“Why, do you think Axl might be trying to take advantage of Leighton?”
If this were a real marriage, Axl would sign a prenuptial agreement. But it wasn’t, so it hadn’t entered his head. They had some guy Leighton had hired marrying them without actually getting a marriage license. Nothing would be legal. “Mom, it’s fine. I don’t think they were suggesting that at all.”
“No, no, of course not,” Dieter said. “It’s for both of them. It’s standard. You wouldn’t want Leighton to inherit your property if something happened, would you? Contracts just take out the negative emotion and allow the room for all the joy, yes?”
Amazingly, it placated his mother. “I suppose,” she said reluctantly.
“I can sign whatever you want,” Axl told Leighton.
Her lips were pursed. “I think we should talk about this later.”
“How much later?” Axl’s father asked. “The wedding is in two days.”
Yes. It was.
It scared the absolute shit out of him because something was not right in his head. He wanted to spend more time with Leighton. No, he absolutely did not want to get married for real. But he wouldn’t mind seeing her still after all of this and seeing if maybe, just maybe it could go somewhere. A real relationship. Which was impossible.
He stood up abruptly.
“What are you doing?” his mother asked, looking mortified at his complete lack of manners.
“I need a drink.”
* * *
Leighton watched Axl disappear into the family room where the Moores had a bar. She gave a weak smile to everyone around the table and shrugged. Her palms felt damp and she ran them down the front of her floral dress.
It was making her uncomfortable that everyone seemed to be getting along. While the thought of animosity had been scary, it wouldn’t have felt so intimate then. This felt far too close to real to be anything other than horrifying.
Axl seemed to be having the same response since he was headed straight for the booze. She’d only known him six days but he didn’t seem to be much of a drinker. He’d said so himself and his lack of home liquor led her to believe that was true. His parents had a full bar, though, and she heard bottles clinking around as if he were searching for something.
“I think this is all a little overwhelming,” she said weakly.
“Well, that’s what happens when you rush these things,” Hillary said. It was evident she thought they both deserved some stress for being so impulsive.
“Oh, pooh,” her own mother said. “Marriage is always going to be overwhelming. Sometimes you just have to dive in.”
“You know what they say. The secret to a successful marriage is still a secret,” her father said.
“Dad!” Leighton almost laughed. “That’s not advice. That’s like a George Burns punch line.”
Axl came back to the table with something that looked like bourbon. Poured very high in the glass.
Her father shrugged. “Just respect your marriage, you two, and everything will be fine.”
That was about as unsettling as Winnie’s words that Leighton was stealing her day.
They weren’t respecting anything.
She swallowed hard. Marriage wasn’t a TV show. Marriage wasn’t something to be flippant about. Marriage was Soon-ja leaving her family and her home behind because of love. Marriage was her own father willing to accept digs about their age difference because he loved his wife. Marriage was Axl’s mother and father raising three kids and still enjoying each other’s company after a crazy night at a Guns N’ Roses concert.
She wanted that. All of that. She wanted a man to look at her for years and years with love still shining in his eyes. She wanted a man who would defend her when her mother took a dig at her weight and who made her feel beautiful, just the way she was.
And she wanted it with Axl.
It was happening. She could feel it. Her throat was closing up and her heart started to race.
No one seemed to notice so she concentrated on breathing through her nose. God, she hated this. It made her feel so weak to not be able to control her anxiety. Everyone always just thought she was overreacting or that she could control it. But it was physical, an actual wave of predictable symptoms that crashed over her until she felt like she was having a heart attack or that she couldn’t breathe. Even when she knew intellectually she wasn’t going to die, it really, in those moments, felt like it.
But then there was Axl, his hand on her leg, squeezing. His voice murmuring in her ear, “It’s okay. You’re okay.” His hand, lifting his glass to her lips and encouraging her to take a sip.
Her vision had blurred but with his help and repeated soft words, he returned her to clarity. She could hear her mother saying, “Oh, shit, she’s doing it again, Dieter. Do something.”
“What’s going on?” Hillary asked.
Leighton was mortified. She was too embarrassed to look at Axl’s parents so she focused on him. He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs massaging over her skin. “That’s good. You’re fine.”
She didn’t say anything. She could only imagine what people living in Northern Minnesota would think of her anxiety. Axl’s parents seemed very salt-of-the-earth and when she shot a quick glance over at them, they looked horrified.
“Are you having a seizure?” Hillary asked.
“Panic attack,” her own mother said. “She gets those a lot.”
“Oh, dear. That’s unfortunate.”
Which to Leighton’s ears might as well have been “so the bitch is broken.” She had no clue what Hillary or Rob were actually thinking but it felt like something to be ashamed of because she had always despised her anxiety.
“It doesn’t happen a lot anymore,” she said, feeling defensive.
And as grateful as she was for Axl’s support, she saw in his eyes that he didn’t agree with her assessment that it didn’t happen frequently. He was right. She’d done this three times since she’d met him.
“It doesn’t matter if it does or it doesn’t. What matters is that you’re okay.” He kissed her forehead and dropped his arms back down.
“Oh, my goodness, you have such a good touch with her,” her mother said. “They usually last longer than that.”
They did. But Axl was a big, strong, calming force for her. An anchor.
Axl gave her a smile that made her toes curl. “Leighton has a good touch with me, too.”
She sighed, loving how he always made her feel like his equal. Like she had something to contribute. Without even thinking about it, she reached for his hand and laced her fingers through his.
“Well. Who wants coffee and dessert?” Hillary said, swiftly, like it was important to move on. Or maybe because their intimacy was upsetting to her.
Leighton wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse.
“You should see Leighton’s dress,” her mother said cheerfully. “It will knock your socks off, Axl!”
Leighton had seen it and was pleasantly surprised that her mother had chosen a dress that reflected her personality. It was certainly blingy, but not outrageous the way she had been expecting. It was mermaid style, which was what she would have chosen for herself. She had felt good in it when she had tried it on and it only needed minor modifications. The veil hadn’t arrived yet but was due in tomorrow. It made her feel like maybe her mother did understand her, and did respect who she was as a person.
“Is it low cut?” Axl asked. “That’s all I care about.”
His mother reached across the table and slapped his arm. “Knock it off. This is your future mother-in-law. Show some respect.”
“It is low cut!” her mother said, not sounding the least bit offended.
Leighton reached out for Axl’s glass and took a giant sip, fighting back the urge to choke.
It settled on her hard and fast that this wasn’t worth her job. This was torture. Glorious, delicious, horrible torture. It was like having everything you’d ever wanted knowing it was all go
ing away in a matter of days. It felt real, but it was fake. It was an emotional tornado and Axl sat there though it, the eye. Calm. Unperturbed, while she was spinning around unable to grab onto anything but him.
She didn’t want to say it was a mistake, but God, she had enjoyed being with Axl so much. But she didn’t like the lie.
“I can’t wait to see her,” Axl said.
It was like being on a reality TV show where everyone else had a script but her.
Axl was doing this to save his ass. She needed to remember that.
She may be falling in love, but he wasn’t.
Oh, God, she was falling in love.
Damn it.
She took another sip and prayed she would not make an ass out of herself by telling him how she felt. Because he wasn’t going to fall in love with her even if she had all the wedding lingerie in the state of Minnesota.
Twelve
“I can’t believe you want to play poker for your bachelor party,” Sullivan complained. “I wanted to go to the strip club.”
“It’s not a real bachelor party,” he reminded him. They were in the back room at Tap That. Sullivan’s dad and two young bartenders in their twenties were running the bar.
“So, I came here from Chicago for a fake wedding. Fantastic,” Brandon said, shaking his head.
“I told you that you didn’t have to come. I was honest about what’s going on here.”
“No one else knows it’s fake. So if I don’t show it would make me look like the shittiest friend ever. People would be like that fucking guy can’t even make his best friend’s wedding. What a dick.”
“You are a dick.”
Brandon threw his cards down. “I’m out. For the record, you owe me a plane ticket. I was just here last weekend.”
“You make like five times what I do. Fuck off.” Regardless of the reason, he was glad to see Brandon twice in a short period of time. He was also glad to see he had a full house in his hand. He slid a twenty in the center of the table.
“Ten times, more likely,” Brandon said, with a grin.
“It doesn’t matter if this is real or not,” Sullivan insisted. “It’s a perfect excuse to go to the strip club and no one can give us crap for it.”
Rick tossed a handful of chips in his mouth. “I don’t want to go to the strip club. There’s only one woman I want to see naked and that’s Sloane.”
“Yeah, my sister, you asshole. Thanks for that visual.”
“Your sister is hot. Get over it.”
Sullivan sipped his whiskey. “Me: Don’t have sex with my sister. Rick: whips his dick out and falls on her five minutes later.”
“That’s a lie. It was her idea that first night, if you want the truth.”
Sullivan grimaced. “No, I don’t want the truth. I want nothing to do with your sex life with my sister.”
“Can we all talk about my sex life?” Jesse asked. “Because it’s fucking awesome.”
That made Axl laugh. “No. Let’s talk about the Vikings. I’d rather argue with you guys about football than women.”
Sloane popped her head into the back room. “Uh, guys, I need to talk to you.”
“Get out,” Sullivan said. “You’re not allowed in here.”
Sloane rolled her eyes at her brother. “Whatever, loser. My dad owns half this bar, you know. But anyway, there is kind of a commotion out here. Leighton and her friends have arrived.”
That made Axl look over at her in alarm. “So?” Leighton wasn’t a party girl. He didn’t think. She hadn’t mentioned she’d be coming to Tap That but it wasn’t surprising. It was the largest pub in town.
“There are a bunch of guys hitting on her friends. And maybe her.”
“Are her friends hot?” Jesse asked.
“I don’t know. I guess.” Sloane shrugged. “But Leighton looks uncomfortable so I thought Axl might want to know.”
Axl figured if Sloane thought it was worth mentioning than it wasn’t just some random guy offering to buy her a drink. He stood up. “Nobody look at my hand.”
What he saw when he went out into the bar had him grinning instead of concerned. Leighton was sitting at a table reading a book. She was sipping a glass of wine. As if she were at home in her apartment instead of in the midst of her bachelorette “party.” There was a group of people he didn’t recognize right behind her. The women were thin and tan and strangers to him, presumably her California friends. He recognized the men ogling them as locals.
Jackson, the cameraman, was sitting next to Leighton looking annoyed.
“Hey,” Axl said, coming up behind her and massaging her shoulders. “What are you doing here? And why are you reading a book in a bar.”
She looked up. “Hi. My friends wanted to see a local bar so I wanted to make them happy but I’m exhausted. Whenever I’m beat down I turn to Jane Austen. Comfort reads.”
He kept rubbing her shoulders. He didn’t doubt that she was exhausted. She had been going nonstop for six days. “You know what I want?” he murmured, bending over to speak straight into her ear.
“What?”
“I want to throw you over my shoulder, take you home, and spend the night in bed.” He liked his friends but he saw them all the time. And they didn’t have bodies like Leighton.
She shook her head. “That’s not going to happen, though I doubt I would have the energy for it anyway. I have about two minutes before they realize I’m not doing a shot and come over to drag me to the bar. Oh, and Jackson wants to do an interview.”
Axl eyed Jackson, who looked glum. “Do we really have to do an interview?” Axl asked him, giving him a stern look he hoped would intimidate him into backing down. Jackson didn’t look thrilled about any of this so maybe he could talk him out of it. “Leighton is tired.”
“We really should, unfortunately.” Jackson sipped a craft beer. “Can you believe it was just a week ago we were here for Winnie’s bachelorette party? It feels like I’ve been in this town a thousand years.”
Seven days. That was kind of crazy to think about. It felt both like he’d known Leighton for a while and yet like he’d blinked and this week had disappeared.
“I actually owe you, Jackson. If you hadn’t made that comment to Leighton about me we might not be standing here right now.”
“Fabulous.”
A guy who was in Leighton’s group of friends at the bar came over and slid into an empty chair, fanning himself. He was dressed in a button-up shirt. “Leighton, is this Officer Hottie?”
“Zach, this is Axl. Axl, my best friend, Zach.”
Axl stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
“My pleasure. I’ve heard so much about you.” He lifted his hands to indicate what Axl had to assume was dick size. “So much.”
That actually made him laugh.
“Oh, my God, stop! I did not.” Leighton put her book in her purse. “You just love to embarrass me, Zach.”
“It’s not really that hard to make you squirm.” He turned to Jackson. “And what’s your name? I would like to know since you’re my future ex-husband.”
Jackson looked like he would rather do thirty days in San Quentin. “I’m the cameraman for Wedding Crashers. That’s probably all you need to know.”
“Rude.” Zach took a sip of his drink and waved his hand to Axl. “Sit down. Join us. Though why are you crashing Leighton’s bachelorette party?”
“Technically, she crashed mine. My friends and I are playing poker in the back room.”
“Scandalous.”
“Not really.”
“Oh, that’s not a euphemism for something dirty?”
Axl laughed. “No. Not even close. We really are just playing poker.”
There was a high-pitched yell from the bar.
“My friends aren’t usually this loud,” Leighton said. “But I think the long flight and the fresh air have whipped them up.”
“You should introduce me. And I see my friend Jesse is already hitting on your fri
ends. Surprise, surprise.”
“My friend Sandra’s father owns a professional hockey team. They probably have a lot in common.” Leighton stood up, like she was resigned to all of this, but was not intending to enjoy it.
He met her three girlfriends in a blur of waves and greetings and “Oh, Leighton, he’s fucking hot!” while he tried to picture how Leighton fit into this particular group. She was definitely the quiet one. Though he wouldn’t call her shy, despite the fact she had said she was.
She was him in his friend group. They were both the hang-back-and-observe members of their respective crowds. Brandon had now joined Jesse and they were chatting up Sandra, Christina, and Jordan. “Should we do our interview now and get it over with?” he asked Leighton. “We’re not needed here.”
She shot him a rueful look. “Clearly.”
Jackson seemed to have warmed up to Zach. They were bent over talking. Despite the dirty look she got from Zach, Leighton interrupted.
“Jackson, let’s get this interview over with.”
“You’re kind of a bridezilla,” he told her. “You have been cranky this week.”
Leighton’s mouth dropped. “I have not. I’m just busy.”
“Let’s just do the filming,” Axl said to Jackson. “So you can go back to your hotel.”
And he could talk Leighton into going home with him.
“Fine. Let’s go outside. It’s too loud in here.”
They were standing in front of the bar under the flashing fluorescent Tap That sign. It made Axl grin. He didn’t think either Jackson or Leighton noticed so maybe he was just a fucking pervert but he thought it was hilarious. But him being a dirt bag was not what was needed for the damn show.
After Jackson got his camera up and ready he started to ask them questions. “Are you ready to get married?”
“Yes.” He knew he was supposed to elaborate on that but even if they really were getting married he wasn’t sure he would have anything else to say. That wasn’t his style.
“I’m sure something will go wrong tomorrow because it always does,” Leighton said, mostly looking at the sidewalk in front of the bar. “But we’ll just roll with it.”
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