CHAPTER 14 Dex Bradley
I Do
I decide to hold off on calling the rest of my family until later tonight. It can wait, and the longer we put this off, the better the chances we’ll decide not to go through with it.
I change into khaki shorts and a white collared shirt, and I head out to the family room. I find Madison, who is still on summer break, here to watch Jack, who’s currently napping, while Ainsley and I go get married.
It sounds so wild when I say those words in my head.
Speaking of my future wife, she emerges wearing a light pink dress a few minutes later. It’s simple and sweet and so very much her.
So why does my dick respond by shifting around as the blood rushes straight for him? I wish I knew the answer to that.
I blow out a breath, and we head down the back elevator to the parking lot, where we slip into my black Challenger. I drive us to the Clark County Marriage License Bureau downtown, and shortly after that, we’re walking from the bureau down the block. I stop in front of the closest chapel.
“How about here instead of City Hall?” I ask, nodding to the chapel.
Her eyes seem to gleam at that, and she nods.
We head inside, and I immediately spot the recognition in the eyes of the woman behind the desk. She watches me carefully as we approach the desk.
“Welcome to the Best Little Chapel,” she says. “Can I help you?”
My eyes flick to her nametag. “Hi, Peggy. We’re here to get married.”
Her eyes light up. “I’ll comp the fees and give you the deluxe photo package if we can use your photo in our marketing.”
I press my lips together. “That’s something you’ll have to talk to my publicist about.”
“Let’s not get all formal,” she says, pushing a piece of paper across the counter to me. “This just says we can use your image and likeness in our marketing.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “One photo, for one year, and you have to give me a week before you start using it.”
“Deal,” she says, and she reaches her hand across the counter. I shake it, and I detail everything we just said, sign the paper, and ask for a copy.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m standing beside Peggy’s husband, Carl, who is serving as our officiant. Peggy sits in the front row as our witness, and a moment later, Ainsley opens the door and walks into the room to begin her walk down the aisle toward me.
She’s holding onto a gaudy bouquet of fake flowers Peggy lent to her, and my heart skips a beat.
I can’t piece together why it feels that way, but seeing this woman walk toward me tells me this is real. It’s serious. We’re not just fucking around. We’re actually doing this.
I didn’t think it through, which can be said for most things in my life, so it tracks with who I am. On top of that, it’s fake…or rather, it’s pretend. We’re not faking the wedding. This is real, and it’s happening, and she’s going to be my wife.
In name only, of course.
But still.
And it feels unsettling watching her walk toward me as we listen to the opening notes of some love song from the early nineties that Peggy chose for us.
It feels like it shouldn’t be fake.
It makes literally no sense to feel that way.
While I’ve known who Ainsley Riggs is for eight years, I still don’t really know her.
She’s best friends with my sister, sure, but my sister is thirteen years younger than me.
They met when Ains was a junior and my sister was a freshman, and Ains was assigned as Ivy’s big sister at a summer volleyball camp.
They got close and remained the best of friends, and they even attended the same college.
She was often at our house when I stopped by for Bradley family dinners on Monday nights, but I can’t say I ever held a one-on-one conversation with her that didn’t involve something logistical like an excuse me for bumping into her in the kitchen or a sorry for parking my car behind yours in the driveway sort of situation.
I can’t say that anymore. She’s lived with me for almost two weeks now, and while I still don’t know very much about her, I know she’s an incredible caretaker with strong instincts and a killer intuition.
She’s fun, like the day she followed me into New York–New York and we rode the roller coaster.
She’s smart, like how she knows so many things about taking care of a baby.
She’s gorgeous, a genuine knockout, but she has no clue.
And she’s about to become my wife.
Carl doesn’t waste much time with pleasantries.
“We are gathered here today to join—” He pauses and glances at the paper in front of him before he continues.
“Dex Bradley and Ainsley Riggs in matrimony. Marriage is a lawful promise between two people who wish to spend their lives together, and today we are celebrating this young couple’s commitment. ”
He pauses, and we hear the click of a camera, presumably from our witness, Peggy. There are also several cameras set up around us to capture every possible angle of our quickie Vegas-style wedding.
“Do you, Dex, take Ainsley to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Carl asks me.
I pause, and I turn toward Ainsley. When our eyes connect, I say, “I do.”
Ainsley seems to let go of a small breath.
“And do you, Ainsley, take Dex to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
She nods and doesn’t pause. “I do.”
“It’s now time to exchange the rings. Dex, place your bride’s ring on her finger and let it be a reminder of your promise today.”
I slide the cheap gold band Peggy sold me onto Ainsley’s finger.
“Ainsley, place your groom’s ring on his finger and let it be a reminder of your promise today.”
She slides the matching band onto my finger.
“By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
We smile at each other, and I feel the tiniest bit of awkwardness as I know what comes next. We didn’t discuss this part, but I’m supposed to kiss my bride. Carl didn’t say it, but everyone knows it’s what comes at the end of the ceremony. You seal it with a kiss.
I’m not shy when it comes to this sort of thing, but she’s different. She’s not one of the women clamoring to get close to me. She’s unassuming and sweet.
Her eyes flick tentatively to my mouth, and I use that as my invitation.
I take a single step toward her, and I slowly lower my lips to hers.
It’s barely a touch of lip to lip, and it’s not enough.
I slide my arm around her waist and haul her to me, and for just a second, I forget where I am.
All good sense walks straight off the premises, and I’m about ready to strip her naked as thoughts of that black dress from the night of the charity event pop unbidden back into my mind.
Chapel, Dex. You’re in a chapel. And you’re kissing your sister’s best friend.
Your wife.
Your sister’s best friend.
These words are pulling at me from each direction, ready to tear me in two as I try to figure out which side is screaming louder at me.
A third voice pops uninvited into the mix. She’s caring for your kid.
That’s the one that has me pulling back. She’s in a daze, and her fingertips move up to touch her lips as if she can’t believe that really just happened.
I wouldn’t be surprised if that is the photo this place wants to use of us, but in all likelihood, they’ll choose one where my face can clearly be seen.
None of it matters, though.
All that matters is that I’m walking out of here with a wife.