Page 5

The lobby is sectioned off from the chapel by glass doors that look like they came off of someone’s back porch.

The kind of sliding doors that usually lead out to a deck, but instead they’re partitioning the front entrance from the chapel portion of the building.

Blood red carpet ripples in uneven spots on the floor, and a handful of wooden pews look like they were reclaimed from a church that closed.

At the end of the chapel’s aisle is a giant heart wrapped in white Christmas lights that hang on a pink curtain.

Fake palm trees have been set up sporadically around the room.

I guess to give it a little green and combat the overwhelming red and pink theme.

The whole place smells like alcohol, and the faint taint of cigarettes being smoked in here years ago.

No amount of scrubbing has been able to oust that scent, although I’m not sure they tried that hard.

The wallpaper has little hearts and cupids on it and is yellowing slightly.

Big Jim definitely brought us to an old-school chapel. He probably gets a kickback from Mabel. I’m guessing there are some slightly more upscale wedding venues these days in Vegas, but honestly, I like the vibes of this place. Piper even has a small smile on her face.

“We’d like to get married,” I say, and the woman squeezes her hands together against her ample chest.

“How exciting. You two are meant for each other. I can always tell, you know. I swear I can predict whether every couple that walks through those doors will get a divorce. And I can tell the two of you are in it for life. That’s so beautiful.”

I don’t bother correcting her assumption about our relationship. There’s really no point. Especially because I don’t even understand why Piper and I are getting married.

The woman reaches behind her stand and grabs a laminated piece of paper. She holds it out for me and Piper, and I grab it when Piper doesn’t.

“This is the list of our services. You have the bronze package here. That’s just your bare bones walk down the aisle.

Say I do. You don’t want that.” She waves her hand as though getting rid of a bad smell.

“Now the silver is a step up. We’ll have some music.

We have our very own guitar player. He’s my son and let me just tell you.

He is an incredible musician.” Mabel beams as though there’s a Grammy award-winning artist in that next room.

I peer over her shoulder and see a bored young man with long stringy hair.

He’s surfing on his phone while another couple in matching rhinestone-pocketed jeans are getting married.

“Now, this is the one I would suggest.” She taps her manicured nail on the laminated paper.

There’s a bulleted list of all the items included in the wedding; a bouquet, choice of veil, music, personal vows, and a whole slew of other things that sound overly fussy for the situation Piper and I are in.

“None of this is necessary,” Piper gently says. “We just want to do the quickest, so whatever one that is.”

Mabel turns horrified eyes on Piper. “Oh, you poor dear.” She shoots a glare in my direction, as though any of this is my fault.

I raise my hands up. “She can have whatever she wants.” I cock my head and grin at Piper. “How many times will we truly get married?”

I mean it as a joke, but the words taste ashen in my mouth.

Whatever the reason that Piper wants me to marry her, it’s not true love.

Maybe I should be concerned, but my magic is humming away happily in my chest. Not that it’s great at keeping me from making horrible decisions, but I know this is the right thing to do.

There’s something deeper at play here. It’s tied to whatever bullshit ownership nonsense she was talking about back at the chateau.

While I’m game to jump into this marriage, I don’t know what this means for our future.

Do we need to stay married for a month, a year?

Does she expect us to be married forever, living in two separate houses, going about our lives with just a piece of paper connecting us?

That image pisses me off, and a little growl rumbles in my throat. Piper’s eyes widen. I try to hide it with a chuckle. “We’ll go for the gold package.” I smile at Mabel.

“Of course you will. How wonderful. Now you have rings, don’t you?

” Mabel looks at Piper’s bare fingers, and I feel the judgment wash over me.

Why doesn’t she have an engagement ring?

As though Mabel doesn’t deal with people coming into her chapel all the time who made a last-minute decision to get married.

Because if we were doing this the right way, and I asked Piper to marry me, I absolutely would get her an engagement ring.

I would get her a fucking beautiful engagement ring.

But since I just found out we’re getting married hours ago, I haven’t had the time.

“I have a feeling you might have some rings to offer us, Mabel. Could we see your selection?” Mabel might truly adore love, but she’s a businesswoman at heart.

“Oh, that’s not necessary.” Piper shakes her head, but Mabel swoops around her pedestal and hooks Piper's arm through hers.

“No, that's nonsense. Let’s go find something real pretty for you.”

Mabel leads Piper over to a glass counter, and I follow behind obediently.

With a few clicks of a key that’s fastened to a belt around Mabel’s waist, she unlocks a door and slides open the case.

Gently, as if she’s dealing with crown jewels, Mabel sets a tray of rings on the counter.

They’re all nestled into a green velvet holder.

Piper barely looks before she turns toward me with panic on her face. “I really don’t need one.”

Mabel makes a disapproving sound and raises an eyebrow in my direction. This woman is formidable.

“You do. Let’s find one that fits you perfectly.”

I lean down and inspect the rings. Some are laden with diamonds and gaudy as hell.

That doesn’t seem like Piper’s style at all.

There are bands in both white and yellow gold.

Some are plain and others have an intricate design.

Piper isn’t the type to have something loud and ostentatious, but I don’t see her wearing a simple gold band, either.

Like Piper herself, she needs something more surprising.

Something that at first glance, maybe looks like it’s nothing special.

But when you study it a little closer, you see that it’s a gem.

My fingers float over the rings, pausing on a gold band with a series of small diamonds set at evenly spaced intervals.

They look like tiny stars. Piper makes a small sound when she sees the ring.

I pull it out of the velvet and on the inside is an inscription.

I read it out loud. “Fated in the stars.”

Maybe that’s a bit much.

Piper’s face goes pale. “That’s… I don’t need…”

I saw the way her eyes lit up, so I grab her hand and ease the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly. “I’d say that’s a match made in heaven. That ring belongs to you.” I grin, and Piper sighs.

I’m about to turn away when Mabel grabs my sleeve and yanks me back. “Not so fast, Mr. Hot Stuff. You need your ring, too.”

I don’t dare object based on the look on Mabel’s face.

Piper might be a minimalist kind of girl, but I’m definitely not. There’s a gold art-deco inspired band with tiny diamonds interspersed at the end of vines. It’s beautiful.

“Just my style.” I chuckle. Piper picks up the ring and slides it onto my hand. I know we haven’t even gotten to the wedding yet, but there’s something about that action that feels life changing.

Permanent.

“Will you look at that? Two perfect fits. That never happens. You two must have good luck. I can sense it, you know. I do know these things.”

I grin at Piper, who gives a weak smile. If Mabel knew that both Piper and I were cursed, I doubt she’d think we were so lucky.