Chapter 49 #2
Nearer the front, two civilians catch my eye. There’s a woman about the same height as me, but beside her sits a dwarf. Covering my mouth to hide my chuckle, I can only think this is Tall, the man who gave my very soon-to-be husband the moniker Short. I’m so happy I’ll finally be able to meet them.
Then there’s our club, taking up the front two rows, the club girls sitting alongside them.
Trixie, who’d been a great help in the planning, gives Pippa and me an enthusiastic finger wave as we pass.
Trip’s got pride of place at the end of the front row, with Bullseye sitting beside him, with his officers, minus the VP of course.
I notice the prez is wearing a look of pride, as if what’s happening today is all down to him.
And Trip? Well, he absolutely beams as I walk past him. I blow him a kiss, and he returns the gesture, just as I’d taught him.
Then there are no more guests to distract me, and my full attention is on Short.
He’s staring at me, hunger evident in his gaze.
He’s got eyes only for me. He doesn’t even glance toward Pippa.
He draws me in like a magnet, some out-of-this-world force moving my feet forward until I’m standing beside him.
“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers, as he leans in.
A clearing of the throat by the officiant has us both grinning.
I take a second to look at the man who’s going to perform the ceremony, having left this part to Pippa.
We’d initially assumed that Words would marry us, as he is an ordained minister.
But more used to conducting funerals, he’d declined politely, saying he didn’t want his sober appearance and sombre delivery to ruin our day.
Even when pressed, he told us, “I separate people from their loved ones. I don’t join them together.
You want someone who can reflect your happiness on your special day. ”
I stifle a giggle when I see who’s going to be doing the honours, seeing it’s the missing man from New Mexico, Smooth.
He’s standing in front of us, looking slightly bored, dressed informally in jeans and his cut, oh, and a black t-shirt with the slogan, Chaining people together for life written on it.
I turn away, trying to suppress my snort of laughter.
I remember Pippa saying she didn’t want a stuffy, formal wedding. I’m beginning to think she’s had her wishes delivered in spades.
Pippa and I agreed on one thing – there were to be no over-wordy vows.
By now, Saint and Short knew how we felt for them, and we were both confident in their feelings for us.
It was enough to just go along with the simple service with no embellishments.
A couple of ‘I do’s’ and we’d be done. Then we could start to celebrate this first step into the rest of our lives.
However, it seems Smooth’s the one who didn’t get the memo.
First staring at Short, and then at Saint, his lips start to curve.
“Dearly beloved…” he pauses, rolls his eyes, then lifts his gaze to encompass the congregation and smirks.
“A few months ago, I helped save the lives of these assholes. Now they stand beside me, and it’s my chance to rescue them again.
” Leaning forward, cupping his hand around his mouth, and though he looks like he’s going to whisper, he makes no attempt to lower his voice.
“I’m giving you an out, Brothers. I feel it is my duty to offer you a chance to escape a life of servitude, balls, and chains.
Blink twice if you want to take me up on my offer. ”
Short puts his arm around me and draws me closer, and I see Saint pulling Pippa to him.
“Not buying what you’re selling,” Saint says.
“Just fuckin’ get on with it,” Short demands.
Smooth’s eyes roll upward once again. “Remember, I gave you an out.” Now he’s staring at me, his gaze roaming my body with an obvious lecherous leer.
When Short growls, he turns his attention to Pippa, obviously mentally undressing her in the same way.
Saint steps forward, and Smooth holds up his hands.
“Was only going to offer these lovely ladies another option. Hey, I’m single.
Trouble is, you’re both so lovely, I can’t choose between you.
What do you say, we get together as a ménage, and ride off into the sunset? ”
Saint tenses, but Pippa, with a vice-like grip on his arm, holds him back.
“I say I see how you got your road name. You reckon you’re a smooth talker.
But I have to refuse your attractive,” she pauses and mimes putting her finger down her throat, “offer.” Leaning forward, she winks at me.
“No offence, Bron, but I don’t swing that way. ”
It’s hard to talk as I’m laughing so hard. “None taken,” I manage to stammer out at last. “I don’t fancy you either.”
Taking the opportunity, Smooth winks. “But you do fancy me?”
“Bigfoot!” Short yells. “Come control your fuckin’ man. We want to get married today and can’t do that with a dead officiant.”
Bigfoot yells back, “Just enjoying the show back here, Brother. But I’d be mighty pleased if you didn’t kill my road captain. Might need him on the way back.” He thinks for a moment, then adds, “Just maim him if you need to.”
“Now you’re talking.” Saint takes a knife out of his sheath on his belt.
Holding up both his hands in defeat, Smooth chuckles, then heaves a heavy sigh. “Seeing as you’re determined to go through with it, I’ll get you wed. Just need to ask if anyone knows any impediment that…”
“For fuck’s sake,” Short roars. “Take it as they don’t, else I’ll have to fuckin’ kill them.”
A change comes over Smooth, and his mirth disappears as he starts to take the ceremony seriously.
“Do you, Jeremiah ‘Saint’ Henley, take Phillipa Owens to be your ride and die? The one you’ll forsake all others for, in this life and the next? Even during those times of the month when she becomes totally unreasonable, won’t give it up, and her bitch side comes out.”
“I’m going to kill you myself,” Pippa warns.
“I fuckin’ take her faults and all.” Saint, barely suppressing a chuckle, leans in and gives Pippa a kiss.
“Not so fucking’ soon. You’re not married yet. Keep your mouths to yourself.” Smooth glares at them. “Now, Phillipa Owens, do you take Jeremiah ‘Saint’ Henley as your ride and die? Do you promise not to arrest him? Do you—”
“I do,” Pippa spits out. “Take the rest as read and get on with it.”
Smooth looks sly. “Not yet, I’ve got to do the other couple first.”
I should add that during all this, the wedding audience, which is usually sombre and respectful at weddings, is rolling in the aisles, laughing. Nervously, I eye the poorly chosen officiant, worried about what he’s going to say when he turns to my soon-to-be-husband and me.
But before he proceeds, Smooth turns away, his shoulders shaking so I suspect he’s trying to get himself back under control.
Then, with a straight face, he finally swings back around. “Was that a double blink, Brother?”
“No, it was fuckin’ not.” Short’s vibrating, barely holding onto his temper. “Get on with it, or you fuckin’ die.”
Smooth shrugs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now, where were we? Oh yes.”
I hold my breath, anxious about what is coming.
After clearing his throat, Smooth resumes. “Do you, Beauregard ‘Short’ Ranger—”
“Beauregard?” someone calls out. “Thought your name was Ranger.”
“How did we not know this?” another voice shouts.
“Fuck, Beauregard? We’re going to have some fun with this.”
Short turns around, offering the whole assembly both middle fingers.
And, of course, Smooth has to start all over again, this time with emphasis that gets the congregation roaring.
“Do you, Beauregard ‘Short’ Ranger…” He spoils it by snorting, but recovers fast. “Take the beautiful Bronwyn Custer as your beloved wife? Your ride and die, in sickness and in health. And, knowing she’s a nurse and probably knows a hundred ways to kill you without leaving a trace of evidence. ”
“And she’s got friends who’d help her dispose of the body.” I recognise it’s Words who’s shouted it out.
“What he said,” Smooth continues, acknowledging the interruption but moving on. When Short stays quiet, he prompts, “Well, do you, Short? Or are you reconsidering?”
“You’re giving me time to answer?” Short drawls. “Well, I fuckin’ do. She’s my ride and die forever.”
I brace for whatever Smooth’s going to throw at me. He doesn’t disappoint.
“Do you, Bronwyn Foster, take Beauregard ‘Short’ Ranger as your shackle for life? And do you promise, when he annoys you too much, you find a painless way of killing him?”
My turn now. I suppress a grin as I answer, “I do.” Keeping it simple, as I just want to get on with the celebrations.
Smooth puffs out his chest. “These poor misguided couples have said their vows, as witnessed by all who are gathered here today.” He sighs heavily, waits a beat, then starts, “By the power invested in me by the state of New Mexico—”
“What the fuck?” Saint roars. “Have we gone through this charade just to find out you can’t even legally marry us?”
Short takes a step forward and it’s only my hand holding him back. “Are you fuckin’ with us?”
I, too, am anxious for the answer. I don’t want to go through this charade again.
“Calm your tits, just forgot where I am for a moment. I am a professional, non-denominational wedding officiant, able to perform ceremonies across all states.” He breaks off and looks at the audience.
He steps forward, leaving me, Short, Pippa, and Saint in his wake.
“I know we’ve got chapters here from all over, so if you’re looking for an officiant who will make your wedding personal, heartfelt, and unforgettable, whatever celebration, big or small, you’re planning…
” He spreads his arms out wide and offers a cheesy grin.
“I, Smooth, your friendly, reliable, and after today, experienced officiant, am at your service for a ridiculously exorbitant amount.”
“Bigfoot!” Short yells.