KING: Las Vegas Bad Boys (25 page)

“Sure,” she says, in a high-pitched voice, clearly trying to mask something. “I’m good. Just a little nervous all of a sudden.” Fiona’s face seems to have drained of color.

The stylist smoothing Fiona’s gown looks up reassuringly. “It’s just butterflies. Makes sense, all brides have a bit of the jitters.”

I don’t, though. I don’t feel anything but blissed-out-happiness. Still, I want to make sure Fiona is okay.

“It’s been a whirlwind of planning,” Fiona says. “And it feels like it’s come together too easily, like something has to give.”

“Or maybe sometimes life really is just perfect,” Emmy says, shrugging. “That’s how I felt with Ace. Like it was all too good to be true.”

Tess sighs. “You guys, I need to find a man so badly. This is starting to bum me out.”

“McQueen is single,” Emmy suggests.

“Haha,” Tess says dryly.

I try and conceal a smile, thinking McQueen and Tess would be a disaster together. She wants to be a man’s eye-candy. McQueen is enough candy all on his own. He needs a really confident woman, not someone still learning to live in her skin.

“I can’t believe Ashley Fast is going to be at your wedding, Claire,” Tess says, dreamily. “At your wedding, Emmy, she wore this amazing Vera Wang. I wonder what she’ll wear today.”

“Our wedding is more low-key than Emmy’s wedding,” I say. “We’re getting married in the left wing of this house.”

Emmy rolls her eyes. “Girl, you’re delusional. The left wing happens to be a ballroom in a freaking castle.”

“True.” I shrug, shaking my head once again at the absurdity of the situation.

“You ready, ladies?” Helen says, walking into the room with my mom. They’re both wearing classy dresses with modest jewelry. Diamonds, yes, but they were both careful not to show up Fiona or me.

Fiona’s mom, however, didn’t get the memo. While she’s a single lady like my own mother, she opted for a plunging neckline and an up-do. I smile as she walks in the dressing room, remembering how Landon told me the two of them had a one-night stand.

Before, that’s something I would have been insecure about ... but not now. Now I know Landon only has eyes for me.

And that doesn’t mean I’m naive. I’m just sure. I have to be, considering we’re having a double wedding a week after he proposed.

And a few days after my own divorce was finalized.

Divorce. Wedding. Vows. Forever.

My head swirls with emotions, all of them competing for space.

But I can’t dwell on that right now.

Right now I just need to walk down the aisle. One foot in front of the other.

Except I can’t. I look around, knowing something just isn’t right.

I shake my head at my friends and family, who are walking out the door.

“Wait,” I say.

We can’t go out there yet. Not unless we are all sure this is the right thing to do.

I
n our tuxedos
, at the front of the ballroom where all our friends and family have gathered for the double wedding, I look over at Geoffrey.

He looks like shit.

“You okay, man?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he says, rubbing his temples. “I feel like something is going to happen. Everything has been too perfect.”

My brows furrow as I try to understand what he means.

“You think Claire is going to back out of this?” I ask, my throat growing dry. That’s my worst case everything.

Geoffrey smirks. “Hardly. You guys are ridiculous; everyone who takes one look at you knows it.”

“Then what?” I ask, not knowing what could possibly go awry at this point. The room is filled with Mum and Dad’s friends, the officiant stands ready. The string quartet is cued to play the processional music as soon as we get word that the ladies are ready.

Dad walks up to us, dapper in his suit, but not looking happy.

“What?” I ask, the sinking feeling no longer in my throat—it’s lodged in my stomach. I close my eyes.

“It’s the brides,” he says. “Geoffrey, Landon, you need to come with me.

I give him a brief nod and we follow him out.

Fiona is waiting for Geoffrey at the bottom of the staircase. She looks beautiful, but my eyes scan the foyer for Claire.

Where is she?

Maybe it
has
been too fast, too much.

Maybe she’s backing out, fulfilling my worst fear.

“Where’s Claire?” I ask Fiona. It’s only then that I realize Fiona’s eyes are rimmed in red.

Fuck.

“She’s in your bedroom upstairs. Sorry, Landon.”

My jaw clenches, my legs move before I think. I take the stairs two at a time.

I need to see Claire.

Now.

I knock on the bedroom door, wondering how this could all fall apart so fast. Last night we had a big family dinner. Claire and I packed for our family vacation. She, Sophia, and I are going to Playa del Carmen for ten days in the sun.

I enter our bedroom, see our luggage stacked neatly—but I don’t see Claire.

The only place left is the bathroom.

The handle doesn’t move. She’s locked herself in.

“Open up, Claire,” I say through the door.

Now the vacation seems like a distant memory. Now Claire is locked in the bathroom the day of our wedding.

“Baby, talk to me,” I say.

“I don’t want you to see me, Landon,” she says through the door.

“What? Claire, are you okay? What’s happening? Fiona is downstairs with Geoffrey. I need to see your face. Claire, you’re scaring me.”

There’s a pause. One second. Two second. Too many fucking seconds.

Then she speaks.

“Oh, baby, you can’t see me because it’s bad luck. It’s our wedding. You can’t see the bride.”

My forehead falls against the door. Relief floods me.

“You’re not walking away? Calling this off?” I ask, my words betraying my fears.

“Landon,” she says briskly. “Why would you think such a thing? God, baby. You’re my everything.”

“Then what is going on?” I think of Fiona and Geoffrey downstairs. Fiona didn’t seem like a happy bride-to-be. “You know, Geoffrey saw Fiona before the wedding. They’re talking right now.”

“I know.” She pauses again. “That’s because they aren’t getting married today.”

“Shit.”

“I know. I saw it in her eyes, the last few days, but especially today. Right before we walked out of the dressing room, I stopped, needing to check in with her—and a million tears came to the surface. She can’t go through with it.”

“Is it wrong that we are, then? Is the whole wedding off?”

“No,” she says, adamant. “Landon, I am walking down the aisle.”

“Okay ... I hate talking through a door ... but do you know why she called it off? They’ve been together forever.”

“I think Fiona and Geoffrey got caught up in the idea of a double wedding, but there’s a reason they haven’t gotten married for ten years ... and rushing it now isn’t going to solve all their problems.”

My mind returns to the conversation with Geoffrey about a savings plan, and how he knew he needed to propose, how there was no reason to wait for what he could have now.

“Are they breaking up?”

“No,” Claire assures me. “They just aren’t getting married right now. They need more time, need to do this on their own terms, without the pressure.”

“But they aren’t us. These
are
our terms.”

“Exactly. Landon,” she says, “I want to marry you now. So, scoot your ass downstairs and let me be the blushing bride I never got a chance to be.”

“I love you,” I tell her.

And then I take the steps one at a time.

No need to rush. Everything is coming together in its own time.

* * *

A
n hour later
, Fiona is sitting in a chair next to Geoffrey, in the front row of the room. They’ve changed out of their wedding clothes, and are holding hands.

Everyone has their own love story to tell, in their own time.

Right now, it’s time to tell mine.

The music starts.

Ace and Emmy walk down the aisle, hand in hand. Ace takes his place beside me as my best man.

Jack and Tess walk arm in arm.

Then McQueen and Sophia enter, and smiles are written on everyone’s face. Sophia lights up the room. She lights up my bad-boy heart.

Fuck that–I’m not a boy anymore.

Sophia needs a
man
for a father. Claire needs a man for a husband.

And I’m going to give them what they need.

Then the roomful of people stand as the music changes, and Claire walks in, my Dad escorting her down the aisle.

She walks toward me.

I’d say something about how gorgeous she looks in her gown, in her diamonds, with her hair swept to the side, but that means nothing to me. Right now, our gazes meet, and my heart swells with pride.

She only has eyes for me.

And I feel like a goddamn King.

* * *

Landon and I hold one another as we spin around the dance floor. I throw back my head, dizzy with love.

It’s our first dance as husband and wife, and of course we’ve chosen to waltz. He leads me around the ballroom in his parents’ estate, and I can’t contain my grin. I don’t want to.

“You really are a spectacular dancer,
wife
,” Landon says, his lips grazing my ear, causing everything within me to swell with desire.

“You’re not so bad yourself,
husband
.”

The words sound foreign and luxurious. And they are mine.

The music stops and, as we leave the dance floor, our small gathering claps for us indulgently.

“Sophia,” Landon says, bending down to her where she has watched from the edge of the floor. “May I have the next dance?”

“Always,” she answers, curtseying for him. Melting my freaking heart.

We’re going to be okay. All of us.

Well, maybe not Tess—she looks pretty miserable over at a table by herself.

I sit down with her, and a waiter brings us flutes of champagne.

“You doing okay?” I ask her.

“I’m good, Claire. Stop worrying about everyone.” She smiles. “Eh, maybe you can’t help it, it’s the mom in you.”

“Maybe,” I say. “I just want everyone to be happy.”

“It’s crazy—at Emmy’s wedding you were such a cynic, and look at you now.” Tess shakes her head. “Who do you think will be next? Jack and Ashley?” Tess tilts her head toward the power couple, who are quietly arguing one table over.

“Yikes.”

“I know, right? They’ve been at it all night.”

“Relationships are complicated,” I say, shrugging.

“Enough with this–shouldn’t you and Landon be having wedding night sex or something?”

I laugh. “I think so.” I look at the dance floor and see Landon spinning Sophia around the dance floor. Damn, he’s sexy.

“I’m so happy for you, Claire,” Tess says, kissing my cheek.

“You’ll have your happily ever after soon enough,” I tell her, believing it. She just needs to find the right man.

Landon catches my eye, and we exchange a not-so-secret smile. We’re ready to get this wedding night started.

* * *

A
few hours
later we’ve cut the cake, thrown the bouquet, and escaped the reception that’s winding down.

“We’re terrible hosts,” I tell Landon, as he grabs my hand. We’re headed back to our room, and I can’t wait to get there.

“We aren’t the hosts. My parents are. They’ve got it covered.”

I pause at the door to our bedroom.

But Landon doesn’t hesitate. He picks me up, holding me in his arms, and kicks open the door.

“Crossing the threshold,” he says, smirking. He sets me down, harder than I think he planned, and closes the door.

“Such a romantic,” I say, laughing, getting my balance in the high heels and the enormous skirt of the gown. “Now, are you going to help me out of this dress or not?” I ask.

“Depends.” Landon walks in front of me, looking me up and down, crossing his arms.

“On what?”

My cheeks hurt from smiling so much today. My whole heart is fueled with the love he offers.

I bite my lip, amazed that this is my life. That I am the princess in my own fairy tale.

“Well, at the last wedding we attended I asked for a night,” he says. “You gave me an hour. What am I going to get now?”

“Landon, now you get my forever.”