Chapter 40
VAN
We said a hasty goodbye to Jojo and pulled Regan aside.
“We need your help,” I whispered as quietly as I could.
“Sure thing. What’s up?”
“We need to organize a private plane ASAP.”
“Where and why?”
“Vegas,” Brodie explained. “Pretty sure you can figure out the reason why on your own.”
Regan’s eyebrows nearly reached her hairline.
“I don’t care what it costs. This is on me, not the label,” Brodie added. “Tonight. Now. And no one is to know. No one.”
Were Brodie and I really going to do this?
Yes.
Was it insane?
Not to us.
I saw the love in his eyes. I felt the passion in his voice when he told me earlier that I was his everything. He’d been telling me for a while, but finally, I’d heard him.
And I recognized myself in his words.
Because he was my everything too.
“I’ll get it organized.” Regan nodded and motioned for Dawson to join her. “Daws, get these two in the SUV. I’ll join you in a minute. Then we’ve got a change in plans.”
We followed Dawson outside and walked quickly to the SUV. Not without more photos being taken of us, of course. I hoped the paps weren’t psychic because I think the happiness on our faces would’ve given us away.
Regan joined us shortly after and drove us to a small airfield a half hour away from the gallery.
An hour and a half after that, Brodie and I boarded a private plane with Regan and Dawson in tow.
Thankfully, it had two sofas and comfortable chairs. A five and a half-hour flight meant we’d have time to sleep.
That is, if we could sleep. Both of us were vibrating like kids after eating too much sugar.
I pulled Brodie onto one couch with me, and we snuggled together under a blanket. The soothing hum of the engines and the quiet and darkness of the cabin had us finally drifting off.
We woke up a few hours later to Regan handing us steaming cups of coffee.
“What about your family?” I turned to Brodie as reality filtered in. “Are they going to be upset?”
Brodie shook his head. “They don’t expect me to do anything the traditional way, a wedding least of all. We’ll organize a reception for everyone when we get back.”
I leaned over and kissed him, morning (in this case, night) breath be damned.
“And the guys?”
“Same thing applies. As soon as we start organizing and news leaks, the press will be after us like bloodhounds. I want one moment for just the two of us.”
There was a full bathroom on the plane, so we had time to shower.
At just after midnight, we landed in Vegas, and entered the cool desert night.
Brodie and I were both in the clothes we wore from last night—me in my navy suit and him in his black leather kilt, a silky white blouse, and a leather motorcycle jacket.
And he wore my necklace.
In a short time, he’d be wearing my ring.
Mind fucking blown.
Regan and Dawson procured an SUV rental and drove us to the strip.
“I called a few places while you guys were asleep,” Regan remarked. “First stop, a jewelry store. Then you’re booked in at the Chapel of Everlasting Love in an hour. That still leaves you with enough time if you want to check into a hotel first.”
“I don’t think we should chance it. Let’s get our rings and get to the venue,” I replied.
Brodie nodded. “I agree. If someone spots me, we’re done. I want to go incognito for as long as possible.”
We drove past the gaudy casinos and opulent hotels, the sidewalks packed with people. The energy of the strip was vibrant at this time of night, and most of the partiers were just getting started.
The jewelry store was located in a strip mall on the outskirts of town. The place looked sketchy as fuck, but Regan assured us it was legit and most important, it was open twenty-four seven. Apparently, she’d taken other celebrity clients here when they got married in Vegas.
Trusting in our security lead, we headed inside.
Both Brodie and I preferred simple, classic gold. Forty minutes later, we left with two perfectly fitted wedding bands. Brodie suggested we get matching tattoos on our ring fingers, for those times when wearing a band wouldn’t be possible.
“I like that idea.”
“I could also get ‘property of Van’ tattooed on my ass,” Brodie quipped.
“Good. I was already planning on a ‘property of Brodie’ on mine.”
With our rings in hand, we headed directly to the chapel. Tattoos would have to wait.
Brodie and I quietly walked in, with no press or interested fans in sight, and got married. Regan and Dawson were our witnesses.
The wedding was perfect for us. We’d always connected to each other in a special way, and our wedding was no different.
After Brodie stated his vows, he sang to me. Low and soft, he crooned the words I’d penned about him, and I could hear his love for me in every note.
I tried to hold back my tears, but it was useless. Even Regan and Dawson looked choked up.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and pronounced my vows in turn.
When the officiant announced us husbands, I took Brodie in my arms, and sealed the deal.
Then we wasted no time in group texting photos of our nuptials to his family, the band, and all our friends.
Our phones didn’t stop ringing for an entire day.
And, of course, the press got wind of our wedding within a few hours.
But that was fine. We’d had our moment.
I knew I would always have to share a part of Brodie with the rest of the world. And that was okay.
The most important part, his heart, belonged to me.
brODIE
Rockstar Brodie James marries former manager Ivan Cross in surprise Vegas wedding!
I read the headline on my phone as I sat on a lounger by the pool, the sun warming my skin.
My husband (holy fucking shit, my husband!) was lying beside me, giving me that decadent smile that made my stomach flutter.
After our wedding, Van and I flew down to the U.S. Virgin Islands for our honeymoon.
The lead singer of a band Van used to manage owned a house on St. Thomas, and he was only too happy to let us use it. It was located high on a hill overlooking stunning Magens Bay. We had our own private pool and no neighbors for miles.
Well, sort of.
We didn’t realize when we arrived that another famous musical couple hadn’t vacated the house yet. Van was so excited to start our honeymoon that as soon as we entered the home, he manhandled me and fucked me over the kitchen island.
It was the hottest thing ever. I know, I know, I say that about everything when it comes to Van, but it’s true.
My husband was so intent on railing me, and I was so far gone getting railed that we didn’t notice the two men on the other side of the patio doors.
Well, I noticed, but I was already naked by then and too turned on to do anything but grunt Van’s name.
Afterwards, all four of us shared ice-cold beers on the patio. Just shooting the shit.
I told you, musicians are used to that kind of thing…
Van confided to me afterward that being watched was something he didn’t expect to enjoy but did. But he was never going to share me.
I felt the exact same way.
I glanced at the article again and the picture of me and Van, newly married, as we strolled hand in hand on the Vegas strip. I still couldn’t believe we’d done it.
I recalled every moment of the ceremony as Van and I took each other as husbands and committed our lives to each other.
I sang to him; of course I did. I am a rock star, after all.
I’m sure my voice cracked since I was overwhelmed with emotion. It didn’t matter.
Just like our Halloween concert, singing Van’s song to him was the most meaningful music of my life.
“We look so fucking hot together,” I stated as I passed over my phone.
“You should have that tattooed on your ass,” Van quipped, the sunshine glinting off his sunglasses.
“Are you saying we don’t?” I taunted, rolling to my side and propping my head on my hand.
“You’re beautiful, no question.” Van removed his glasses, looked at the screen, and then stared at me. The Caribbean water had nothing on Van’s deep blues. “But it’s what’s inside that’s even better.”
I leaned over and gave him a languid kiss.
“I want this picture in our bedroom.”
Van’s smile widened. “You’ll need to find room. I’ve got those photos from my condo that I need to set up so I can continue to worship at your shrine.”
I pinched Van’s arm. “Smart ass.”
“You’ve rubbed off on me.”
“Well, it is my husbandly duty.”
“Come here, then, husband, and get to work.”
We both ended up sunburnt but deliriously happy.