Page 8 of Conveniently Theirs (Viva Las… Oh, Sh!t)

eight

Kendall

W hile we waited for the officiant to finish with the couple who arrived only moments before us, Josh and I were treated to more champagne.

I should have declined the first glass since we finished off a bottle of excellent, really expensive wine at the restaurant.

Now on our second full flutes, we sit together on a white wicker loveseat.

I’m a few sips away from being drunk and false courage compels me to make a confession.

But before I’m able to hold Josh’s attention long enough to tell him I’m in love with him, we’re whisked away into the ‘chapel’. At least the music flowing softly from the speakers is appropriate, some classical piece you hear all the time at weddings.

In two minutes, we’re done. We’ve placed the rings on each other’s fingers, said ‘I do’, and been declared married.

I’m not sure what I expected, but the time and effort spent on the actual wedding seems abrupt and robotic.

Maybe it’s because this isn’t a real wedding, although Devin and Josh would have compensated the man far beyond what those two minutes should have earned.

Once the officiant and witnesses—the woman at the desk and a young man who worked the lights and music—sign our license we’re done. Anxious and feeling strangely off-kilter, I try to hurry Josh toward the door. But before we’ve even crossed the waiting area, the officiant moves in front of us.

“You’ve both been drinking heavily,” he says.

Josh straightens his shoulders. “Not that much. Just in celebration of our big day.”

“Uh huh.” The man motions to the receptionist then holds out his palm to Josh. “Keys. I never allow my couples to drive away drunk. Your keys please. We’ll call a ride share for you.”

The receptionist moves to his side and hands him a business card that he holds up. Josh sways slightly and reaches for it .

“Keys first, young man.”

I tug on Josh’s sleeve. “It’s a good idea. We have had too much to be safe drivers. Please, Josh. Give him the keys.”

When he blows out a long breath, Josh’s shoulders slump. “You’re right, darlin’. Here.” He drops the keychain onto the man’s palm.

“Here’s the information you’ll need once you’ve, ahem, regained your equilibrium, in order to retrieve your vehicle. It’ll be safe here. And, your driver has arrived.”

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Castillo. Have a happy life.” The receptionist hands me the envelope with our license as we’re practically shoved through the door.

It makes me wonder what else the officiant might have going on in his establishment.

Or maybe it’s because we’re doing something that’s probably illegal.

There’s got to be tons of people who get the paperwork but never actually get married.

We’re basically doing the same thing. Only with signatures.

Once we’re seated in the back of a late model sedan, the driver half turns to grin at us. “Congratulations on your marriage. Looks like I’m your ride to your honeymoon. Where are you staying? ”

“Aria,” Josh says then leans over to fasten my seatbelt. “Safety first.”

The driver nods his head. “That’s right. Okay folks, let’s get you back to your hotel.”

Josh rubs his stomach. “Wish we had some cake. Who gets married without a cake?”

Chuckling, the driver rubs his hand over his short gray hair. “Sorry I can’t help you there. Might be something suitable from your room service, though.”

“No,” I say as an idea bursts into my brain. “What we need right now are donuts.” I lean forward as much as possible with the restraint in place and tap the driver’s shoulder. “Is there anywhere we can get donuts this time of night?”

“Best donuts in town. Open twenty-four seven. My grandkids love ‘em.”

“Excellent. Take us there please,” Josh says.

The driver switches his turn signal from one direction to the other and crosses an official turn lane to drive in the opposite direction. I’m impressed with his skill and daring. “How many grandkids do you have, Mr….” I ask, truly interested.

“Name’s Wes Georgeston. Call me Wes. We’ve been blessed with seven so far,” he says with a broad grin that fades quickly.

“Three of them are staying with us until our son gets his life together. Being a single parent is rough, so my wife and I are helping however we can. Years ago I drove a taxi and now I’m picking up a few hours a week driving folks around Vegas.

Gives us a little extra for the kids. But, you don’t need to hear my sob story.

Life is what it is and we do the best we can. ”

I don’t know what to say. Josh squeezes my hand and remains silent too. Even so, the atmosphere in the car isn’t strained or somber.

At a stoplight, Wes twists around to look at us.

“I just gotta say this. You two are starting on a great adventure. I predict you’ll be together—well, it’s just that you look at each other the same way my wife and I do.

With love, respect, and hopeful dreams. And we’ve been together for forty-seven years. ”

I catch my lower lip between my teeth to keep from blurting out that our marriage is a fake. To keep our deception believable, I’ve got to get a handle on my reactions to statements like that.

“Thank you, sir,” Josh says. “And congratulations on those years together. You’re an inspiration.”

We pull into a nearly full parking lot and score an empty spot where we can see people waiting for donuts. The line stretches out the door and half-way down the length of the building. These must be good donuts. Wes gives a soft snort. “Looks like it might take a while. Do you want?—”

Josh has already opened his door. “I’ve got this. You two relax and I’ll be back. As quick as I can, anyway.” He’s jogging toward the end of the line before I can even draw a breath.

Wes and I discover a shared love of sixties music and are having a private karaoke session blasting Gene Pitney’s “Town Without Pity” when Josh returns about fifteen minutes later.

He’s carrying two large donut boxes and three cups in a cardboard carrier.

I hold up my hand until we finish the final ‘can do’ of the song.

He grins and places one box on the front seat then holds out the carrier so Wes can take one of the cups. “The donuts are for your grandkids.”

“You didn’t have to?—”

“Oh, but I did. Consider it part of your tip.”

“In that case, thank you. They’ll be plenty of excitement in the house come breakfast time.”

Then Josh looks back at me and shakes his head. “You and your love of that ancient music. ”

“Ancient?” Wes arches his brows. “That’s a golden oldie.”

Taking the cup holder from him, I agree with Wes. Josh carefully balances the donut box on his lap before saying, “Nah, that’s ancient. Oldies are songs from the eighties.”

I roll my gaze heavenward and Wes chuckles. “Let’s get you back to your hotel. You’ve got a honeymoon to get to.”

Heat fills my face and when I stare at Wes’s grin in his rearview mirror, he winks. After a fortifying sip of the hot coffee, I manage a smile. “Yes, we do.”

If only that were true.

At the hotel we wave as Wes drives away. Josh leans close to my ear. “I’m sure he’s watching.” Then he nuzzles my neck. My body comes alive.

“Putting on a show, huh?”

“Mmm, maybe.” He straightens. “That man is inspiring.”

“It was nice of you to get donuts for his grandkids.”

Josh steadies our box of donuts—which I can’t wait to dig into—and we enter the lobby. He doesn’t say anything until we’re on the elevator. “I put a surprise for him in with the donuts. ”

“What?”

“I had a couple hundreds in my wallet. They’re not there any more.” He shrugs. “I know he wouldn’t have accepted such a large tip.”

“Sneaky. I approve. You’re a good man, Josh Castillo.”

Part of me is surprised we don’t find Devin in the suite and from the wrinkle in Josh’s forehead, he’s concerned as well.

Setting the donut box on the counter in the kitchenette, he opens the lid exposing huge, heavily decorated donuts.

“Oh my gosh,” I whisper. “That one. The pink one. That’s mine. ”

He chooses a chocolate-chocolate version and we move to the living room to enjoy our treats and coffee. Thankfully time, the food, and caffein help lessen the effects of all the alcohol. I need a clear brain for what I want to say. “Josh.”

“Can I say something first?” Despite the sticky donut remnants, he takes my hand.

The question feels like a reprieve. “Of course.”

Instead of speaking we’re both silent for a long time.

Once I’ve licked the last of the donut sweetness from my fingers I snuggle into his embrace.

We’ve sat like this so many times over the years.

Safe and comfortable with each other. Friend supporting friend.

How do I tell him I ache for more when I fear that could change us ? I can’t lose us .

“You’re even more beautiful than usual, Kendall.”

Plucking at the silky fabric of my dress, I bite back a disparaging comment about myself. “Thank you. It’s the dress.’

He sills my restless hand. “It has nothing to do with the dress. Or the makeup. It’s you. I don’t know how I can ever properly thank you for doing this. We should have… uh… probably talked more about how this is going to affect your life.”

I shrug one shoulder and wrap my arm over his abs.

The tight muscles twitch and he inhales sharply.

His heartbeat is strong and steady under my ear.

I could stay like this forever. “I’ve been wondering why your uncle came up with this marriage idea.

When I’ve been around he’s never made any indication he doesn’t approve of you and Devin. ”

“That’s it. He doesn’t. I asked but he wouldn’t say anything except he wanted me to get married to a woman. Thank you again, darlin’. I’ll come up with some way to make all this up to you.”

“Don’t stress over it, Josh. Hopefully the certificate will be enough proof.”

I sense his confusion and sit up. “You know. Like in the middle ages or with royalty.”

His grin is soft and the confusion lingers in his eyes. “What are you blathering about?

“Oh, you know. How someone had to watch to make sure the marriage was consummated.” Heat rises to fill my cheeks. The thought of consummating our marriage—for just about any reason I could imagine—hasn’t really left my mind since we said, ‘I do’.

“Or,” I continue, “Someone had to inspect the sheets for virgin’s blood. Although maybe that was more virgin important than marriage proof.”

“Kendall.”

Needing to cover my reaction to the topic, I simply keep talking. “I suppose there must have been other ‘tests’ but I have no ide?—”

Josh’s mouth covers mine in a sudden but gentle kiss. I’m frozen in surprise until the soft searching movements of his lips invite me to join in the kiss. As though sensing my emotional surrender, he eases away.

I lift my fingers to the tingling of my lips. I wouldn’t dare touch the other tingles dancing through my body. Not in front of Josh anyway.

His expressive dark eyes are—hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d say they’re filled with passion. Probably just reflecting what I’m attempting to control within myself. “Josh?”

He clears his throat and fiddles with his rings, a sure tell of his nerves. “Kendall, I need to tell you something.”