The Wall of Winnipeg and Me: Chapter 10

The weekend came way too quickly and way too slowly at the same time. I’d woken up each night sweating profusely. I was going to commit a felony. I was getting married. And of all the people in the world, it was Aiden I was doing this with and for.

It didn’t matter how many times I reminded myself that what we were doing wasn’t real, my body couldn’t be fooled. All these changes—the moving, the living in a different room, sleeping in a different bed—they were all battling my brain for attention at all hours of the day, giving me a case of insomnia.

The only thing that eventually managed to lull me to sleep was the knowledge that I knew exactly what I was doing, what I was getting out of the hoax of a lifetime. Debt freedom and a house. I reminded myself of that repeatedly.

And we were going to Vegas to get it over with.

“It will make more sense if we do it there. We’ve gone twice together already,” he’d explained to me after I’d agreed with him that speeding into it was fine. “If we did it here, we’d have to go to the courthouse to apply for a marriage license and get a Justice of the Peace to perform a ceremony.”

He was right. We’d gone to Vegas twice. Once for a signing and the other time for a commercial he shot. Plus, I completely understood where he was going with doing it in Dallas. Someone would recognize him the instant he got out of the car at the courthouse. I could already picture a crowd if we tried to get our marr— the word gave me indigestion. License. There’d be a crowd if we went to get our license.

Actually, I think it was the word ‘our’ that gave my insides gas.

“Everyone goes to Las Vegas to elope,” the big guy had added as if I didn’t know.

Obviously, I did.

“There’s no waiting to apply for a marriage license,” he had ended with as he’d polished off a sandwich.

Another truth.

How can you argue practicality? There wasn’t a point in having any of my few loved ones there, and honestly, I really wouldn’t have wanted them to be in attendance. This wasn’t some everlasting marriage built on love. I’m pretty sure I had told Diana more than once that I was going to have a beach destination wedding if the time ever came.

If the time came, that had been my plan. Maybe someday in the distant future, it’d be a possibility.

For now, for this, Las Vegas would work.

With his credit card in hand, the morning after I moved in, I reserved two first-class plane tickets, because explaining to Aiden that flying economy was cheaper was a pointless argument I’d tried once and failed at miserably. I also scored a two-bedroom suite at the hotel we’d stayed at in the past. We’d fly in Sunday evening and leave Monday afternoon. In and out, we would sign some papers, maybe take a picture, and then head back.

On the day before we were supposed to leave, I was at the grocery store when I spotted the customer in front of me wearing a wedding band, and it hit me.

Was Aiden going to need a ring? Was I going to need one?

He’d never said anything about engagement rings or wedding rings, and I wasn’t sure if that was something we’d need to pull off the believability factor. Would they check that out at the interview? Would they care? I remembered Diana’s cousin Felipa had worn a wedding ring way before things got serious between her and her husband. But I’d also met couples before who didn’t bother with rings.

So…

I looked online to see if there was anything about whether agents checked that kind of thing or not, and I knew The Proposal wasn’t a good example of how immigration issues actually worked. What was I supposed to do?

Chances were, he wouldn’t wear it. But….

Get one anyway, my brain said. I could worry about one for myself when the time came, but it would be months until then.

I’d learned to trust my instincts, so that evening when he was running drills after hours by himself at the Three Hundreds’ training facility, I fought the nagging feeling in my belly and snagged his College National Football Championship ring from the drawer where he kept it. Holding onto it for dear life, I headed to a small jeweler I’d visited in the past to get my favorite pair of earrings fixed when I’d messed them up.

The jeweler had a lot of rings to choose from, but not much in sizes large enough to fit Aiden’s fingers. Luckily, he said he could get something resized for me in record time, and I chose a basic fourteen-karat white gold band. It was nothing remotely fancy or even eighteen karat, but… no one likes a picky bitch, and I was paying for it out of my own pocket, so he better not complain.

I was buying my soon-to-be fake husband a wedding ring that he may or may not wear.

After all, we had to make it believable. So even if he didn’t wear it, at least he’d have it, I figured.

It only made me not want to get it more.

“Are you ready?” Aiden called up the stairs.

I was never going to be ready. Ever.

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.”

He really, really was.

Aiden shrugged, carelessly, like he usually did when someone mentioned his size. I thought people made him uncomfortable when they brought it up, but mostly because I’d heard him tell Leslie before that it wasn’t like he’d done something for it. His genes had given him his stature and the framework of his build; all he’d done was work out and eat well to develop what he’d been given. His lack of a reply wasn’t arrogance; I was pretty positive he just didn’t know what to say.

The poor guy continued gaping at him, completely unaware I existed, much less that behind us were at least four other people wondering what the hell was taking so long for us to order.

Aiden didn’t help the situation either by standing there, looking back at his fan with that unreadable, borderline bored expression on his face. “Could you get my girl a coffee?”

His girl?

It took every ounce of my self-control not to look up at him with an expression that said exactly what I was thinking: what the hell did you just call me?

Thankfully, I didn’t physically react. When the cashier finally snapped out of his trance, he glanced at me and blinked. I smiled at him even as I pulled my phone out of my pocket, ignoring the strange feeling coursing through my spine at the fake term of endearment that had just come out of Aiden’s mouth.

“Oh, sure. Sure. My bad. What can I get you?” the guy asked, blushing.

I placed my order, quickly looking down to make sure I was texting the right person, and typed out a quick message.

I sent the man next to me before handing over my card.

The guy cast another glance at Aiden while he swiped it hastily, nervously. I thanked him when he gave it back, but he was back to not paying any attention to me; he was still staring at Aiden, and on closer inspection, I realized the poor guy’s hands were shaking.

“Thanks,” I mumbled one more time as I took my cup and moved aside to put coffee and creamer in it. Aiden shifted over along with me, seeming to be in his own little world, oblivious to the text message I’d sent him, or maybe just deciding to ignore the phone I knew he usually kept on vibrate in his pocket. It was right then that I noticed the people in line behind us were all staring at him.

I couldn’t blame them. He didn’t exactly give off a welcoming vibe, standing there with his backpack on both shoulders, his arms crossed over his chest with my bag resting at his feet while he waited on me. Then I realized they were glancing at me too. Measuring me. Seeing who was with the guy the employee was freaking out about.

Just me.

The nerves and the urge to throw up didn’t go anywhere. I was nauseous the entire flight to Vegas. Aiden said maybe five words to me before he put his head against the window and fell asleep, which wasn’t a bad thing, considering I was stuck in my own world of denial and terror. I kept telling myself everything was fine, but it didn’t feel like it. If Aiden was battling any nerves or insecurity, he didn’t let it show as we walked out of the airport and caught a cab to our hotel off the Strip. We checked in and made our way up the elevator to the suite.

He swiped the card through the door and let me in first.

I had to let out a whistle as I took in the clean, contemporary furnishings. I’d forgotten how nice this hotel was and it made me feel a little guilty. When I was a kid, we hadn’t travelled much, mostly because my mom never had the money, much less the time or inclination, to take us anywhere. But on the rare occasion that Diana’s parents invited me to go along with them on a trip, we would stay at the really cheap motels on the side of the road that looked like something out of a horror movie, and we’d all crammed in to a room—or two, if her parents could swing it.

And I always had a good time, even more so if the motel had a pool.

Yet here I was at this five-star hotel, staying with a man who was a millionaire. I’d paid the rate for the room with his card. I was well aware of how much everything cost. I knew that no one in my family, with the exception of my little brother, would ever stay in a place like this. And it made me feel slightly uncomfortable. Guilty. A little sad.

“You all right?” that gruff, low voice asked from behind me when I’d stopped just though the door.

I had to clear my throat and force myself to give him a nod and a smile, which was about as insincere as you could get. “Sure.”

Yeah, he read it on my face easily, his eyes swinging around the room in confusion. “You chose the hotel.” His tone was slightly accusing. “You don’t like it?”

“No.” I shook my head, now feeling like a dick on top of everything else. “I mean, of course I like it. This is the nicest place I’ve ever stayed.” That was saying a lot, because when I travelled with Aiden, we always stayed somewhere nice. “I was just thinking about how fancy it is, and how I never would have imagined when I was a kid that I could stay somewhere like this. That’s all.”

The fact I was staying here with Aiden, to marry him, just sent that nail straight home into my heart. Younger Vanessa, pre-twenty-six-year-old Vanessa, had no idea what she had in store for her.

There was a pause, and I swore we both looked over our shoulders to glance at each other. The tension between us was awkward and uncertain. The Wall of Winnipeg blinked those big brown eyes. “You could have invited your family if you really wanted to.”

“Oh, uh, no. It’s all right.” In hindsight, I realized I’d shot down his offer too fast. “I only keep in contact with my little brother, and he’s already back in school.”

Why was he looking at me so strange?

“I don’t…” Good grief, why was this flustering me so much? And why couldn’t I just shut up? “I only talk to my mom every once in a while and never my sisters. And my best friend works a lot.” I wrung my hands and finished up the spiel of stupidity. “I don’t have anyone else.”

Aiden stared at me for so long, I frowned. “You’re acting weird,” he stated so casually I almost ignored the actual words that had come out of his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re being weird with me,” Aiden repeated himself.

That had me slamming my mouth closed and my frown growing.

The man who didn’t keep things to himself kept on barreling through what he apparently felt he needed to say. “I told you I was sorry.”

Uh.

“Look, everything is fine—” I started to say before he cut me off with a shake of his head.

“It isn’t. You don’t smile anymore. You haven’t called me big guy or given me hell,” he stated.

Wait a second. I hadn’t, had I? And he’d noticed? The possibility that he’d noticed made me feel strange, almost uncomfortable. “I thought I annoyed you,” I mumbled, trying to figure out what was the right response and whether he was saying these things because he genuinely missed them or not.

“You do.” And there we went. “But I’m used to it now.”

Wait another second….

“You’ve never made me feel awkward before, but you look at me differently now. Like you don’t know me, or you don’t like me.” The fact he leveled an even gaze at me, without shame, without embarrassment, without playing games, hit me right in the solar plexus. “I get it if you’re still pissed, if you don’t think of me the way you used to, but I liked the way we were before,” he went on. With his face open and completely earnest, he only slightly made me feel bad for how obvious I’d been with my frustrations with him, especially since he seemed to not just notice, but also missed the way things had been despite going out of his way to ignore me for so long.

“I know.” I swallowed and bit the inside of my cheeks. “I know. Look, I’m just…” I shrugged. “We’ll be back to normal in no time, I’m sure. This has all just been a lot for me to handle, and I’m trying to get used to it. It’s hard for me to forgive people sometimes. I don’t know how to act around you any more, I guess.”

“The same way you used to,” he suggested evenly, as if it was the easiest answer in the world.

I swallowed, stuck between being stubborn and holding on to the fear and resentment I’d felt and unsure of how to move forward with this version of Aiden I was trying to get to know.

As if sensing I had no idea how to answer, he rolled his shoulders back and asked, “Other than that, you’re sure you’re fine?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

I nodded, letting out a breath that had somehow gotten stuck deep in the pit of my belly, bloating it with insecurity and anxiety and probably a dozen other things I wasn’t aware of. “Yeah. I, ah, changed my address on my bank statement a couple days ago. I’ll change my license as soon as I can,” I explained and suddenly felt a little awkward. “Are you sure you’re okay with all this? You’re sure you still want to be stuck with me for the next five years?”

That dark, almost caramel-colored gaze, landed on me, even, intense, determined. “Yes,” that smoke-wrapped voice replied effortlessly. “We need to go pick up the paperwork for the petition right after we sign the papers.”

Sign the papers. We were back at it. I gulped. “Yeah. Okay.”

Something in my tone must have been apparent because he shook off that pinning focus, leveling a frown in my direction. “You’re not backing out on me.”

It occurred to me he wasn’t asking. He was telling. I was a little offended he’d even assume I would do that. “I’m not backing out on you. We’re here already. I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t think you would, but I wanted to—”

What? Remind me? Make sure? “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. We’re doing this,” I assured him.

It took him a moment to nod. “I know we’re rushing into it, but this is the only chance we’ll have. Next month is going to get busier for me.”

“Aiden, I know. I understand. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? It’s fine. I have things to do, too.” Without thinking about it, I reached over and touched his bare forearm lightly. “I’m not going to disappear on you in the middle of the night. I always go through with my promises, all right? The only place I’m going soon is to El Paso next month for a weekend, but I’ll be back after a few days. I’ll be around in two years, and I’ll still be here three years after that. I don’t take my word lightly.”

Something flashed across his eyes so briefly it was there in one blink and gone the next.

Feeling a little shy, I pulled my hand back and smiled up at him, feeling something loosen up inside of me. “Look, I guess I haven’t completely gotten over what happened, even though I know you’re sorry. I know what it’s like for someone to do something unforgivable, and it’s unfair for me to take it out on you, okay? I’m sure I’ll be back to flipping you off in no time. Don’t worry.”

He nodded slowly, his features never loosening up enough to be considered relaxed.

“Everything will work itself out. I know you’re sorry.” I made myself shrug and let out a long, exhale that made me feel like I lost a few pounds. “I’m grateful for everything, but I need to go pee right now. Come get me when you’re ready to leave.”

I smiled at him before I hightailed it to the bathroom in the bedroom on the right, needing a minute to myself. Inside, I leaned against the door and let out a choppy exhale. What was I doing?

Everything would be fine, I figured as I used the bathroom and then headed into the bedroom.

It was only five-ish in the afternoon thanks to the time change, but knowing Aiden, he’d want to get the paperwork signed and over with as quickly as possible. So I wasn’t surprised when he knocked on the open door connecting my room to the living area and raised his eyebrows when he found me sitting in the middle of the bed, trying to rein in the eighty different emotions battling their way through my nerves.

I was doing this. I was really fucking doing this. I was getting married.

And if that wasn’t enough, apparently Aiden missed me giving him shit. Who would have thought?

But most importantly, I was about to marry Aiden Graves.

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Or both.

“You want to go get this over with?” he asked from his spot at the doorway.

Get this over with.

That decided it. It broke me.

I couldn’t help it, I face-planted on the bed. It was either crying or laughing, and I was going to go with the latter so I wouldn’t lose it over Mr. Romance. “Sure. I don’t have anything else to do,” I snorted, muffled by the comforter. I was about to go commit a felony. Little Vanessa had no idea what she would be capable of as an adult.

“Why are you laughing?” His question reached me as I lost it even more.

It took a second for me to get it together, but eventually, I managed to sit up and rub my hand over the side of my face as I let out a shaky, nervous smile. He, on the other hand, was standing there looking at me like I’d lost my mind. “You make it sound like we’re having to go to the DPS to get your license renewed, and you don’t want to go.” I scooted off the edge of the bed and stood up, stretching my jaw from how hard I’d cracked up. “Do you know where you want to do this?”

He tipped that bearded chin down. “There’s a chapel two blocks away from here.”

I nodded, that familiar sense of anxiety fluttering through my chest once more. “Okay.” I took in the clothes he was still wearing from the flight. “Let me change my shirt at least.” He wasn’t dressed up. Why should I be?

He cast a glance at the T-shirt I had on and backed out.

I changed my into the slightly dressier work blouse I’d worn in front of him plenty of times in the past and met him in the living room. He was still in his hoodie and V-neck, looking handsome and casual at the same time. Show-off. That small medallion peeking at the apex of the cut of his shirt was what caught my eye the most though.

I followed after the big guy. We walked through the lobby and out into the hot Vegas sun. He’d said the chapel was only two blocks away, but they felt like the longest blocks of my life. I’d been to Vegas two other times in the past, but it had always been with him for work, so I hadn’t gotten a chance to walk around and check it out. Most of my sightseeing had been done through the window of whatever car we were travelling in.

During the day, it didn’t look anything like it did at night. I could see Aiden just a foot or two ahead, but I was too busy looking around at the different shops and restaurants to put in much effort to keep an eye on him. Sure enough, exactly two blocks away from our hotel, he stopped in front of a little white chapel that I was pretty sure I’d seen in movies before.

“Are you ready?” The Wall of Winnipeg asked like we were heading for battle.

No.

I wasn’t, but as I looked at Aiden’s hard face and thought about how badly he wanted to live in the U.S. without worrying about his visa, how could I have told him no? Okay, I could have, but that huge part of me that was 100 percent pushover understood. I knew what it was like to not want to live somewhere.

Good-bye to the next five years of my life.

“Yes,” I finally answered. “We need pictures. The Immigration official is going to ask for them at your interview.”

The corners of his mouth moved in a way that was as much of a smile as I’d ever witnessed on him, and might ever see. My nerves were like live wires and my stomach hurt, but it seemed like I was doing the right thing.

“What? I looked it up. I want to be prepared.” To not go to jail and get what had been promised to me. And wasn’t that what Aiden should have realized? I was going off his word, relying on him to go through with what he’d promised me at the end of this upcoming journey. Hell, when we divorced, I could ask him for half of everything he owned. Obviously, he had to trust me enough to know I would never do something like that.

“Everything will be all right,” he seemed to promise me after a moment, that partial smile still tipping the fullest part of his cheeks.

“Okay.” My hands were sweaty. “Let’s do it.”

He nodded and in we went.

The two people working at the main desk had obviously done this a thousand times in the past. They didn’t blink a single eyelash at us in our street clothes; they didn’t gush or ask any questions that would have made me feel strange. I thought about the ring I was carrying around in my pocket and… I chickened out. I left it there, promising myself I’d take it out later.

We filled out the paperwork they gave us, chose a wedding package for $190.00 that included a ceremony in the chapel, a silk rose bouquet, a boutonniere that had Aiden eyeing it with disdain, a photographer, and CD with five high-resolution pictures to document our “big day.”

The minister was another $60.00.

So for $250.00, Aiden and I stood at the front of the aging wedding chapel with a man who might have been inebriated, and we listened to him say words that seemed to go in one ear and out the other. At least for me.

Was I freaking out? A little bit. But I kept my eye on the boutonniere that Aiden had shoved into the front pocket of his jeans, and I squeezed the ribbon-wrapped stems of my bouquet with damp fingers until the words, “Are you exchanging rings?” came out of his mouth.

Aiden shook his head at the same time my trembling fingers pulled the white gold band out of my pocket and handed it over. I didn’t want to put it on for him; it just seemed too intimate of a gesture.

Those dark irises shot to mine as he tried to slide it over his knuckles. It didn’t fit. Why was that so surprising? Of course he would have gotten bigger in the eight years since he’d won the national championship in college. He moved the ring over to his pinky finger and it slid on easily. That penetrating gaze went back to mine and stayed there, heavy and insurmountable, making me feel so vulnerable that I had to look down at the bouquet that wasn’t going to make it much longer under how much I was wringing my hands. I kept my expression down until the words “you may now kiss the bride” came out of the minister’s mouth.

When I peered up, I found Aiden’s eyes on me and I widened mine, slanting a look to the side, not knowing what the hell we were supposed to do. I’d been too busy stressing about the ceremony to worry about this part.

Then I thought about the photographer and knew what needed to be done even though I didn’t want to do it.

But more than that, I really didn’t want to go to jail or pay out of my butt for fines. Screw it. I didn’t have to make out with him… even if it wouldn’t have really been a hardship if I had to.

I took a step forward. Aiden’s gaze shifted to the side in uncertainty, something I didn’t want to focus on too much right then because I had my own nerves to worry about. Then I took another step forward, put my hands on those muscle-packed upper arms, and went up to my tippy-toes, still coming up short.

He was frowning even as he lowered his head, our gazes locked on each other, and I pressed my mouth against his. It was nothing grand, just a peck, the center of my lips against the fullest part of his. They were softer, more pliable than I ever would have imagined. The whole contact lasted maybe two seconds before I fell back to my heels and stepped away. My chest and neck were hot.

And this handsome, stern man I was signing paperwork with, was frowning even more after I put three feet between us.

“Congratulations!” the minister cheered as the other chapel employee literally threw glitter at us. I was glad I was wearing glasses when Aiden rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“One picture of you two together,” the photographer said, already gesturing me back to Aiden’s side.

I swallowed and nodded. Believable. A quick shuffle later, I was at his side. When he didn’t put his arm around me or do anything remotely couple-like, I slipped my arm through his, pressed my hip against him, and held on just as the flash blinded us.

The photographer smiled as she took a step back and lowered her camera. “Give me ten minutes, Mr. and Mrs. Graves, and I’ll have the CD ready.”

Mr. and Mrs. Graves.

Diana’s favorite saying described the situation perfectly: Shit just got real.

It was strange to think that by eight o’clock on a Sunday in mid-August, I was legally a married woman.

After the chapel gave us our CD with our five photographs and paperwork, we headed back to the hotel in a dream-like state. At least for me it seemed like a dream. A weird, weird, weird dream that resembled more of an acid trip than reality. Neither one of us said much, but I was busy thinking about what we’d done, and knowing Aiden, he was thinking about his next preseason game.

We headed into our respective rooms, only exchanging a forced smile from me and a slightly pinched mouth from him. I must have sat on the edge of the bed for at least thirty minutes, simply getting my thoughts together. The walls seemed to close in on me, and I started to feel itchy and restless.

Married. I was freaking married. The woman at the chapel had called me Mrs. Graves.

I married Aiden.

There was no way I could have stayed in that room all night. I was too amped up to work or draw. Crawling out of my skin, I needed something else to keep my mind on. So I thought about all the things I used to imagine doing when Vegas came to mind, and there was really only one thing on the list: I wanted to see a show.

After making sure I had my ID and debit card, I got up and walked into the living area of the suite to find it empty. Peeking into Aiden’s room, I found him asleep on the bed, fully-clothed and completely passed out. One big palm was being used as a pillow and the other was tucked between his thighs, a super-soft, barely audible whistling sound coming out of his mouth.

I glanced at my watch and hesitated for a second. He probably wouldn’t want to go, would he?

Nah.

He didn’t seem like the type to get excited over acrobats and clowns in extravagant costumes, much less crowds. Grabbing the notepad on the nightstand next to the king-sized bed he was on, I jotted down a message.

I tippy-toed out of the room, slowly closed the hotel door behind me, and I was out of there.

Las Vegas wasn’t exactly the best place in the world for a single female traveler, but with all the people on the street walking around, I figured it could have been a lot worse. It was easy to blend in. I walked down the street and took my time going in and out of some of the shops. Tourists of all ages and nationalities filled the stores, and I didn’t feel as lonely as I thought I would have walking around this unknown city all by myself on the same day I’d married my ex-boss.

I was looking around the M&M store when my phone started vibrating in my pocket. When I pulled it out, Miranda P. flashed across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” the raspy, sleepy voice asked.

I named the store with a frown as some asshole shoved me from behind to get to the display in front of me.

Aiden cursed, and I had to pull the phone away from my face to make sure it really was him calling and not his evil twin. “Wait there,” he demanded.

“For what?” I asked just as the line went dead.

Was he coming? And had he just cussed or was I imagining it?

I wasn’t sure. I browsed the store for a while and was barely walking out when I happened to glance in the direction I’d come from. Towering over everyone down the block, was what had to be Aiden’s big head. I couldn’t see his face because his hood was up, but I knew it was him just from the way he held his shoulders. I was too far away to see his eyes, but I could tell he was looking around.

It was a fact that even with his hood on, I could tell he was irritated. I stood off to the side by the doors and watched him make his way around the tourists oblivious to his presence. The second his gaze landed on me, I sensed it and waved.

His mouth went a little funny in a way that I recognized all too well.

What the hell was he mad about anyway?

“What are you doing?” he snapped the instant he was close enough to be heard.

I lifted my shoulders, shoving my glasses up the bridge of my nose in the process. “Walking around.”

“You could have woken me up to come with you,” he practically hissed, stopping a foot away from me.

First off, his attitude was getting on my nerves. Secondly, I wasn’t a fan of the tone of voice he was using. “Why would I wake you up?”

The few inches of his jaw that were visible were tight. “So I could come with you. Why else?”

He was giving me that look.

One, two, three, four, five.

I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t know you’d want to come. I figured you would rather stay in the hotel room and rest.” After all, he’d been taking a nap when I looked for him.

The long line of his throat rippled. “I would’ve rather stayed in, but I also don’t need you getting kidnapped and being used as a drug mule.”

God help me. I looked around at the thousands of people making their way up and down along the Strip to make sure I wasn’t imagining them. “You really think someone’s going to kidnap me here? Really?”

Aiden’s nostrils flared. He stared down at me.

I stared back.

“You’re already giving me a headache and it’s been four hours.”

“I was trying to be nice and leave you alone, not give you a headache. Come on.” I huffed. “I’m just walking around. I have gone places without you.” A few. But not by myself. I wasn’t going to admit that out loud though, especially now when he was getting all bent out of shape for no reason.

He kept glaring at me, that look that got on my nerves taking over his features inch by inch. “That’s stupid. You’re—what? Five seven? Five eight? A hundred and forty pounds? You can’t walk around Las Vegas by yourself,” he stressed, his tone so tight I reeled back.

I blinked in confusion and surprise. “Aiden, it isn’t a big deal. I’m used to doing things by myself.”

The lids over those big, brown eyes lowered slowly, a deep breath blowing from pursed lips, as if we were the only people on the Strip when that absolutely wasn’t anywhere close to the truth. “Maybe you’re used to doing things by yourself, but don’t be an idiot.” He started off calmly, totally in control. “I didn’t know where you were. There’s crime here—don’t give me that face. I know there’s crime everywhere. We might not be doing this for the reasons most people do, but I made a vow, Van. And I promised you we would try to be friends. Friends don’t let friends wander around alone.” He pinned me with a glare. “You aren’t the only one who takes their promises seriously.”

Uh. What was happening?

Those dark eyes were the steadiest thing I’d ever seen as he said, “I can’t do this without you.”

Well, shit. I wasn’t sure I even knew how to talk after that.

Our marriage—vomit, hurl, and diarrhea—wasn’t real, but he had a point. We had made vows I couldn’t seem to remember because I hadn’t been listening. But the point was, we had made promises to each other even before that, and I didn’t ever want to be the type of person who backed out on their word.

“I won’t go anywhere until you’re a resident, big guy. I promise.”

His gaze swept over my face for the longest second of my life, and eventually, eventually, he cleared his throat. “What is it you want to do?” he grumbled suddenly, as if he hadn’t just said the most meaningful words I’d ever heard come out of his mouth.

To give him credit, he didn’t complain once after I told him the name of the production I wanted to go watch. But I was also clasping my hands together in front of my chest like I was a little kid begging for something. “It’s all I want to go see.”

And I was going to do it regardless of whether he tagged along or not, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

He simply looked back up at the non-existent Nevada stars and sighed. “Fine, but I need to get something to eat afterward.”

I might have bounced up to my toes. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Really-really?” I swear I might have been beaming.

Aiden gave me the most pained nod in the history of the world. “Yes. Sure. Let’s go buy the tickets.”

I’d never in my life wanted to pull a Dorothy and click my heels together, but the idea of not walking around Vegas by myself, and with this gigantaur who could have passed for a bodyguard, I found myself grinning at him and clapping. “Okay, let’s go.”

For the sake of his life, I decided to ignore the grimace on his face.

Off we went. The hotel was on the opposite side of the Strip, but we made it with time to spare, snagging the two best tickets possible, which I paid for since I felt guilty he’d been paying for everything, and they were third row seats, so I figured it would be worth every penny spent dipping into my savings.

As we got in line at the concession stand, I could feel myself shaking for the second time in the same day, but this time it was with excitement. Cirque du Lune had come to Dallas in the past, but I’d always talked myself out of shelling out the cash to go. Now that I wasn’t paying rent and business was steady, spending the money didn’t send me into heart palpitations, or falling over with guilt over the extravagance. Plus, I was so pumped, I even signed the receipt with a smile on my face.

“Do you want to share a popcorn?” I asked after we got into the super-long line at the concession stand, so overjoyed I didn’t care that the popcorn was going to cost an arm and a leg.

He started to dip his chin just as I spotted a finger reaching up to tap his arm from behind. Aiden hesitantly turned to come face-to-face with a woman in her forties and a man in the same age range. They were both smiling.

“Could we take a picture with you?” the woman blurted out, her cheeks coloring.

“We’re huge fans,” the man added, his face more red than pink.

“We’ve been following your career since Michigan,” the woman continued on in a rush.

Aiden did that tiny little half-assed smile he conjured up for fans as he nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” That big head turned to face me. “Take the picture?”

The woman smiled sheepishly at me before handing over her phone. I got the camera in focus as the older couple sandwiched Aiden between them—they looked so small in comparison!—and was taking a step back when I caught movement in the sliver of space between Aiden and the female fan. He never put his arm around people in pictures, I’d noticed from the beginning, but always kept his hands at his sides. It was because of that, that I almost missed the small hand motion, but I didn’t, and when Aiden scowled almost immediately, it took everything inside of me not to burst out laughing as I took the shot.

By the time I handed the phone over, we were next in line, and I left Aiden to finish listening to his handsy fans as I ordered popcorn with no butter, a medium soda, and a bottle of water.

“It was so nice meeting you!” the woman called out as Aiden headed toward me once I was out of line.

I barely managed to raise the bag of popcorn to face level when I lost it, peeking at him when I wasn’t blinking away tears.

The fact that Aiden’s ears turned red as he watched me crack up, said he knew what I was dying over. “Don’t say a word,” he gritted.

“Did she grab a handful?” I choked out.

The look he gave me was a mix of ‘you’re an idiot’ and ‘fuck off,’ which only made me laugh harder.

He’d gotten molested. By a fan. Right in front of me.

That split second look of surprise on his face when he got fondled would probably stay with me for the rest of my life.

“Shut up, Vanessa.”

I was dying. He usually just ignored me, but this was so much better. “I’m not saying anything!” I wheezed from behind the bag of popcorn.

Aiden narrowed his eyes, waiting patiently. “Are you done?” he asked after a few more seconds of me cracking up.

I had to wipe at the tears in my eyes with the back of my hand, shaking my head. “I—I—”

He gestured me toward the doors to the theater. “Get inside before they close the doors.” His tone was exasperated and maybe even a little embarrassed. Maybe. Why would getting his butt cheek squeezed rile him up?

I had to swallow raggedly as I wiped at my face one more time, picturing that epic look of shock once more. I lost it again. “Does that kind of thing happen often?”

“No. Would you stop laughing?”

It was almost two in the morning by the time we made it back to the hotel. I felt happier than I had in forever. The show had been amazing, and dinner at the restaurant in the same hotel as Cirque du Lune after the show had been great. The host had recognized Aiden and gave us the best and most secluded table so Aiden could be left in peace. It had seriously been nice, even if Aiden hadn’t talked much while we ate. I didn’t go out often, but deciding to explore instead of staying in to work that night seemed like one of the best ideas I’d had in forever.

So when we got inside the living area to the suite and started going in opposite directions toward our rooms, I stopped at the doorway to mine and turned to look at the man I’d signed papers with hours ago. He was visibly tired, after all, he usually went to bed by nine at the latest, and he looked beyond exhausted.

Why wouldn’t he though? He’d played a preseason game twelve hours ago and only managed to nap twice since then. Damn it. This sense of unwanted affection seeped its way into the place between my breasts.

“Thank you so much for staying up and coming with me,” I said, squeezing my hands at my sides as I smiled at him. “I had a really good time.”

Aiden nodded, one corner of his mouth moved a millimeter, but it was a millimeter that could have moved a mountain. “Me too.”

I was too soft to be excited by that sliver of a smile. “Good night.”

“Night.”

It wasn’t until after I showered and had snuggled under the covers that I finally let myself sink into reality. I was a married woman.