A Beautiful Wedding

“Yeah.” I shook my head and closed my eyes for a second, and then looked at him. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll go downstairs, find something white, and then I’ll come back here and get ready. If I can’t find something here, I’ll go to Crystals. There are more shops there.”


Travis walked toward me, stopping just a few inches away. He watched me for several moments, long enough to make me squirm.

“Tell me,” he said softly. No matter how I tried to explain it away, he knew me well enough to know—poker face or not—that I was hiding something from him.

“I think what you’re reading is exhaustion. I haven’t slept in almost twenty-four hours.”

He sighed, kissed my forehead, and then went to the mini fridge. He bent over, and then turned, holding up two small cans of Red Bull. “Problem solved.”

“My fiancé is a genius.”

He handed me a can, and then took me into his arms. “I like that.”

“That I think you’re a genius?”

“Being your fiancé.”

“Yeah? Don’t get used to it. I’ll be calling you something different in three hours.”

“I’ll like the new name even better.”

I smiled, watching Travis open the bathroom door.

“While you find a dress, I’m going to take another shower, shave, and then try to find something to wear.”

“So you won’t be here when I get back?”

“Do you want me to be? It’s at the Graceland Chapel, right? I thought we’d just meet there.”

“It’ll be kind of cool to see each other at the chapel, just before, dressed and ready to walk down the aisle.”

“You’re going to walk around Vegas by yourself for three hours?”

“I grew up here, remember?”

Travis thought for a moment. “Isn’t Jesse still working as a pit boss?”

I lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him. But even if he was, the only casino I’ll be anywhere near is the Bellagio’s, and that’s just long enough for me to walk through to our room.”

Travis seemed satisfied with that, and then nodded. “Meet you there.” He winked at me, and then shut the bathroom door.

I grabbed my purse off the bed and the room keycard, and, after glancing at the bathroom door, picked up Travis’s cell phone off the nightstand.

Opening his contacts, I pressed on the name I needed, sent the contact information to my phone via text, and then deleted the text message the second it went through. When I set his phone down, the bathroom door opened, and Travis appeared in just a towel.

“Marriage license?” he asked.

“The chapel will take care of it for an extra fee.”

Travis nodded, seeming relieved, and then shut the door again.

I yanked the room door open and made my way to the elevator, inputting and then calling the new number.

“Please pick up,” I whispered. The elevator opened, revealing a crowd of young women, probably just a little older than me. They were giggling and slurring their words, half of them discussing their night, the others deciding if they should go to bed or just stay up so they wouldn’t miss their flight home.

“Pick up, damnit,” I said after the first ring. Three rings later, voicemail chimed in.

You’ve reached Trent. You know what to do.

“Ugh,” I huffed, letting my hand fall to my thigh. The door opened, and I walked with purpose to the Bellagio shops.

After searching through too fancy, too trashy, too much lace, too many beads, and too . . . much of everything, I finally found it: the dress I would wear when I became Mrs. Maddox. It was white, of course, and tea length. Fairly plain, really, except for the sheer bateau neckline and a white satin ribbon that tied around the waist. I stood in the mirror, letting my eyes study each line and detail. It was beautiful, and I felt beautiful in it. In just a couple of hours, I would be standing next to Travis Maddox, watching his eyes take in every curve of the fabric.

I walked along the wall, scanning the numerous veils. After trying on the fourth, I placed it back into its cubby, flustered. A veil was too proper. Too innocent. Another display caught my eye, and I walked toward it, letting my fingers run over the different beads, pearls, stones, and metals of various hairpins. They were less delicate, and more . . . me. There were so many on the table, but I kept coming back to one in particular. It had a small, silver comb, and the rest of it was just dozens of different-size rhinestones that somehow formed a butterfly. Without knowing why, I held it in my hand, sure it was perfect.

The shoes were in the back of the store. They didn’t have a huge selection, but luckily I wasn’t super picky and chose the first pair of silver strappy heels I saw. Two straps went over my toes, and two more around my ankle, with a group of pearls to camouflage the belt. Thankfully they had size six in stock, and I was on to the last thing on my list: jewelry.