My eyes snap open. “We’re getting married?”
“Yeah, wherever you want. We’ll need to plan it around my schedule, but you decide if we keep it small family and friends only or do the big party. Whatever you prefer.”
I groan again, but this time from discomfort. “Neither.” I’ve been knee deep in big wedding plans and I have no desire to ever go through it again.
“You don’t want the white dress and flowers. A whole day devoted to you? I thought it’s what every woman dreamed of.” He brushes back a few strands of my hair running his fingers through them.
How do I get around this without mentioning the ex-fiancé to the guy I’m currently lying in bed naked with? “I am never doing the big wedding thing.” I leave off the "again” but it lingers in the air around us.
“Well what do you want?”
“If I ever get married,” I put a heavy emphasis on the “if” part of my statement, “it doesn’t need to be fancy. Vegas, a white dress, maybe Elvis.”
“Elvis?” he questions, nudging my side with the hand on my hip.
“Well yeah, it’s Vegas. You have to have Elvis.” I push my butt back against him in retaliation.
He squeezes my hip. “Okay, I can handle that. Marry me and I’ll take you to Vegas.”
I laugh at my joke and his quick acceptance. Like Ryland and I are really getting married in Vegas.
“I’m serious. Marry me, Marissa.”
Silence permeates the room and my bravado starts to fade. Now I’m freaked out. I roll to my back and stare at him speechless. When his expression doesn’t change and he doesn’t start laughing with me at the ridiculousness of the situation, I freak out more. “Ryland. You can’t ask me to marry you in bed… after sex!"
“Why the hell not?” He pulls his head back a fraction and for a second I worry there’s hurt in his eyes, but he’s quick to cover it up with a small grin.
My brain races and I switch between thinking he’s crazy to the radical opposite — wishing his words were true. “Anything said before, during, or after sex doesn't count.” How does he not know this rule already?
Silence stretches between us until Ryland leans up and steps out of the bed in one fluid motion. I tense, worried I’ve upset him and now he’s going to leave. Not just the room, but eventually the country. I sit up and reach a hand out to stop him, but he does it on his own. Standing next to the bed, he gets down on one knee his hands searching mine out until they rest in his.
“Okay, I’m out of bed. Now, Marissa Melrose, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” My mouth falls open and I rip a hand away from his to wrap myself up in the blankets. It doesn’t feel like a time I should be naked. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you feel the same way, it’s an easy answer."
Easy answer? It’s the hardest question any woman answers. “Ryland, you can’t ask me to marry you while you’re naked.” I’m full of panic and it shows in my words.
Ryland’s not joking around. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t playing the first time either. I’m not ready to accept any of this yet. “Watch out, Ryland, I’ll call your bluff and make you marry me in a little white Vegas chapel with Elvis as the pastor.” I try to make light of the situation while I work through the unexpected emotions he’s put on me.
He lets go of my hands and stands up reaching for his pair of black boxers beside the bed. “Okay. I’ll be right back. Why don’t you order breakfast?"
“I could cook eggs?” I ask like me burning food can take away the awkwardness from the last few minutes.
He turns back before walking out the bedroom door. “Whatever you want, Marissa.” And then he’s gone, my main door closing behind him, but not with the loud bang I braced for.
I flop down to the mattress holding back the tears threatening to gush out. I refuse to cry like an emotional woman who can’t make up her mind. Even if it’s exactly what I am right now. Why can’t I say yes? I thumb my head with the back of my hand wishing I were someone else who hand the balls to back up my thoughts about jumping in. Maybe I should order us breakfast burritos and give myself a reminder.
**
The egg in the center of my pan begins to sizzle more than it probably should, and I reach across the stove to decrease the heat. Of the three eggs I’ve cooked this morning, all three have broken yolks, but I’m hopeful this next one will make it. Ryland likes his whites cooked and his middles runny. It’s an impossible combination to finagle when you possess no real cooking skills.
It’s been almost thirty minutes and he still isn’t back like promised, but I refuse to freak out and walk over to his place to figure out why not. At least not until I cook one decent egg.
Toast pops up from the toaster and I reach to a top cupboard to grab plates. The main door opens behind me and I turn almost dropping the short stack of china.
“What the hell, Ryland?”
He stops at the entrance to the kitchen area with a grin taking up half his face. His expression isn’t what freaked me out. It’s the black tux he’s wearing. The jacket is open revealing he’s even gone as far as to put on the little black piece of fabric that wraps around his flat stomach. A red bow tie around his neck stands out against the stark white shirt underneath it. For a man who doesn’t like to dress up, he certainly does it well.
Ryland’s watches as I check him out. He takes slow steps into the kitchen until he’s beside me. He takes the plates from my hand and places them on the counter, and then he moves the pan off the stove burner.
“What?” he asks and then settles on the floor back on one knee taking my shaking hands in his for a second time this morning. “It's no longer after sex. I’m not naked… and look, I even have a ring.” He keeps both my hands firmly in one of his and reaches the other into a pocket.
When he pulls it out again, there’s a small black box in the palm of his large hand. Using a thumb and another finger, he pushes open the top to reveal the largest fucking diamond ring I’ve ever seen. One abnormally large rectangular shaped diamond sits on a simple gold band nestled in the black velvet of the box. My knowledge of diamonds is lacking, but it must be at least five carats.
Ryland moves the box closer as though he thinks I can’t see the huge rock in the short distance. When the hell did he find time to buy a ring? Surely even he can’t change into a tux and buy a ring this large in thirty minutes on a Saturday morning.
“Let me try this part again too.” He takes a deep breath and I freeze. “Marissa Melrose, you’ve changed my life and given me someone to love. I came to San Francisco pissed off at the world for the hand she’d given me. Then you walked into my life and I realized she sent me here to meet you. I tried to be angry, but every day you walked out of my elevator and I forgot why I thought my cards were bad.
“I’ve tried hobby after hobby to discover who I am beyond the soccer player persona I’m known for. I can’t paint, cook, or even kayak well, but it doesn’t matter because I’ve learned the one thing I do exceptionally well is love you.”
“Ryland,” I interrupt to warn him he’s about to make me cry.
“Shhh. I have more to say.” He shuffles on his knees to reposition, but I yank on his hands to pull him up.
I throw myself at him wrapping my arms around his midsection until he’s backed up against the refrigerator. “I don’t need to hear anymore."
“Is that a yes?”
I laugh but understand why he might need extra reassurance. “It’s absolutely a yes.”
Ryland sweeps me up with an arm under my knees and one on my back as I kick my feet and yell for him to put me down. He deposits me on the couch and sits, the ring box falling between us.
“Try it on,” he coaxes moving the box closer. I reach out with a tentative hand but pull back, scared to touch it. “It won't bite, Marissa.”
He takes the ring from the box and slips it on my ring finger. “It fits?” I put the words as a question unsure where his knowledge of my ring size cam
e from.
“Aspen.”
“Aspen?” I’m shocked although her comments the last few times I’ve seen her make more sense now.
“I bought the ring a while ago, but Aspen told me the size.”
I stare down at the ring, twisting my hand as the diamond catches the early morning light from the large window in the living room. “You want me to walk around with like ten thousand dollars on my finger?” Can I superglue it on? Otherwise I'll have to keep it in my pocket to deal with the fear of losing it.
His expression changes, becoming sheepish, and he mumbles under his breath, “Yeah, ten thousand.”
My mouth hangs open. How many dollars are resting on my finger? I’m going to need to buy lots of superglue. “Wait, you bought the ring a while ago? When?” I rip my attention from the ring to study him again.
With eyes cast to the ceiling, he teases his lips back and forth stalling his answer. “A few weeks after you hurt your ankle.”
“What?”
He puts a hand over mine, the metal cutting into the sensitive part of my skin. “You’ve said yes. You can’t take it back."
“Just tell me, Ryland.”
It’s a nervous laugh and he does the thing with his hand over his hair again, so my tummy clenches. He’s worried I’m not going to like his answer. "The day I went with Finn and Trey out of town. On our walk back to the car, we passed a jewelry store. It was in the window and a part of me forced me to stop and look. In that moment I knew, in my gut, sooner or later you’d be mine. I wanted to be prepared and I knew I’d need this ring. Guess I was right.”
“They had this in the shop window?” I pick my hand up holding the ring out in front of him.
“Well… no. They had one similar to it and I went in asking for something bigger. Back then I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but I wanted you to have the best.”
“I can’t believe Aspen kept this from me.” She’s horrible at secrets.
“Aspen’s not important. We need to decide if we’re packing before or after the post proposal sex.”
“What?” Why do I feel two steps behind this whole conversation?
“There’s a flight to Vegas at five, so we’ll have to pack and get to the airport by three.”
“The airport?” I question.
“Yeah I bought tickets while I changed.”
“You were quite sure of yourself, huh?”
“When I see something I want, I go for it. Whatever it takes. I told you in order to win you over, a guy needed to prove himself. I did that. You said yes. I win.”
“I can’t get married in Vegas today.” I stand in front of the couch thinking of the clothes a girl needs for a wedding. Even a small one in a Vegas chapel.
He stands with me. “Of course not. We’ll fly in today, but the wedding won’t happen until tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? I need to call Aspen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I didn’t call Aspen.
The short train of my bright white wedding dress catches on a door hinge and I freeze, scared if I move I might rip it. I should have called Aspen. How can I get married without my friends and family?
“Hang on, sweetie. I’ve got it for you.” A sandy blonde haired woman with the sweetest southern accent and big dark blue eyes reaches down and repositions the dress until I'm free to move through the door.
I walk through to the main dressing room where brides get ready in A Garden of Eden Wedding Chapel. The trip here turned out more difficult than Ryland and I thought, but we’re minutes away from our wedding. Well, I’m here. Ryland better be on his way here.
“Thank you.” I turn to her sticking a hand out and grin when it only shakes a little. “I’m Marissa.”
“Rhea Lynn.” She reaches out shaking my hand and fixes a strap on her light green dress with large purple roses in the pattern. “Where you all from?"
The bell over the door dings and I look around her hoping for Ryland, but it’s another tall dark-haired guy. “San Francisco. You?”
She answers and I half listen as Rhea Lynn fills me in on her life in Arkansas and her visit to Vegas for her sister’s quickie wedding to a man she met thirty days ago. The mindless chatter between us helps my nerves and almost makes me forget my fiancé’s missing. Almost.
The door opens again, and this time when I lean to the side to check, I’m met with Ryland’s suit covered chest. He walks to where we wait and opens his outstretched hand. Two simple wedding bands rest in his palm.
“Oh bless his heart. He made it in time.” Rhea Lynn pats me on the back as I release the breath I’d been holding since he dropped me off at the front entrance to get ready.
Ryland looks to me over my new friend. “Ryland, this is Rhea Lynn. She’s from Texarkana, Arkansas.” His eyes slide away from Rhea Lynn and I nod my head slightly twice to confirm it’s a real place. “She and her husband volunteered to be our witnesses.”
“Okay.” He still looks confused and I realize he hasn’t been here for the latest drama.
“The witness the chapel provides went into labor, don’t ask, and Rhea Lynn volunteered.” I try to sum up the events of the last thirty minutes as quickly as possible. We have a wedding to get to. Ours.
“Oh, well thank you.” He reaches out and shakes her hand.
Rhea Lynn’s eyes fall to Ryland’s chest and linger a little longer than I’d like, but I suppose I’ll get used to marrying a guy people ogle.
“You’ll do just fine. Good luck, Marissa.” Rhea Lynn smooths out a section of my dress at my hip. “We’ll be in the chapel.”
When the room is empty except for the two of us, I turn to Ryland and place myself as close to him as possible without ruffling my dress or hair. In the quiet, Ryland’s eyes abruptly widen and he spins me around, his hand running down the pearl buttons on the back of my dress. “This is not the easy access I requested for any and all dresses.”
“But, Ryland, look.” I clutch fabric toward the bottom of the dress where the tight mermaid lace material begins to fan out and spin. “Isn't it gorgeous?” The shorter train trails behind me wrapping around my shoes.
“I’d marry you in a paper bag, Kitten.” One of his long arms wraps around me and Ryland leans down giving me a small bite between my neck and shoulder until I quiver.
“Well thankfully it isn’t necessary today.” I drop the dress to lean into him further. “Do you think it’s a sign?”
“A sign?” he asks.
I step back in agitation. “Yes, a sign we shouldn’t get married here. Everything has gone wrong. The dress, the rings, my hair, the witness, what else could happen?”
“Nothing else will happen because today’s almost over.” He checks his watch in a big showy fashion. “In about five minutes to be exact. Then you’ll become Mrs. Bates.”
I groan and try to move back again, but he won’t let me go.
“And you’re looking at it wrong, Marissa. Everything turned out fine. You’re here in the dress, your hair looks amazing, and we have rings. In the end it worked out the way it should have. Just like us.”
He makes good points, but I’m not ready to move past my freak out yet. Why isn’t he getting cold feet? Oh, right because he didn’t watch a woman's water break in the middle of the chapel waiting room as she screamed out in pain. I’ll get married, but I am never having kids.
He checks his watch again. “It’s almost midnight. Let’s go.” He's so sure of himself, me, and us.
“We’re ready for the next couple.” A short woman in a light brown pant suit steps out of the altar room. She looks down to her clipboard. "Ryland Bates and Marissa Melrose.”
Ryland’s hand shoots up like he’s in elementary school again ready to answer the most important question of his life. “Here!"
He pulls me forward and I suddenly regret the tall ass red heels I picked out while channeling Aspen’s gold pumps. They might make me taller, but I’m not used to walking around this high up.
We stop
in front of the employee and I chuckle at how Ryland towers over the short woman. Glad to know it’s not just me he looks like a giant next to.
“Great, I’ll start the music and you two go right in.” She clicks a button on a small remote and pulls open one of the large double doors for us.
The iconic “Here Comes the Bride” song plays in the speakers overhead and I quickly scan the crowd rather than look down to make sure I don’t trip. I count on Ryland to make sure I get to the end without falling on my ass.
The room is empty of people besides Rhea Lynn and her dark haired husband, Jimmy, who occupy the front row. Both stand as we walk down the aisle where the officiant waits for us at the end. He’s not dressed as Elvis, but I’ve been promised an Elvis serenade later. Apparently it's harder than it should be to get an actual Elvis to marry you in this town.
It’s a small room with only ten dark wooden pews between the door and the altar at the end, but it takes us forever to get there. White roses line each pew ending to sweep down the walk way. Large planters and vases placed throughout the room hold more white flowers of various types. I passed on the optional bouquet when we picked out our wedding package, but now I wish I had flowers to hold on to. Hopefully Ryland won’t let go at any point.
When we run out of aisle, we stop, the officiant in long white robes on a short raised platform in front of us. He waits for Rhea Lynn and Jimmy to sit and then clears his throat grabbing Ryland and I by a shoulder each and moving us until we’re facing one another.
He opens his Bible to a small page where a piece of paper sticks out. “Ryland and Marissa have asked me to keep it short and simple tonight. On the dawning of this new day, they set out to begin a new life with one another.”
Words continue to be spoken but only small snippets here and there make it to my ears. With Ryland in front of me, the room falls away until we’re alone. His sapphire eyes meet mine, and every worry I had before disappears. This is where I’m meant to be.
There’s no way to know what he’s thinking, but his slight grin becomes a smile as his lips turn up more. The small freckle under his left eye rises with his cheeks and I wish I could reach out and touch it.
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