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“Yes!” Fiona shouts, making me stumble with surprise.
I laugh and keep laughing. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you.”
I drop the bags again to sweep her up into my arms and swing her around, forcing a group of drunken brides-to-be to wind their way around us. “You’re going to marry me,” I say into her hair.
“I said yes!”
I stop the swinging and stand in the early morning light, holding Fiona so her feet barely touch the ground, and hug her tight. Like I don’t want to let her go. “I’m going make you so happy.” My voice is as gruff as if I’ve lost my voice, and I kiss her before I say anything more. And then I kiss her again, reveling in the way her mouth responds to mine.
“Get a room,” someone shouts, and Fiona is smiling as she pulls away.
“We can do lots of that later,” I tell her, taking her hand firmly in mine.
“Okay.” This time she sounds happy and more than a little flustered. “Maybe not on the sidewalk, though.”
I like to fluster. It’s a talent of mine. “Oh, definitely on the sidewalk. And in the back alleys. And maybe even in the middle of the street, if I can stop traffic long enough.”
“I think you can do anything,” Fiona says.
I feel like I can. Being with Fiona feels better than hitting the game-winning home run or outsmarting my grandfather.
It feels the best.
“But what I’d really like to do now…” I trail off with a wiggle of my eyebrows just to watch Fiona’s cheeks turn pink. She’s so pale with the reddish hair that it’s easy to make her blush. “Is get some food.”
“You want to eat?”
“A pre-wedding breakfast sounds great to me. I thought of getting Elvis to invite us back into his Elvis lair,” I say as we start to walk. I need to stop looking at Fiona, so I can find a place to feed her.
“Do you often get people to invite you into their lairs?”
“Oh, all the time. It’s very difficult to say no to me. You’d best remember that.”
She laughs; a genuine belly-shaking laugh that makes me smile when I hear it. “I don’t think I’ll have a problem forgetting it.”
Chapter Ten
Fiona
I’mgoingtomarryMase Stirling.
If we’d gone and done it when he first asked, somehow managed to convince Elvis and Elvira to marry us, that would have been the first truly spontaneous thing I’ve done in my life.
I would have regretted it. Or at least questioned my judgment.
But now, I’ve had time to think about it.
And while I still think it’s a bad idea, possibly the worst one ever, it feelsright. That Mase and I found each other at the right time, in the right place for good things to happen.
I hope. Because I said yes, and I don’t go back on my word.
We find a diner down the street from the City Clerk’s office and settle into a booth to wait. Mase orders enough food for three people. His request for a bottle of champagne is completely natural, like he expects it wherever he goes.
Maybe he does.
But even though this is Las Vegas, it’s still a diner with a one-page menu and it’s not even seven in the morning. The best they can do is offer is a sparkling cider, which I decline. Mase orders a beer.
