as she stood at the entrance to the hottest club on the Las Vegas Strip, she couldn’t help but wonder if the past twenty-four hours had been some sort of dream. Or at the very least an elaborate prank. Surely someone with a camera crew was about to jump out from behind the cab line to inform her she was on the latest episode of some sleazy reality show and that she wasn’t actually Mrs. Coleman Grant III.

  But instead of a B-List television host, Olivia was greeted by a rather intimidating bouncer. He was dressed in all black, an apparent pre-requisite for working most anywhere in that town, and stood well over six feet tall. Yet it wasn’t his height that Olivia found most daunting, it was the way his biceps bulged the fabric of his suit coat with even the slightest movement of his arms. This was a man who could handle any trouble that came this way, swiftly and succinctly. Luckily for
them, they were invited guests.

  “Name?” the man asked.

  Olivia turned to find Cassie’s wide eyes locked on the scene just beyond the doors. In the distance the main room of the club pulsed and throbbed like a living creature. A dance floor the size of a basketball court was jammed with bodies all swaying beneath a giant LED chandelier that looked like a spaceship hovering above the massive crowd. Bright lights reflected across liquid crystals as the monstrosity raised and lowered and spun to the beat of the music.

  She nudged Cassie with her elbow, breaking the trance.

  “Um, we’re here for the Miller/Ford party,” she said, giving the man the last names of the bride and groom. Matthew Miller and Emily Ford weren’t really the Vegas type. Their wedding was going to be a small, intimate affair in Emily’s hometown, some charming little place in Georgia that a national magazine had declared one of the “Top Ten Small Towns in America.” The last Olivia had heard from Cassie, her older brother and his fiancée weren’t even planning to have stag and hen nights. Eventually that gave way to plans for a joint trip with members of the wedding party. But then Matthew’s friends got involved and one thing led to another and the next thing she knew half the wedding guests were on their way to Las Vegas.

  “You’re on the terrace,” the bouncer said, offering no more explanation. He touched his fingertip to a small receiver lodged in his ear, then moved on to the next party, a group of young girls who were literally bouncing with excitement.

  Cassie looked at her and shrugged. “Upstairs maybe?”

  Olivia nodded. “Lead the way.”

  The two women zigged and zagged their way through the club until they found the entrance to The Terrace, a luxurious rooftop veranda providing sweeping views of the Las Vegas Strip in all its glittering glory. Though much smaller than the main club below, this venue still featured a large dance floor as well as a bar that ran the length of the building. But with etched glass and soft lighting, the tiered cabanas with plush sofas and billowing gauze curtains offered a relaxing atmosphere for enjoying a cocktail under the stars. It was the perfect place for a swanky bachelor/bachelorette party.

  A cool breeze blew a wisp of an auburn curl across Cassie’s face. “I thought the desert was supposed to be hot,” she said, tucking the stray hair behind her ear.

  “It is, during the day.”

  “Should have told me that before I packed nothing but sleeveless dresses.”

  “You’ll be fine once you start dancing. And besides, you’re killing it in that dress.” The two women had both gone the little black dress route for the night, Cassie in a sequined number and Olivia in a knock-off bandage dress. Under the right circumstances, even she enjoyed playing dress up. Unless of course she was at a cheesy wedding chapel and the dress in question was a retro wedding gown complete with an Elvira makeover.

  It had taken forever to scrub her face clean of the thick liner Mrs. Presley had applied above and below her eyes. When she finally finished, the last thing Olivia felt like doing was putting on more makeup. But it wasn’t likely a Vegas nightclub with thousand-dollar table minimums was going to let her in wearing the jeans and flip-flops she’d sported earlier in the evening. So she’d changed into her favorite dress, gathered her blond waves into a loose updo, and finished the look off with glossy nude lips and properly done smoky eyes.

  “No, killing it is how I would describe these shoes,” Cassie said with a laugh. “But nothing a few drinks won’t fix. What do you want, Pinot Grigio or are you hitting the hard stuff?”

  Olivia winced. “Not quite ready to get back on that horse. I’ll stick with soda for now.”

  “One Diet Coke with a lime coming right up then.” Cassie started to leave, then added, “And when I get back, you can tell me all about last night.”

  “Not much to tell.” Yeah, right. Only a wild night of fucking the man she hated most in the world followed by an outlandish marriage proposal and an even more outrageous wedding. Just your average weekend. So far, she’d managed to avoid Cassie’s interrogation. Sister-of-the Groom duties had kept her too busy to launch a proper investigation, but Olivia knew it was only a matter of time until she had to fess up and from the sound of things, that time had just run out.

  But she still had a few minutes of quiet to enjoy before the storm.

  Olivia moved to the corner of the patio to a spot overlooking the Strip. Below her, cars and crowds inched forward along the famed drive while behind her distant music blended with the murmur of conversation to create a white noise perfect for contemplating the day’s events. Depending on the point of view, she’d either made the worst mistake of her life or had taken advantage of the opportunity of a lifetime. Only time would tell which one.

  A sinking feeling settled in the pit of Olivia’s stomach. Maybe contemplation wasn’t such a good idea after all. Needing a distraction, she opened her beaded clutch and pulled out her smartphone. She was about to snap a photo of the mind-boggling view when a voice called out from somewhere behind her.

  “You’re not going to launch yourself into my lap again, are you?” She turned to find Cole lounging on a sectional sofa, his all black wardrobe a striking contrast to the white upholstery. He had one leg crossed over the other at the knee and an arm draped casually over the back cushion. “Because if you are, let me put my drink down first.”

  “I did no such thing. I only fell into your lap because of the turbulence.”

  Cole set his drink down on the glass table top and came to stand in front of her. “Did turbulence knock your bathing suit off as well?”

  “That wasn’t for you.”

  A smug grin curved his lips. “Oh, but in the end, it was.”

  She lifted her chin. “And in the end, you enjoyed it so much you put a ring on it.”

  Their eyes locked, neither of them looking away.

  Cole leaned in closer. Close enough for her to smell the scent of his cologne, to see his eyes darken, and to hear his breath grow shallow. His gaze dropped to her mouth as his head dipped, and for a moment she thought he might kiss her. But instead of touching his lips to hers, he brought them to her ear. “You didn’t talk so much when you had my cock in your mouth.”

  Olivia’s blood boiled. And yet there was no denying the effect he had on her. How could one man be so infuriating and still so damn sexy at the same time. She didn’t know whether she wanted to slap him or kiss him, since somehow she had an irresistible urge to do both. But in the end, she did neither. Instead she simply turned on her heel and walked away. She’d only made it a few yards when her phone vibrated in her hand.

  An incoming text from Cole lit her screen. Not like you to give up so easily.

  Bastard. She gritted her teeth as she typed a reply. Who says I’m giving up?

  You walked away.

  I was bored. Another thought occurred to her. Plus, I know you enjoy this view.

  Is that so?

  You’ve spent the past three months checking out my ass, so yes.

  There was a long pause before the tiny bubbles appeared to indicate he was responding. When the words finally popped up on the screen, they weren’t at all the ones she’d been expecting. Why aren’t you wearing your wedding ring?

  “Who are you texting?” Cassie asked.

  The question hit Olivia like a bucket of ice-cold water, and she froze. Because while her friend’s intent was innocent enough, she’d unknowingly just asked the million-dollar question. Or in Cole’s case, as he was so fond of reminding her, the billion-dollar question. And while there were at least a dozen ways to describe the person currently on the receiving end of Olivia’s text messages—Dr. Douchebag still being one of her favorites—the fact remained that he now had a new title as well. One her best friend was still blissfully unaware of. No time like the present, she thought. Besides, maybe the loud music would drown out the screams.

  Olivia looked up from her phone and braced herself for impact. “My husband.”

  “Your
husband?” Cassie laughed. “Yeah, well, Chris Hemsworth texted me earlier, so there.”

  But when Olivia didn’t join in on the laughter, let alone crack a smile, Cassie grew quiet. A beat passed before she reacted at all but then her eyes grew so wide they nearly popped out of her head.

  “You got married?” The last word was more screeched than spoken but thanks to the music, barely audible. “Who? When? And for fuck’s sake why?”

  Oh hell, she was swearing. Cassie hardly ever swore, and when she did it was usually over something truly epic, like when her flambé nearly burning down the apartment complex. This conversation was going to be a lot more difficult than Olivia feared.

  She took Cassie by the hand and lead her to an empty spot on one of the sofas where she tried her best to give an accurate accounting of the last twenty-four hours. At least the part that she remembered.

  “You got married today. By an Elvis impersonator,” Cassie said when Olivia finished. It was as if she needed to say the words out loud in order to fully process them.

  “Yes,” Olivia replied even though Cassie hadn’t really asked a question.

  “And you were okay with that?”

  Olivia glanced down at the bare ring finger of her left hand. She’d told Cole she didn’t care what type of ceremony they had, and in all honesty, she hadn’t. She’d never been one of those little girls who dressed her Barbie up in a frilly white gown to marry her off to Ken with the entire playroom serving as witness. And while she enjoyed a good romance novel as much as the next gal, at least the smutty parts, she never really believed in the over-the-top gestures. Those were conjured fantasies after all, not real life. But still, she’d never quite imagined a wedding like the one they’d had either.