Chapter 27
BEN
The car barely comes to a full stop before I’m out of it.
The chapel glows like something pulled straight out of a neon dream.
There are white columns trimmed in gold light, soft pink bulbs tracing the roofline, and palm fronds swaying gently in the cool Vegas night.
The sign above us blinks in all its cursive grandeur:
Graceland Wedding Chapel
My heart is beating double time. Grace steps out beside me, smoothing her silver dress, and for a second, she looks like she stepped out of a fairy tale written just for me. Jesus, what was in those drinks? I’ve turned into a hormonal girl drunk on love.
The two of us approach the doors when she hesitates.
“We don’t have to do this, Grace,” I interject.
And I mean it. I take both of her hands in mine, turning to face her.
“When I said marry me, I was only explaining that I needed you to come to another dinner before Milton would sign the property over. But even that is up to you. I’ll find another location if this one doesn’t work out.
I’d never want you to feel like I cornered you into anything.
I had no right to blurt that out. I’m sorry.
” I leave out the fact that those two words were more likely a Freudian slip, having nothing whatsoever to do with Milton.
She squeezes my hand. “I don’t know how to explain this, Ben. But for some reason,” she blinks slowly up at me, “this just feels right.”
My brows lift. My brain scrambles for logic. “Are you—”
“Yes. I’m sure. No, I’m not drunk. Whatever you’re thinking, stop.” She smiles, steps forward, and wraps her fingers around the polished brass door handle. “Let’s do this.”
Holy hell.
I’m getting married to my dream girl.
This is actually happening.
Inside, the chapel is awash with velvet and over the top crystal. There’s a red carpet leading to an ivory altar framed in faux marble columns. Twinkle lights are woven through white silk flowers, and the air smells faintly like artificial roses, vanilla, and Vegas magic.
I pick up an informational brochure from the counter.
Established in 1939, Graceland Wedding Chapel holds the distinction of being the oldest wedding chapel in Las Vegas.
Globally recognized as the first chapel to host an Elvis-themed wedding ceremony, which began in 1977, it has become a cornerstone of Las Vegas weddings.
This charming venue has been a beloved destination for nearly 90 years, offering both traditional wedding packages and the now-iconic Elvis-themed weddings, Elvis vow renewals, and non-legal Elvis commitment ceremonies.
As the original Elvis chapel in Las Vegas, Graceland Wedding Chapel proudly stands by its motto, “Often Imitated, Never Duplicated!”
An older woman approaches. “Evening, you two. I’m Vera. Looking to get hitched?”
“Yes,” we blurt, laughing like a couple of lovestruck teenagers.
“So you want the Top-of-the-Line Elvis Experience?”
I blink once before turning to Grace. Because there’s no way I’m answering for her. Whispering in her direction, I snicker. “Was there any doubt?”
She giggles. “Yes,” Grace answers. “We absolutely do.”
“We have the Viva Las Vegas package, the Loving You package, or I’m thinking you two look like the Can’t Help Falling in Love type of couple.”
“Is that one the best?” I ask.
“Well, the best thing you’re going to get around here,” she drawls. This woman’s voice is hoarse, like she needs us to get a move on already because she’s overdue for her smoke break.
“What do you say, Gracie?”
She simply nods enthusiastically.
“Okay, we’ll take it.”
“Do you have your marriage license?”
My face turns ashen as we both look at one another. How did I not think of that? Um, because this was nowhere on your radar an hour ago, smart guy. I lift my arm to check the time. 10:00 p.m. Shit.
“Don’t panic, young man. It’ll be tight, but something tells me you can make it fit.”
My eyes spring wide. What exactly is she talking about here?
She waves her hand in front of me. “Pull it out.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your phone. Pull it out. You can take care of filling everything out online and then go pick it up. You don’t need any blood tests or anything. They’re open ‘til midnight, but I walk out these doors at 11:00 p.m. on the dot. So you better get moving.” She claps.
I glance back at Grace. “What do you say? It’ll be like an episode of the Amazing Race.” I chuckle.
“Yes.” She beams. “And at the end, I’ll win a hot husband.”
“You think I’m hot?”
Vera clears her throat. “You lovebirds can do all that on your honeymoon.” She taps her watch. “Clock’s ticking.”
“Oh, yeah.” I grab Grace’s hand and we dash toward the door.
“We’ll fill out the form in the car on the way to the Marriage License Bureau.
” I attempt to type in all of the information on the way, but it takes longer than I expected given the two of us keep getting distracted, laughing and kissing in the back seat of this Uber.
“We’re here,” the driver announces.
“Already? That took like five minutes.” My eyes spring up to meet his in the rearview mirror. He doesn’t even attempt to hide his deadpan stare. I’m sure the novelty of this got old years ago. “Give me a sec to finish this and then we’ll run inside. I promise to tip you well.”
That at least garners a nod.
Within forty minutes, we’re back in front of the Graceland Wedding Chapel. “You ready?” I ask.
“Ready,” she exclaims with a broad smile.
I cup her face and kiss her. Because how could I not?
Once inside, Grace is ushered into a small dressing room while I’m guided to the front pew. The attendant grins like he knows my life has changed forever.
A man in a rhinestone-covered white jumpsuit appears.
Not just any Elvis. This is quite the impersonator.
If the singer hadn’t been dead for decades, I’d have thought he was living out his later years here.
The celebrity look-a-like is wearing the gold belt, the white cape, and has the perfect pompadour.
His sunglasses are tilted low. This whole thing is completely surreal.
He points at me. “You ready, brother?”
I chuckle. “I’ve never been more ready for anything.”
The lights dim. A live guitarist strums the opening chords of “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”
The doors open. And Grace steps out holding a bouquet of red roses. Her silver dress catches the fluorescent light. Her golden hair is loose around her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes are shining.
I forget how to breathe.
When she reaches me, Grace slides her fingers into mine, and I swear my heart actually free falls. That helicopter ride earlier has nothing on this moment.
Elvis clears his throat. “We are gathered here tonight…”
Smiling down at my bride to be I realize with dizzying certainty my life will never be the same.
We return to the hotel room in uncomfortable silence. It’s honestly a bit awkward. Is she wondering what on earth she just did? Marrying me on a whim?
She lays her bouquet of roses on the table, and I try not to stare. I don’t want to make her embarrassed. Instead, I twirl the cheap gold band on my finger the Uber driver located for us at a pawn shop down the road from the licensing board.
Yes, I somehow lost my mind between Hanover and Las Vegas.
When I look up, I notice Grace’s eyes are trained on my fingers, where they play with my ring. What is she thinking? Has the reality of what we’ve done finally sunk in? Is she regretting what just happened? Have I added untoward more stress to this sweet girl’s life?
She walks slowly toward me, her expression unreadable. Once she’s standing toe to toe, I’m tempted to pull her into me. But I need a moment to discern what’s going through that pretty little head of hers.
Then, as if someone shot off a gun to mark the start of a race, we’re both on each other, pulling at each other’s hair and devouring the other’s lips. There’s no more soft and sweet from earlier in the day. This is pent-up attraction that is impossible to tamp down.
“Grace. I want you. God, how I want you.” I breathe into her neck before dragging my tongue along the soft slope of her throat to her collarbone.
“Yes.”
“Please. I’ll beg. Can I make love to you?”
“You don’t have to beg. I’ve been dreaming of this for so long.”
I step back, shocked to hear these words fall from her lips. “You have?”
“Yes.”
“Thank god. I’m praying you’re a forgiving person. Because I’m terrified, I’m going to humiliate myself when I only last two minutes. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my whole damn life.” I bury my face in her hair as I grip her ass with my hands and pull her perfect body against mine.
“Then stop talking and take my clothes off.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She spins, presenting her back to me. My hands shake under the force of my greedy anticipation as I lower her zipper. Her smooth skin comes into view, and I immediately discover she isn’t wearing a bra. I catch Grace looking over her shoulder at me in confusion. “What’s the matter?”
“I can’t believe I’m finally going to see you naked.”
Her face contorts in shock. “But didn’t you already see me? In that magazine?” Her previously radiant glow clouds under a fog of shame. I can’t wait until the day that awful experience is nothing more than a distant memory for her.
“No, babe. I’d never disrespect you like that.”
She takes a stunned step back. “What? But you said you and your friend managed to track down all of the magazines and destroyed them. I thought for sure—”
“Grace. I’m in love with you. As crazy as this relationship is, you mean everything to me. I’d never look at your beautiful body without consent.”
Tears well in her eyes. But I don’t have a chance to comfort her before she throws herself at me, practically climbing me like a tree.
Grace