Page 20 of Billion Dollar Vow (The Lincoln Brothers #4)

Oliver

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I say on the phone to my brother, Jeremy. I’m dressed in my wedding suit, pacing the pavement on the ground floor of the Bellagio. I called Jeremy yesterday and filled him in on the wedding because I needed someone to confide in.

“I wouldn’t say I’m happy about it, but I support you.”

“I’m not trapping her in to this. She’s willing to do it,” I say, guilt tightening around my throat.

“I didn’t say she wasn’t, but you threw money at her.”

I rub my forehead with my other hand. “I know, but she deserves her own place. She works hard.”

“I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but I worry this is going to end badly.”

I frown as I dodge people coming into the hotel. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t. And what’s going on with you? How are the wedding preparations coming along?”

He’s getting married in a few weeks, and his bachelor party is next weekend.

“Yeah, everything is set. You didn’t let Evan throw you a bachelor party.”

As he says it, my heart squeezes. Not for my bachelor party, but for Karley. Have I taken away her chance at having a bachelorette? But this is all fake. When she remarries, she can have one... My stomach knots weirdly again at the thought.

With a sigh, I stop pacing the sidewalk as movement catches my eye. I look up and freeze, all thoughts vanishing as my breath catches in my throat.

“You there?” my brother asks in my ear.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “But I’ve got to go.” Karley walks toward me, giving me time to let my eyes drift slowly over her.

Her white high heels make her legs seem longer.

Her white dress, silk and flowy, slips effortlessly over her hourglass figure.

The thin straps make her look delicate, and the dress compliments her complexion.

Her hair is in a low bun, and by the time I take in her red lips and natural makeup, it’s hard for me to breathe.

I’ve never seen her look like this. I have to swallow hard and refocus.

As I bring my gaze up to hers, my lips twist into an easy grin. “You are breathtaking.”

“Do you think so?” She smooths her hands over the dress.

“You look like my wife,” I reply with a wink, surprising myself with how right the words feel coming out of my mouth; how much I mean them despite this arrangement.

She smiles, a blush blooming across her cheeks. Her eyes gaze over my suit. “You clean up alright, too.”

I tip my head back and chuckle, warmth spreading through my chest at her approval. “It’s a nice way to compliment me. I thought I looked rather handsome.”

She shakes her head with a grin. “Let’s get married.”

“Hang on,” I say, a sudden impulse taking hold that I can’t entirely explain to myself. “You’re missing something.” She looks down, scanning the floor like there’s a problem with her dress.

I drop to one knee. Her eyes widen, her face pales, and her mouth falls open until she covers it with her hands, a gasp muffled behind them. I smile, enjoying the moment of catching her by surprise. There’s something strangely satisfying about seeing her speechless.

I hold out the open box from Winston’s toward her, the ring she chose sparkling up at her.

“What are you doing?” she finally asks, dropping her hands and darting her eyes around.

“Karley,” I say, ignoring the strange flutter in my chest. Even knowing this is all for show, there’s something about saying these words that feels important. “Will you do me the honor and be my wife?”

“Yes. But why?” she says under her breath as I take the ring from the box. “Oh my God, people are staring.”

“It’s okay. Just give me your hand,” I say.

She initially fights me before allowing me to slip the engagement ring onto her finger.

The ring we chose together. God, it looks perfect against her freshly painted, clear nails.

Her hands are just as hot and clammy as mine.

I know it’s hot out today, with the sun blazing down on us. But this isn’t the weather’s fault.

“You can get up now,” she whispers. I purposely stand extra slowly, just to annoy her, because even though I know she doesn't like the attention, I think she's more than deserving to have everyone see her in this moment.

She's stunning, but more than that, I want everyone to know she's mine… even if it's fake.

I don’t miss the way she admires the ring on her left hand for a second. “It really is beautiful. This is such a waste.”

“Why’s it a waste?” I ask. Something about seeing it on her finger feels right, not wasteful at all.

“Because it’s too beautiful to just be an everyday ring,” she mumbles.

“Sell it then, put it toward your house.” The thought of her removing it, of someone else wearing the ring I placed on her finger, creates an unexpected tightness in my chest.

She looks up at me, then at the ring.

She sighs. “I don’t think I could sell it either.”

I smile softly, relieved by her answer in a way I’m not ready to think about. “Do whatever you want with it, but we should get going now.”

“Alright, alright,” she says, and we move to the car. I open the door for her, watching as she gathers the bottom of her dress with her hands.

“Need help?” I offer my arm for support.

She nods, accepting my help as she gets into her seat. I lean in closer to help arrange her dress, catching a hint of her perfume, something sweet and delicate.

After closing the door, I walk around to my side, using those few seconds to breathe. When I slip into the seat beside her, the car feels smaller. Her dress takes up space between us, yet I’m aware of how close we are.

After she buckles in, I notice her leg bouncing nervously, her fingers twisting together in her lap.

Without thinking, I place my hand gently on her thigh, just above her knee, hoping to calm her.

Her head twists to me, and I flash her a reassuring smile.

She surprises me by letting me leave my hand there, rather than shoving it off.

The drive to the Graceland Wedding Chapel is short, only about ten minutes. We could've walked, but I didn’t want her walking in heels with extra eyes on her. She’d hate the attention, and I can’t afford to let anything get in the way of us marrying today.

“Cora is meeting us there,” I remind her. She stares out the window until the car stops. I remove my hand from her and slip out, my heart beating fast.

Is this nerves? Anticipation? Something else entirely?

I quickly dust my sweaty palms on my pants before grabbing her hand. I interlock our fingers on our way to the door.

We’re about to head inside the white chapel trimmed with blue, when I spot Cora coming out with some flowers.

My shoulders drop with a mix of relief and gratitude.

I didn’t want it to feel like I hadn’t thought of everything, so I made sure Cora took care of the important pieces.

I can also see the veil sitting in Cora's hand, and for some reason, the idea of lifting it off Karley’s face makes everything feel real.

“You made it,” Cora calls out, hurrying toward us with a bright smile. She waves at Karley first, then turns to give me a quick hug. “Everything’s ready inside.”

Karley and Cora exchange excited whispers as they admire each other’s outfits, and I find myself watching Karley’s bashful expression.

As they talk about what we’re about to do, their words hit me. I’m going to have to kiss her. My heart just about beats right out of my chest.

I need to breathe. I excuse myself, gasping for air, leaving her with Cora.

As I step inside for a moment alone, it all hits me at once.

I close my eyes and imagine the gallery, my mom’s face, all of her students' pieces, including Karley’s, on display.

When I picture Karley’s work, I think bold, bright, and intricate paintings.

They deserve a head start, and this is how I can help them.

I reopen my eyes, taking in the beige and white décor.

At the front of the chapel, I find the Elvis impersonator waiting on the small brown stage.

I head over to meet him, and we exchange quick hellos.

He looks ridiculous, and I’d never have chosen him, but Karley deserved to pick one ridiculous thing out of this entire crazy arrangement.

If she wants to go full Vegas, I’m here for it.

“Clair de Lune” starts. One of my mother’s favorites, a piece I’ve heard countless times.

I’m staring at the doors as they open. The soft tone of the music, plus her standing at the other end, makes emotion clog my throat.

She heads toward me, looking so different with the veil down and a bouquet in her hands.

I am getting married. She’s going to be my wife.

Even with the air conditioner blowing cool air, my back heats beneath my suit. I worry I’m going to be a sweaty mess by the end of this. I take slow, deep breaths, watching her walk toward me.

There’s something different about seeing her this way, moving toward me, compared to when I first saw her outside the hotel. This feels significant. And in this light, she’s absolutely stunning.

I can see her chest rise and fall; she’s just as nervous as I am, which helps me calm down a bit. As she comes closer, I see her eyes are misty, and I smile, watching her try to blink it away.

“Hey,” I whisper as she reaches me. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s just... the veil.”

My eyes flick to Cora, who narrows her eyes at me, silently telling me to leave it.

Karley passes the bouquet to Cora, and I take Karley's hands in mine. She stands directly in front of me, both of our gazes on Elvis. My heart is pounding, and I concentrate on breathing, scared I might pass out.

I can only assume she’s feeling the same way.

The ceremony begins, and the whole time, I can only hear the loud beating of my heart.