The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

I’d been up since four in the morning, waking up to find my heart pounding, and a hundred million thoughts going through my head one after the other. We were leaving. We were going to Vegas to sign paperwork that would legally make me able to change my name to Graves if I wanted to.

That was another thing we hadn’t talked about, but I didn’t see a point in bringing it up. Plenty of women didn’t change their names when they got married nowadays, right? If he didn’t ask me to, I sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up. That just seemed like a nightmare waiting to happen at the social security office.

“Vanessa,” he hollered. “We need to go.”

With a nervous sigh that bordered on a growl, I got off the edge of the bed, where I’d been sitting for the last fifteen minutes while I waited for the nausea and the nerves to go somewhere else, and grabbed my duffel bag. We were only staying one night, but I didn’t know what to pack or what to wear to… do it… so I brought a casual dress I’d worn ten times before, dressy jeans and a blouse, and two T-shirts to be on the safe side, along with one of my favorite pairs of heels. Underwear, socks, a toothbrush, travel toothpaste, a hairbrush, and deodorant rounded out my bag. I was wearing my tennis shoes on the way. For one day, it was definitely more than I really needed, but I hated not being prepared, so I’d live with what I’d packed.

Packed to go get married.

It was just as big of a deal as I was trying not to make it out to be.

“Vanessa,” Aiden bellowed, not impatiently, more just so I could hear him. “Come on.”

“I’m coming. Hold your horses!” I yelled back from the top of the stairs, before hightailing it over to Zac’s room real quick. Knocking on the door, I pressed my ear against it. “Zac Attack, we’re leaving!”

The door opened a few seconds later. His dark blond head peeked out, a big smile already plastered to his face. He had been teasing me nearly nonstop since he’d gotten home right after I moved in, apologizing for not making it home in time and not needing to hint that he’d stayed over at a woman’s house. The first chance I had with him alone, I’d asked him again if he was really fine with what was going on. His response: “Why wouldn’t I be, darlin’? You’re the one marryin’ him, not me, and I like havin’ you around.”

And that was that.

With them being away from the house so much, it wasn’t like we’d been inconveniencing each other or anything.

“Gimme a hug then, bride-to-be,” Zac said, already holding his arms wide.

“Ugh.” I scowled even as I leaned into his embrace.

“Vanessa!”

“Your future hubby is waitin’,” Zac said before I reached up and pinched his lips together.

“We’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Vanessa!”

I sighed and took a step back. “Wish me luck.”

Zac waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, an ornery smile taking over his tan face. “I sure will, Mrs. Graves.”

He was so full of shit, but I knew if I didn’t get downstairs, Aiden would probably come up here and drag me down—he hated being late—so I let Zac’s comment go and ran down the stairs. At the bottom, Aiden’s expression was his typical exasperated one. He was dressed in jeans and a black V-neck that stretched across the wide width of his muscular chest. His favorite hoodie dangled from his fingertips.

He gave me a look as I jogged down the steps, nerves making my knees weak. Aiden didn’t wait for me to make it down before he was on his way to the garage. I hauled ass through the kitchen, closed the garage door behind me, and carried my bag to his SUV.

“You got everything?” he asked with a curt look once we were both buckled in as he turned his head to back out of the driveway.

I ran my fingers over the small lump in the front pocket of my jeans and felt the flutter of nerves remind me they hadn’t gone anywhere. I took in his face quickly; the stern line of his mouth, the hard jut of his chin, and the constant tension creasing his eyebrows. Reality flowed over me. I was marrying this guy.

Oh, brother.

“Yep,” I squeaked.

The trip to the airport went well with the sports talk show on the radio keeping us company; luckily, they were only discussing professional baseball. Aiden parked his car in one of the covered lots. From there, we took a shuttle to the terminal. I eyed him a few times on the way over, my hands getting sweatier by the second. Just as the mini-bus rolled up to the drop-off, Aiden slipped his hoodie on despite the ninety-something degree weather in Dallas, and pulled the zipper all the way up to his throat.

When the bus stopped, he was the first to get up, reaching for his backpack with one hand and my duffel in the other. If he wanted to carry my bag, I wasn’t about to insist.

I let him lead us toward the check in. In no time, we had our boarding passes, and Aiden signed autographs for the four airline employees working behind the counter before the trek toward security. It was impossible not to notice the people around us stealing glances and gawking at him. It wasn’t like he didn’t stand out in a hoodie, even if it was only to women checking him out. While he wasn’t the tallest man in the world, the sheer size of him was eye-catching. Even in a double extra-large hoodie, the size of his shoulders and the outlines of his biceps were unmistakable.

Together, we walked up to the first TSA agent who looked at both of our licenses, went a bit pink-faced for a moment, and then waved us forward. Gentleman that he was, Aiden let me get in line first. Making sure his attention was elsewhere when we got to the part of security where our carry-on luggage was checked, I put the white gold band on one of the trays with my cell phone and snuck it back into my pocket the instant I finished passing through the detector.

“I want a cup of coffee,” I said when Aiden caught up to me. “Do you want something?”

He shook his head but walked along with me to the closest Dunkin Donuts, his frame a big, imposing shadow that I couldn’t help but constantly be aware of. In all the times we’d traveled together, I didn’t think we’d ever been so close to one another. Usually I was trailing behind him, or he’d go off to sit somewhere by himself. This time though, he wasn’t standing fifty feet away, much less ten, with his headphones in, oblivious to everyone and everything around him.

And that might have made me feel a little bit better. He wasn’t exactly ignoring me or acting the way he usually did, AKA pretending I didn’t exist. I had to give him some credit for that, didn’t I?

Once we were in line, I glanced over to find his attention straight-ahead, focused on the menu; a crease formed between his eyebrows. The customer in front of us moved aside, and I took a step forward as the employee peeked up from the cash register, briefly glancing at Aiden before looking back down. “How can I help you?”

“Can I—?”

Double taking, the employee’s gaze went up to Aiden again. His nostrils flared.

I knew he was going to gasp before he did it. The employee’s eyes went wide first. His mouth slammed shut second. Then he sucked in a breath. “Fuck,” the cashier whispered, his gaze locked on the behemoth next to me.

The behemoth who was, at that point, looking around and not paying any attention to the individual freaking out in front of him. So I elbowed him. Aiden’s attention snapped down to me so quickly it was a little alarming. He was frowning. I tipped my head to the side discreetly in the direction of the donut shop employee. Not anywhere near being an idiot, those brown eyes went where I indicated.

The employee was still gazing at him with huge eyes.

“Are you… you’re… you’re Aiden… Aiden Graves,” the guy who had to be a couple years younger than me blubbered.

Aiden nodded tightly.

Oh, brother. Mr. Social Skills was at it again.

“You’re… I’m…” The guy was panting. “I’m such a fan. Holy shit.” He sucked in another breath, and I swear his face paled. “You’re even bigger in person.”

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