Just Let Me Love You (10 page)

And then I am showering Chase in a flurry of kisses. My joy is uncontained, and I’m bursting with emotion. I could lie here forever with my man. But we must make ourselves get out of bed, especially when Chase informs me, “The Clark County Marriage License Bureau is only open till midnight.”

“Better hurry, then,” I say as I playfully jump up and scamper to the bathroom. Chase catches up to me. He lifts me into his arms and carries me the rest of the way.

Minutes later, we are showering together. Chase tenderly washes my body, but when his fingers linger a bit too long at my softest spots, I remind him, “We have a wedding to attend, right?”

“We sure do,” he replies, smiling brightly.

Luckily, Chase packed a suit—black—for the possibility he’d have to wear it for something out here in Las Vegas. He tells me, “I originally thought Mom and Greg would plan some fancy dinner out on the town.”

He leans down to kiss me while I finish with my makeup in front of the dresser mirror. “But this is a much better reason to get dressed up.”

“For sure,” I reply, giggling as Chase plants tiny kisses down my neck, his gentle nips tickling at my tender skin.

“Okay, back to getting ready,” he announces as her steps away from the dresser.

But still, he remains close, watching me as he fiddles with a set of cufflinks. When I glance up at him in the reflection of the mirror, I can’t believe how incredibly handsome he is dressed in a suit and tie.

Reluctantly, I turn away so I can slip a white eyelet lace dress over my head.

I think of how much Chase loves the dress I’ve chosen to wear. It is the same dress I had on the day he stole my hair tie, the tie he placed back in my hair so gently that day.

There are no hair ties going in my hair tonight, but Chase does insist on brushing out my chestnut mane. Careful, so carefully, his brush strokes feel divine. Tonight, Chase touches me like I might break.

“I can’t believe you really want to become my wife,” he whispers, leaning into me, his chest pressing to my back.

I slowly turn to face him, and lower his hand with the brush to his side.

“I want to marry you, Chase. More than you can imagine. In fact, there’s nothing more I’d rather do.”

He smiles and touches my face. With everything I am feeling in this moment, I begin to slowly recite lines I memorized long ago, lines I promised myself I’d know by heart for the day I wedded the love of my life.

And today is that day.

“I, Kay Stanton,” I softly murmur, “…take you, Chase Gartner, to be my lawful wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse…”

Chase picks up where I leave off. “… For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish…”

Together we say, “From this day forward, until death do us part.”

Two hours later, we are reciting the exact same vows once more.

Only this time it’s for real.

Chase and I have opted for a ceremony at a chapel in one of the nicer Vegas hotels. We even stopped by a twenty-four hour jewelry store in the arcade shops beforehand so we could purchase two simple gold bands.

And now we are here, doing this, getting married in a quaint little wedding chapel. We are surrounded by mountains of flowers left over from a previous ceremony. It’s so pretty in here. Amethyst-toned stained glass windows sparkle and reflect the glow of all the lit candles in the small room. And though there are few people in the pews—just the two hotel employees bearing witness—this feels right.

Chase and I have been on our own for a long time now.

Sure, we’re healing old wounds and reconnecting with family, but when you get right down to it, Chase and I only really have one another to rely on.

So, yes, we’ll have a church wedding when we return home, but that one will be for everyone else.

This one—today, now—this one is for us.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant announces.

And then it’s done.

“We’re married,” I say to Chase.

“Yes, we’re married, sweet girl,” he whispers as his lips brush over mine.

We hear, “You may kiss the bride,” and we kiss…and kiss…and kiss.

After the ceremony, we stop by the hotel casino to celebrate. We play some slots, and I win a little money, which is helpful since we just blew a bunch on the rings and ceremony.

On the way home, Chase stops by an all-night liquor store and buys a bottle of good champagne. And back at the house, the fates smile down on us, allowing us to find a single wedge of brie in the refrigerator.

“It’s a sign,” I say to Chase.

He slips the package of soft cheese from my grasp and places it on the counter. “I think you may be right,” he says.

And then, when he begins to search the cabinets for something to spread the brie on, he distractedly adds, “Though I wonder what kind of sign it could be. A sign that the fates sensed we were hungry? A sign my mom likes the same cheese as us?”

He’s totally messing with me, so I smack his arm. “It’s a sign tonight was meant to be, silly man.”

“I know,” he laughs.

In a much more serious tone, I add, “We did the right thing by getting married tonight, Chase.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he replies.

Finding a package of crackers, at last, he sets them aside.

Turning fully to me, he tells me, “This is one of the best days of my life.”

My eyes tear up as I reply, “Me, too.”

And then, out of curiosity, I ask, “What are the others?”

“Best days of my life?”

“Yes.”

Touching my cheek, he says, “I could list them, but let’s just say every single one involves you, Kay.”

“Chase…”

Before things turn too emotional in the middle of the kitchen, Chase grabs the crackers, cheese, and champagne and says, “How about we go upstairs and make this one of the best
nights
of our lives, my lovely wife?”

His blues dance mischievously, and I know we won’t be eating brie spread on crackers—nor drinking champagne—for very long.

I sweep my hand out in front of me and say, “Lead the way, dear husband.”

Chase

K
ay and I make our first decision as man and wife the next morning. After sleeping in—and making love for the umpteenth time—we decide to keep our marriage a secret, for now. After we tuck our rings in our suitcases, we shower and get ready for the day ahead.

When we finally venture downstairs, we find my mother in the kitchen, where she eyes us curiously.

“Hmm,” she says after a beat. “You two sure were sleepyheads. It’s nearly noon.”

I roll my eyes and grab a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator. “Yep, we were tired,” I mutter.

Mom’s not done yet, though. She rests her hip against the granite-top island in the center of the room, and says, “I imagine so, seeing you two were out so late last night.”

I know Mom didn’t hear us leave the house or return, as we were extra quiet.

Seeing my confused expression, she says, “I noticed the rental car was moved.”

“Aah,” I remark.

Mom’s still not satisfied. Tapping one manicured fingernail on the counter, she says, “I also noticed my brie is missing from the refrigerator. And two champagne flutes are gone from the china closet.” She raises an eyebrow. “Were we perhaps celebrating something?”

Mom would flip if she knew Kay and I got married last night. Kay suspects my mom will have this reaction, as well, so the poor girl quickly hides her sure-to-give-us-away expression by raising her glass of juice to her mouth.

“Sweet girl,” I mutter, chuckling. “Don’t worry. I got this.”

Turning to my mother, I say, “Kay and I were just having a little bubbly and some cheese to celebrate this being her first time in Las Vegas.”

“Oh, really?” Mom replies, skepticism coloring her tone.

“Yes, really,” I retort dryly.

I have no intention of divulging that Kay and I got married last night. Abby is going to have a coronary as it is when she discovers we did things the way we did. She’s all about big weddings and lots of fanfare. But really, our way was the best for us. This love I share with Kay is so personal that I don’t really care to have a crowd of people there to witness all our raw emotions.

Of course, I’ll have to get over that issue before the church wedding. Hopefully, I can delay that event for as long as possible.

Just then—and fortuitously saving all of us from any further discussion about last night—Will waltzes in.

“Hey, guys,” he says nonchalantly as he grabs the OJ. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” Mom replies. “How was your time at Cassie’s?”

Before Will can answer, I cough. “I bet you two crazy kids had
lots
of fun.”

My tone is full of suggestion, and Will shoots me a did-you-have-to-go-there look.

“Dude,” he says.

I’m not trying to be a dick to my brother, so I throw him an apologetic smile. My intent is for my mother to stop treating him like he’s ten years old. Mom also catches sight of my gaze, and her eyes grow soft and wounded.

Shit, she wants me to give her a chance to do the right thing.
Okay, okay
, I think as I give her a look that conveys I’m about to back off.

With the momentary rough spot behind us, Mom directs her attention to Kay. “Honey,” she says to my girl, “would you like to come to lunch with me tomorrow afternoon? It would give us some time to talk, and I was just telling Chase that I think we should get to know each other better.”

“Uhh…” Kay looks to me for guidance, but I just shrug. This decision is totally up to her.

When Kay sees I don’t care either way, she tells my mom, “Yeah, okay. Sounds like fun.”

Turning to me, Will interjects, “Hey, Chase, since Kay will be out with Mom, do you want to do something tomorrow, just us?”

I wait for Mom to chime in with, “Oh, aren’t you going to include Greg,” but then I am informed that Greg is leaving late tonight for a three-week business trip in Phoenix.

Sigh of relief
. Hate to say it, but I’m kind of glad he won’t be around the house. Greg is a nice enough guy, sure, but he’s too hands-off in the parenting department.

“I’m sure we’ll find something fun to do,” I say to Will, and then, because I know it gets him all worked up, I reach over and ruffle his dark-blond hair.

Will swats me away. “God, you are such a freak,” he mutters.

But really, he likes the big-brother attention.

The remainder of Sunday is uneventful; we all just laze around the house. In the evening, Mom announces she wants us all to watch a movie in the family room.

“Before Greg has to leave,” she says, eyeing me with hope in her gaze.

Sorry, Mom
, I think before I decline the invitation. Movie nights used to be a big thing for me, my mom, and my dad, but that was like a fucking thousand years ago. Greg is not Dad, and I won’t pretend he is.

Mom is disappointed, but she gets over it quickly enough. Especially when Sunday rolls into Monday and noontime arrives. It’s lunchtime for the girls, and let’s just say Mom is chomping at the bit to get rolling.

“Kay, are you ready?” she calls out loudly from the hallway as she’s knocking on our closed bedroom door.

I roll my eyes and try to catch Kay’s gaze from where I’m seated, leaned back against the headboard. My wife, though, is too busy in front of the mirror, adjusting her cute, floral strapless dress. She pays me no heed.

Hmm, I know what will get her attention
…

“Good thing I don’t have you bent over that dresser,” I say in a low, suggestive tone.

“Chase!” Kay motions to the closed door. “Hush, before your mom hears you.”

“Like I care,” I scoff.

Mom knocks again, and this time Kay steps away from the dresser and opens the door.

“I’m ready,” she announces brightly to Mom, who peeks in nosily.

I give my mother a wave from my spot on the bed. Thank God Kay and I actually decided to make the bed earlier. It was a wreck from a torrid morning, and I wouldn’t have wanted the sight to scar Mom for life.

“Will is waiting downstairs for you,” my mother reminds me. “He wants to know what you have planned for the two of you this afternoon.”

Translation: Mom wants to know.

“Yeah, okay. He’ll find out soon enough.” I reply, giving away no details of my plans with Will.

I actually do have a plan—I’m taking Will out on the motorcycle. I plan to head to the desert this afternoon, the more desolate parts. I’m going to do what my dad did for me, teach my brother how to drive the old Indian. It’s not completely legal since Will has no driver’s permit, but it’s how Dad taught me. Besides, I did a little research and found that Will can apply for a learner’s permit at fifteen and a half, which, for him, is just a couple months away.

And, to be honest, I’d rather teach Will than have someone like Greg try to do it.

Blood is thicker than water, and all that jazz.

Kay gets Mom moving, giving me a little good-bye wave when they are halfway out the door. I’m not having any of that crap, though. I stand and go to Kay, where I wrap my arms around her and kiss her good and properly.