“Probably,” I say, shrugging. “But I just felt like I should do it. I’m gonna seriously talk to him about this gambling shit, though. He’s gotta get it under control or he’ll just end up in the same spot again.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “You Laird boys certainly have your vices,” she teases. “A sex addict and a gambling addict.”
“I’m not a sex addict, at least not a dysfunctional one,” I protest, though I’m totally laughing.
“Sure,” she says, nudging me with her knee.
“Maybe I’m just a Lola addict,” I say, snuggling close to her.
“I’m glad there’s no twelve step program for that,” she replies, draping her leg over mine as she molds into my side.
“Are you really pissed that I said I’d give Jonathan the money?” I ask her.
“No.” She shakes her head.
“Good,” I say, kissing her before I relax back onto the pillow.
I’m sure she’s not exactly jumping for joy at the idea, but I think she sees it as a sign of maturity and compassion from me. Not to mention that she has to know it makes me feel a little smug to be bailing out Mr. Perfect himself.
Chapter 20
Lola
I’M TOTALLY CAPTIVATED by my reflection as I transform into a glamorous bride. My hair has been smoothed into manageable curls, my makeup is soft and light, and I feel like a princess—as cliché as that sounds.
Nearly everyone has cleared out, but Stacey is still “backstage” with me to help me get into this dress. Her date, the infamous Ethan Dane, is waiting for her back in the small ballroom, and she’s serving as my assistant. The bodice of this thing is tight, and I have to suck in because of the corset-like structure, but it’s worth it because I know it’s going to look stunning.
“It’s not closing back here,” she says as she tugs at the back of the dress. “I can’t get these last couple buttons.”
I try standing up straighter, hoping that will make up for those last couple millimeters. She pulls again, and it feels incredibly tight around my chest, but the buttons still won’t fasten.
“There are just two of them,” she says, clearly trying to stay calm so I won’t freak out. “I’m afraid I’m going to tear something if I force it.”
“Shit! Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Are you wearing a different bra than before or something?”
“No.” I shake my head and try to figure out what to do.
“Well, then, maybe the altitude had an effect on your boobs, because this is too tight back here,” she teases.
“That’s not possible—at least I don’t think it is,” I say, looking at her through the mirror. “They measure everything. That’s why there are fittings for these things. It was fine just a few weeks ago. There’s no way my boobs suddenly grew in that time.”
“I’m just saying, clearly something’s different because it’s really tight.”
“Well…fuck.”
“Try lifting up your arms,” she suggests.
I raise my arms over my head and try to expel any cumbersome air from my lungs, and somehow she manages to secure those buttons. When I lower my arms, my cleavage would make Dolly Parton blush. This can’t work.
“I can’t go out there with my tits hanging out,” I say, attempting to push them down.
“Then you’re just gonna have to lose the bra,” she replies, crossing her arms.
“Aw, but it’s part of the whole set. I wanted to really have something classy and sexy for tonight,” I lament. I bought the most expensive underwear I’ve ever owned for the sole purpose of making my wedding night one to remember, and now I’ll be missing a crucial piece?
“Lola, can you breathe?” Stacey says through a snicker.
“Is it really that obvious that it’s crushing my lungs?” I blush with embarrassment. If she can tell, everyone else will be able to as well.
“I know you have your fancy-pants bra and everything, but you need the extra room in there,” she says, cautiously poking my boob from the side like she thinks it will pop.
I throw my head back and laugh, but that only makes it worse. “I think you’re right,” I exhale, lifting my arms up again.
She undoes a few of the buttons and I slip my bra off. Thankfully, that seems to do the trick because it’s gone from Kevlar corset to form-fitting bodice. I can actually breathe now.
“Better?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I answer, nodding.
“Those things were strapped in there like Hannibal Lecter,” she jokes.
I’m laughing when we hear a knock at the door. When I get myself together, we both call out for the person to come in. I’m guessing it’s my mom, or possibly even James trying to take one quick glance before the ceremony.
What I am definitely not expecting is the man standing in the doorway. My father.
“Hi, Dad,” I say through an aggravated sigh.
I see Stacey’s eyebrows shoot up. I may or may not have mentioned to her that my dad is an asshole and that James had to convince me to even invite him to this event.
“Lola,” he says with a nod. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.” My smile doesn’t reach my eyes. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“Well, I was invited, so I’m here,” he says, clearly sensing my irritation. “It’s my daughter’s wedding, after all.”
“Yeah,” I say, turning around and walking back to the makeup table. It’s not like I need anything, but I just don’t want to be face-to-face with him in that doorway for another second. I can hardly breathe because of the dress, and now this!
“Um, Lola,” Stacey timidly chimes in, “I’m going to go get, uh, something.”
I nod to her, releasing her from this tense scene. Unfortunately, that makes my dad take a step into the room and soon he’s standing behind me looking at me through the mirror.
“Why are you here, Dad?” I quietly snap once Stacey shuts the door behind her.
“I’m your father,” he angrily whispers back. “I was invited—though I noticed my invitation arrived pretty damn late. Problem with the mail?”
I turn and glare at him.
“It’s not too late to back out of this,” he says, stepping closer. “You don’t have to go through with it.”
“Why the hell wouldn’t I go through with it?” I scoff.
“You really think this is the best idea?”
“Yes! Obviously, I do.”
“Marrying a porn star?”
“Don’t even start with that shit! You don’t get to come in here and have an opinion of my life.”
“I’m just trying to get you to use your head!” he says, pointing at me accusatorially.
“This conversation isn’t happening,” I say, grabbing my forehead.
“Oh, yes, it is,” he responds. “You need a reality check. Somebody’s got to get you to open your eyes and see what you’re doing here.”
“And what is that?” I put my hand on my hip and glower at him.
“You’re committing yourself to a relationship with a porn star. You’re letting everyone associate you with that. Are you sure you want to be the wife of a porn star?”
“I already am, Dad!” I shout, trying to keep it quiet. “James and I are already married. We’re just doing this for our families.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“Yes! We got married in Vegas. We’ve been married for months.”
“And you didn’t think you should tell me something like that?”
“Must have slipped my mind,” I venomously reply.
“Jesus,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “You’ve made a huge mistake, Lola. Maybe you can still get it annulled. You don’t have to be married to a porn star. You can get out of it.”
“No, I can’t, and no, I won’t. And, for the record, that porn star is the only reason you were even invited at all. If it had been my choice, I would have thrown your invitation in the fucking fireplace!”<
br />
“Don’t you dare talk to me that way!” he says, practically stomping his foot.
I pause, take a deep breath and look in his eyes. “So did you just come here to ruin this for me? Was it just to make me feel bad? Haven’t you done that enough already?”
“I’m not trying to ruin it,” he says, just a little bit remorsefully. “Jesus, be realistic, Lola! You’re smart. Just think for a minute!”
“I have,” I reply, staying firm. “I love James. And I’d like you to leave me alone right now.”
He sighs and shakes his head like he’s frustrated with me—which nearly sends me into a fucking rage.
“Please, just go and don’t shit on this day for me,” I beg, my voice cracking.
“Fine.” He rolls his eyes and then heads back to the door.
Once he’s gone, I take a seat in front of the makeup mirror—despite this unbearably tight dress—and I try to squelch my tears.
Stacey peeks her head in and darts over to me. “Hey, are you all right?”
“Yeah,” I answer in a gravelly croak. “I’m fine.”
“Oh, don’t cry, Lola,” she says, throwing her arms around me to hug me.
“I know.” I sniffle. “I shouldn’t even let him bother me. But I just hate the fact that he’s here. I didn’t want to invite him, but James said I should, since he was trying to get things right with his dad, and now he’s here, and I feel like I’m going to fall apart.”
“Don’t fall apart, Lola,” she says sweetly. “Just think about everybody else who’s out there waiting for you—all those people who love you. Think about James and how great it’s going to be to stand up there with him.”
I take a deep breath and pull it together. She’s right. This is just a little speed bump. Today is about James, about everyone seeing him as my husband, about our families coming together. I should be all about love right now, not freaking out over a man who has done nothing but tear me down, whether he means to or not.
I hug her tighter and give her a nod. “All right, I’m ready to do this.”
She laughs, high-fives me, and it’s time to get this show on the road.
Chapter 21
James
I HEAR THE FIRST NOTES of the music, and my heart starts pumping. All eyes are turned to the doorway as everyone awaits Lola.
She steps out and our eyes lock. My chest feels tight, like I can’t contain all the emotion racing through my blood. I’m almost overcome with love, and there’s a fuckin’ supernatural warmth that surges through me and makes me feel a little lightheaded.
She’s beautiful. Radiant. A vision.
I see her take a deep breath, and she begins her walk down the aisle solo, just as we’d planned. With the white dress and the flowers, she looks like an angel, like she just arrived from heaven.
My smile gets wider with her every step. My love. My wife.
She arrives at the end, and my cheeks hurt with how wide I’m grinning. She’s beaming, and I think this is the happiest I’ve ever seen her, which makes me even happier.
She’s glowing. I swear, there’s light coming off of her, sort of like Galadriel or something. It’s like I can see her aura.
We look at each other for a moment and I want to kiss her so bad my muscles ache. I can’t breathe. I know I’m supposed to wait until the end, but I don’t know if I can.
She smiles at me. She can tell. She knows exactly what I’m thinking.
With our friends and families gathered around us, I’m holding back with every ounce of restraint I can muster, but I don’t think that’ll be enough.
“Fuck it, we’re already married,” I exhale.
I grab her face and kiss her. The relief of having my lips on hers is like a wave crashing over me.
I hear her mom laugh, and soon everyone in the crowd is chuckling as politely as possible.
When I pull back, I’m grinning down at Lola and her cheeks are pink. She wraps her arms around me and curls into my body, nuzzling into my chest. I hold her tight, and I enjoy the feel of my beautiful wife in my arms.
She moves back and looks up at me again. This time, she reaches out and wipes my cheek with her thumb. I didn’t even realize I was crying. She’s crying too, so I wipe her tears away and kiss both her cheeks softly.
“God, what dorks we are,” she says, giggling.
“It’s even worse considering we’ve already done this once before,” I softly reply.
She laughs and nods in agreement before I take her hand and kiss her knuckles.
“Sorry about that,” I say to the retired priest officiating the ceremony.
We’re not doing a religious thing, but Lola’s mom insisted that we have a priest at least act as the ringleader for this whole thing. The one she chose is Lola’s Nana’s friend, and he’s about eighty. I’m not entirely sure if he’s a little senile or if he just likes hitting the bottle, because he was very loose when we met him. I dug him, though, because he didn’t treat me like I was going to burst into flames for my former career.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, “we are gathered here today to join James Laird and Lola Caraway in holy matrimony.”
Lola looks in my eyes, and I don’t think I’ve ever smiled this much in my life.
We’re blazing through this whole thing, saying all the right words and doing things at the right time. We get to the ring part and suddenly we hear Chumbawamba’s “Tubthumping” playing out of nowhere. Everyone looks around for a second before Father Benny nervously reaches into his pocket. He quickly silences his phone, but that doesn’t stop the whole place from erupting in laughter.
“Sorry about that,” he says, chuckling. “Thought I had it on silent. Anyway, let’s proceed.”
Both Lola and I are cracking up as we put rings on each other’s fingers. Our original wedding had an Elvis impersonator, and our formal one has Father Chumbawamba. It’s perfect. Me and Lola always have fun, so it’s totally fitting that our wedding would have something crazy like that happen.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the kooky priest says. “You may kiss—”
He doesn’t even finish the sentence before I take Lola’s head in my hands and bring my lips to hers. There’s a collective aw from the crowd as she wraps her arms around me and steps in closer. It’s a cute kiss, a sweet one. It’s not like that wild I’m-going-to-rip-your-fuckin’-clothes-off shit we do in the privacy of our own home. When I pull back, she’s looking up at me through those long eyelashes, and her smile is ginormous. I’m sure mine is equally huge. This is like some shit out of a movie with all our families clapping and her in her beautiful dress. I never thought something like this would ever happen in my life.
We eventually make our way to the larger ballroom for the reception. I can’t stop holding Lola’s hand, and our photographer dude is taking all kinds of candid pics that I’ll probably have as my desktop background for years. Lola always looks so gorgeous when she doesn’t think anyone is looking. That’s why I take a zillion covert phone pics of her all the time.
I didn’t even realize Lola’s dad was here until I spot him at a table off away from everyone else. My eyes were so glued to her during the ceremony that I couldn’t have told you a thing about anyone else in the room. I’m guessing she’s a little freaked out that he showed up, but she’s buzzing with happiness right now, so I think she plans to just pay no attention to him. I’m going to follow that same path, because I’ll be damned if I let that dude fuck this up for us.
I keep whispering sweet things to her as we sit down at the dais to eat. We’ve gone for a combo of Greek and Italian food, and we’re both enjoying veggie lasagna as we chit-chat with our parents and closest friends.
My dad’s on good behavior, but staying kind of quiet. Jonathan’s mellowed out a lot, and he keeps tipping his beer to me to acknowledge me whenever I look at him. I’m guessing he’s pretty fuckin’ grateful I agreed to bail him out, so he’ll be very well-behaved tonight. Both my mom and
Lola’s mom are talking up a storm and occasionally getting teary-eyed with each other, which we all expected. Chad and Alejandro are holding hands and enjoying the romantic vibe of the ceremony, and Stacey is all cozied up to Ethan, which makes Lola smile. I’m glad too, because, even though Ethan was my rival, he’s a good dude, and Stacey deserves that in her life.
We start with the toasts, and Keegan gets up first, making an awkward but funny speech about how I’m the only guy who deserves a girl like Lola, even though everyone wants her. She’s very amused by his ramblings and she even bites her lip a few times to keep from laughing too hard. Chad’s toast is next and he’s super charismatic, so he has everyone’s attention as he keeps it fun while weaving in a hint of big-brother-type pride. Jonathan’s speech is full of hyperbolic bullshit about how he’s proud of his little brother and how he’s always loved me. Lola raises her eyebrow to me a few times, but we both smile and nod through the whole thing.
My mom decides to make a toast too, but she keeps crying when she describes how happy she is for us, and half of it is unintelligible. My dad keeps translating for her, much to the amusement of everyone in the room.
Theresa takes the mic and tells a story about our elementary school’s Valentine’s Day party when Lola was in third grade. I remember it vividly. I kissed Lola’s cheek and gave her a little box of chocolates with a heartfelt note. She told me later that it meant the world to her. I guess only three boys gave her something and I was the only one who did something beyond those generic cards that come with the candy. Theresa gets a little emotional when she describes what Lola told her about it. She said, “James is the only boy who always makes me happy because he’s the only one who’s always nice to me.” Of course, it was because I was in love with her, but I just hadn’t realized it yet.
“And I’m so proud of you both,” Theresa concludes her toast and everyone starts clapping.
My mom’s looking on with tears in her eyes and a big smile, which makes me feel like a million bucks. Everyone’s proud of us. All of these people know me, know how much I love Lola, and nobody’s dwelling on my career or my rather infamous reputation as a player. They’re judging me on only one factor: how much I love Lola. And that’s a test I know I can pass with flying colors.
Vice, Virtue & Video: Devoted Page 21