Vegas Love (28 page)

“Boys, stop teasing your brother,” Mom scolds.

“Yeah,” Chloe says. “We don’t want him to chicken out.”

“I’m not chickening out. I can’t. I already gave them the tape.”

She smiles at me. “I know you did. I just have to give you shit. I’m so excited, I can hardly stand it. I was on the show’s website and they said it was okay to bring Elle gifts, so I brought her a couple of my bracelets.”

“Oh, so you’re here purely for your own benefit?”

She laughs but then says seriously, “And because I want to see my baby brother happy.”

“I’m two minutes younger than you. That hardly qualifies me as the baby.”

“Sure it does,” Maddox says from the row behind me.
 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Harper says, keeping her sunglasses on and hoping no one recognizes her.

“Oh, look,” Mom says, “they’re getting ready to start the show. What time is she on?”

“About fifteen minutes into it,” Vanessa says, taking the empty seat to my left.
 

“How is she?” I ask.

“She seems okay. Happy. Not as happy as when she was with you, but she told me about her mom. She’s in a good place.”

I nod and watch the clock slowly tick down the seconds.

When she comes out on stage, I hold my breath.
 

Elle asks her about her next movie.

They share a clip and have a discussion that seems to drag on forever.
 

Finally Elle says, “So, we all know about the sex tape that was recently released. How are you handling that?”

Ashlyn is taken off guard. Vanessa told me that the sex tape was on the list of topics not to be discussed during the show.
 

But Ashlyn smiles at Elle and says, “Well, I’d strongly encourage other women to never let a boyfriend tape them. Or send them pictures they wouldn’t want others to see. Because you never know when someone will try to get back at you in that way.”

“That’s good advice,” Elle says. “Although, I understand another video of you has recently been released.”

“What are you talking about?” Ashlyn says, her green eyes getting huge with panic.

Elle nods her head at the producer. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot. This tape was sent exclusively to the Elle show. Let’s take a look.”

Ashlyn visibly cringes, but her expression changes when she sees my face.
 

The video I made is playing on the studio’s big screen. It starts with a close up of my face, then the camera pans out so you can see that I’m shirtless and lying on my stomach across the bed. I give the camera a big grin and then speak.
I just married the most amazing girl. I’m not sure if she’ll divorce me tomorrow, but I sure hope not.
 

The camera pans over to Ashlyn’s beautiful face and her pale shoulder. You can see she’s asleep as I continue to speak.
Look at her cute toes, her hair, the ring on her finger. I bought her that. In my family, I’m the guy who didn’t want to commit. And now I know why. It’s this.

The screen flashes to a photo of the back of her. My first view. You can see her sexy ass showcased in a tight sequined dress. There is a bottle of champagne dangling from her hand.

And this.

There’s a photo of just our legs smashed together, along with a wide view of the wedding reception below us. Then there are faster photos. Us kissing. Me taping her as she says,
I mean, are you the kind of asshole that would video me while I’m drunk? Sell the photos to the tabloids?
And my reply,
If I were an asshole, I’d tell you no but do it anyway.

The next picture is the selfie she wanted to take of our faces mushed together and happy. Then a picture of a plane. The edge of her dress.
 
She and I holding hands in the town car. A panoramic view of the Vegas strip. Her sexy club outfit. Our bodies plastered together as dance music plays loudly. A pan shot of the crowded club. Two foot-long margaritas. The two of us on the gondola. Selfies at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Ashlyn pretending to swing from the chandelier at the Cosmopolitan hotel.
 

Then the music slows. The fountains are in the background. I’m down on one knee.

She says,
Yes.

The flash of a diamond.
 

Ashlyn in a white dress holding a bouquet of pale flowers as she walks toward me.

A snippet of our wedding vows.
 

A ring sliding on her finger.

Our wedding kiss.
 

The margarita crew cheering. A couple crazy photos with them.

 
Her wedding dress and feet going through the door of the hotel.
You carried me over the threshold.

Then a
DO NOT DISTURB
sign hanging from the door.

A dessert tray lying next to a bath filled to the brim with bubbles.
 

Our hands, with our shiny new rings, holding champagne flutes up in a toast.
 

Then back to me on my stomach, speaking to the camera.
I have a confession to make, I don’t just Vegas love this girl. I’m madly, impetuously, stupidly, happily, crazy in love with her.
 

I know the video by heart and the whole time it’s been playing, I’ve been watching the emotions crossing her face.
 

I’m praying she will like the video. I took a big chance on this. I promised her I wouldn’t share any of our photos. I promised her I wasn’t that kind of guy. But I’m desperate and need her to know that I’m the guy who fell head over heels in love with her the second I met her. I’m the guy whose love continued to grow the more I got to know her. And I’m the kind of guy who wants to marry her again.

She’s not sitting in the seat next to Elle anymore. She’s standing, watching the video fade away. There are tears trickling down her cheeks.
 

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen,” Elle says and the crowd agrees with a collective sigh.
 

Ashlyn is frantically scanning the audience for me. I know it’s hard for her to see the crowd with the bright lights shining on her, so I yell out, “Hey, Hotass!”

She turns her head and starts walking toward me.
 

When she gets to the edge of the stage, my family along with Harper and Maddox all stand and yell out at the same time. “WILL YOU MARRY US AGAIN, ASHLYN?”

She steps off the stage and gives everyone but me a hug.
 

When she gets to Cade, he says, “I overreacted. I’m sorry.”

Then she stands directly in front of me.
 

I take her hand, get down on one knee, and say the same thing I did the first time. “Hotass, you’re the craziest, coolest, and sexiest girl I’ve ever met. Will you marry me?”

She throws her arms around me and says the words I’ve been praying I’d hear, “Yes!”

The audience cheers.

Luckiest Guy

Cash

My groomsmen and I line up at the altar and watch the wedding processional, starting with my parents. We’re in a wood beamed, stained glass chapel that’s sitting at the top of a cliff overlooking the ocean. When we were visiting wedding locations, this one stood out right away because it reminded us both of the chapel we first got married in.
 

Only bigger.
 

Everything about this wedding is bigger.
 

Just like she dreamed.
 

There are massive amounts of fall-colored flowers and candles flickering in hurricane lanterns. The pews are filled with everyone we know.
 

As “Here Comes The Bride” starts playing, I gasp at the sight of her. I watched her walk down the aisle toward me once, so I thought I was prepared for how I would feel when she walked down it today.

I was so wrong.
 

She looks more beautiful than I’ve ever seen. Her light brown hair is pulled up, she’s wearing a gorgeous gown, and being escorted down the aisle by her mother—who is fresh out of a successful stint in rehab.
 

But it’s not the way she looks that chokes me up. It’s the way her green eyes sparkle with joy when she looks at me. It’s the way she’s practically glowing with happiness.
 

She looks at happy as I feel.
 

I still feel the same excitement I felt the first time my dream girl walked toward me but this time means so much more to both of
 
us.
 

A few days ago, I told her that our Vegas marriage wasn’t legal, because we never got a wedding license. She didn’t even bat an eye and told me we are celebrating our anniversary on the day we got married there, regardless of what the law says.

It’s the day we fell in love. The day I became the luckiest guy in the world.
 

And now that girl wants to marry me again, have babies with me, and live happily ever after.

I wipe a tear from my eye as she joins me at the altar.

“You look like you stepped out of a fairytale,” I whisper to her, taking her hands in mine.

“I’ve felt like I was living a sexy fairytale since the day I met you,” she whispers back.

When it’s time to say our vows, tears glisten in her eyes as she promises to love me forever and slides the ring on my finger.
 

I grab her ass with one hand and pull her close, just like I did at our first wedding. “With this ring, I give you my heart and my promise to make life fun and help you live out your crazy dreams.”

As I slide the ring on her finger, I lean forward and whisper in her ear, “And to fuck you silly.”

She grabs my face and kisses me as everyone cheers.

“Uh, well—then I guess I will now pronounce you husband and wife. You may
continu
e to kiss the bride.”

After the ceremony, we have cocktail hour outside and then move to the reception, where we dine, have cake, change into our going-away outfits, and then leave in her Firebird to the cheers of our guests.

She’s babbling on about the wedding. “—and the cake was so good.”

“I didn’t really get to taste much of it, since someone smashed it into my face.”

“Oh, you loved it.” She laughs. “Hey, where are we going? Why are we back in Malibu?”

I take her hand in mine. “I wondered when you were going to notice.”

“I thought we were supposed to be going to a hotel. The one you wouldn’t tell me about because it was a surprise.”

“Well, Mrs. Sexy Crawford,” I say and she starts giggling. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Are we going to your brother’s house?”

I keep my mouth shut, even though I’m dying to tell her, and just shake my head as we drive past the entrance to his place.
 

A couple miles later, I turn right and pull up to a gated entrance where a guard waves us through. “Are we going to a party or something? But, Cash, we planned it all out,” she pouts.
 

I wind up into the hills overlooking Malibu, pull through another gated entrance, go down a long drive, and then the tile-roofed stucco home comes into view.

“Wow, what a beautiful house,” she says as I pull to a stop in front of it. “Why are we here? Whose house is this?”

I shut off the car, go around to her side, open the door, and help her out. She looks confused and slightly irritated about our change of plans, which is cute. It means she has no freaking idea what I’m about to tell her.

Which is practically a miracle with all the back and forth texts and calls I’ve had with my family about it.

“But I thought we were going to a hotel?” she says. “This house is lit up like a freaking Christmas tree. Why are we here?”

“Just making a quick stop.”

I take ahold of her hand and lead her up the terra-cotta steps of the home’s grand entrance.

“Those might be the biggest wooden doors I have ever seen,” she says. “They’re amazing. Whoever lives here is very lucky. The whole place looks gorgeous.”