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Now that felt like an opening; Saskia had her own announcement. “Listen up, everyone.” She raised her hand for their attention. “For those of you who don’t know, we’ve decided to make the mural on Clay’s warehouse a collaborative effort. We’ll start work right after Clay and I get back from our drive across Europe in his new sports car.” They would also stop in London for a reading retreat and still be back in time for Gareth’s show.
Cheers rose up. Had Fernsby actually winked at her? No, that couldn’t be possible.
“Rosie, Sebastian, Dylan, and Gareth will be working with San Holo on the mural.” Her smile felt as wide as the Grand Canyon. “And Charlie will add her metal art.”
Francine waved frantically, and the Mavericks parted for her to speak. “Please tell me Charlie’s not going to put Zanti Misfits all over it. Those little creatures are terrifying.” Everyone laughed. Saskia would have to ask Clay later about these Zanti Misfits. They might be a fabulous addition to the mural.
She finished her announcement with, “Once the mural is completed, we’ll have a grand opening party and invite all of San Francisco.”
A cacophony of clapping rattled the plane as Saskia mouthed to Clay, “I love you.”
He mouthed back, “I love you more.”
She felt giddy with happiness “I love you even more.”
The game set her skin on fire. They often played it in bed, each trying to outdo the other with how much pleasure they could give.
She sent thanks into the heavens above for the out-of-control robotaxi that had literally thrown her into Clay’s arms.
With Clay, she’d finally learned how to trust more, fear less. And love with everything in her.
Troy’s brother Dane had done the research to figure out exactly where Charlie and Sebastian had gone. It wasn’t as if Sebastian had tried to cover their tracks. Maybe he thought no one would be the wiser until they returned and had their big bash.
But then he shouldn’t have underestimated the passel of Mavericks and Harringtons and their vast resources.
Although, without Francine Ballard’s insight, they would have been none the wiser.
Troy readied himself, adjusting the massive jewel-encrusted silver buckle at his waist, straightening his embroidered jacket, and slicking back his Elvis do.
After changing into their outfits on the plane, the gang gathered outside the Las Vegas chapel, Gideon using military-style hand gestures for the countdown. Three, two, one. Then he flung open the door, and the entire Maverick clan charged inside.
The Elvis Chapel was perfectly tacky, with a cutout of the King playing a pink guitar up there on the dais with the bride and groom. A photographer flashed pictures while a short man in a white tux trimmed in gold brocade stood before the happy couple. Sebastian towered over Charlie, who was radiant in an emerald gown that made her red-gold curls shimmer.
Snapping a picture, the photographer caught the couple in mid-gape as they surveyed their surprise guests.
The Mavericks had dressed in the flashy Elvis garb appropriate for the occasion. Even Dylan got in on the act, wearing an electric-blue jumpsuit contrasting with his very pink embarrassed blush. Jeremy was decked out in a gold-studded black jumpsuit, its wide bell bottom pants lined in gold. The ladies wore poodle skirts and tight sweaters. Though Saskia had gone for lime-green leggings and a yellow crop top reminiscent of Ann-Margret in the movie Viva Las Vegas.
Clay hadn’t taken his eyes off her.
The Spencers had dressed in snowy white, Bob in a tux and Susan in an elegant, slim-fitting cocktail dress à la Audrey Hepburn. Francine, also wearing white, had tied shimmery multicolored ribbons to her walker.
The only one not a slave to Elvis fashion was Fernsby, wearing his usual black suit and stern expression and holding T. Rex—oops, Lord Rexford.
Daniel Spencer stood with legs spread, arms akimbo. “Did you two really think you could get married without all of us here?”
Charlie recovered quickly, arching one eyebrow. “You’re late. We had to go ahead without you.” Then she smiled at the officiant. “Now that our family have arrived, you may proceed,” she said in a prim, authoritative voice as if she were a British princess.
The officiant was so nervous at being surrounded by so many Elvises and poodle skirts that he fumbled through the usual lines as though he couldn’t get to the final one fast enough. “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” came out almost as one word.
Tony Collins called out, “Kiss the bride, dammit.”
In a theatrical gesture that made the ladies titter, Sebastian bent Charlie backward over his arm and planted a kiss on her that was fast becoming steamy until Francine piped up, “Get a room, you two.”
The entire group burst into applause. Troy noted that even Fernsby applauded, though he’d had nothing to do with matchmaking that couple.
The thought made Troy tremble. He prayed Fernsby wouldn’t look at him.
As the party moved outside to the chapel’s fake lawn, Troy sidled up to Gabby, who wore a pink skirt patterned with party poodles.