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A photographer comes running out from the back room, along with another staff member shoving flowers everywhere. Music plays out of the speakers in the walls, and the lights dim for extra ambiance.
Elvis gives us a crooked smile. “Shall we begin with the vows?”
“Wait!” Punk yanks out his cell. “I have to FaceTime Jo. I already filled in the family. They’d kill us if they missed this.”
“Is it happening?” Jo asks excitedly on the other end of the speaker.
“Oh, it’s happening alright,” I holler enthusiastically, my chest puffed out proudly.
There’s a lot of loud cheering pouring from the phone. I regret not having the rest of my brothers and Simone’s family present. But as I look at my stunning bride, looking like the sexy goddess Venus herself, I wouldn’t change this outcome for nothing.
“The entire crew is here for the big moment,” Jo announces cheerfully.
Butch takes Punk’s cell, turning it to face us. We can see our family back at headquarters. Jo has our nephews in her lap, waving their chubby arms. Atlas sits beside her, with his arm slung around his family like a protective wall. Simone’s parents are both crying, yet they look pleased. The rest of the MC is scattered in the background, waving at us with wide smiles.
I turn back to Simone, finding her crying happy tears. Taking her face in my hands, I brush away those tears and kiss her.
Punk and Candy take their places as our witnesses as the show gets underway.
“Dearly beloved,” Elvis sings, “we are gathered here today to join this biker and old lady in holy matrimony.” Elvis does a few weird hip shimmies before looking pointedly at me. “Do you…” He motions for me to fill in the blank.
“Shawn ‘Chase’ Brighton.”
Elvis continues his song. “Take this Lover Doll to be your wife? To love her softly and tenderly, cherish and honor her from now until eternity?”
Jacked on endorphins, I stomp my foot excitedly. “Fuck yeah, I do. To all the above, plus some rough loving.”
Everyone laughs at my enthusiasm, even my bride.
Elvis sways his swinging hips toward Simone. The motion makes Elvis’s wig wobble on his head like a plate of Jell-O. “And do you…”
“Simone Eira Holland.”
“Take this hunk-a-hunk-a burning love to be your husband? To love him softly and tenderly, cherish and honor him from now until eternity?”
Simone gives me the most breathtaking smile. So much love and promise radiates from her, I can feel it on my skin like a warm sunray. “I do.”
Elvis does some weird air guitar movement with his arms. “The rings?”
I take the rings out of my cut, handing her the ring she’ll put on my finger to solidify us forever.
“Repeat after me,” Elvis says to Simone.
Simone recites the simple vow, then slips the ring onto my finger. I do the same when it’s my turn.
Simone’s eyes bulge when she looks at the rock I placed on her finger. “Jesus!”
“My name’s ‘Chase,’ Numbers,” I tease her, with a wink.
“By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the State of Nevada, I now pronounce you old man and old lady. You may kiss your lovely bride.”
“Mine,” I practically growl before I pounce on Simone, encasing her against my body with my arms and sealing our union with one hell of a kiss.
Simone wraps her arms around my neck, yanking us flush together. My wife doesn’t fight me, instead devouring my mouth the way I’m doing hers.
A camera flashes, confetti is thrown, and everyone claps and whistles. The music volume turns up, drowning out everything else around us.
I’m beyond the luckiest man alive, having this woman in my embrace, wearing my patch and sharing my last name.
