Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Hollis
This is crazy. Insane. A mockery of the institution of marriage and a mistake the size of this mountain.
As I pace back and forth in front of my closet, searching for something I can wear to my own wedding ceremony this afternoon, a burst of panic rises in my chest, flocking like birds being caged inside a cave with no way to escape.
Last night, after round two of the best sex I’ve ever had, we snuggled up by the fire and researched the requirements for getting married in Colorado.
No waiting period. Check.
No witnesses required. Check.
Marriage license can be obtained at a County Clerk’s office on Monday. Check.
We only needed a wedding officiant to do us the honors this afternoon.
And as it so happened, I learned that one of the film crew for the TV show is a certified officiant.
Terrence, or Terry as he likes to be called, received his certification when he began work in reality TV because of the number of spur-of-the-moment marriage decisions.
I’d told Paula my plans over breakfast this morning, before all the contestants were corralled and sent out on the slopes for their skiing lessons. She’d fluttered her hand in surprise over my announcement and kept repeating it to herself over and over again.
“Married? To Kellan Muller? Married?”
Since no one knew about our past fling, I’m sure it would seem rather odd and sudden that we would get hitched. Yes, it is strange, indeed, since we’d never dated, have only spent a week together in the past, and just reconnected after two years apart.
But even more strange is the fact that after last night, it actually feels right.
In my heart, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting dishonestly or unlawfully to marry Kellan.
I really do like him. A lot. We have great chemistry – the sex is amazing – we’re in the same circles, and we both want to build our new careers.
And by getting married, we can do that together and support each other in those endeavors.
I finally pick out a lovely green dress that will look great with my eyes and lay it on the bed, as a thought dawns in my head.
We talked a lot last night regarding the logistics of this marriage, but Kellan never mentioned his thoughts on our living arrangements.
Would we live together in Denver where I have an apartment?
Or would he remain in his condo in Vail?
Would he want to treat this like a real marriage and cohabitate? Am I changing my name?
My mind quiets down as I read the incoming text from Kellan.
Guten Morgen, angel. How is my beautiful and sexy soon-to-be wife?
I grin stupidly at this, even though I know it’s all for show, and he doesn’t mean it.
We worked over our plans to explain our marriage to the media, our family – or rather, mine – and the Immigration authorities when the time came for him to apply for his Visa.
We both thought it a good idea that we begin texting like a normal couple would do.
Although I know the word choice in this text is phony, and he’s just doing it for a paper trail, so to speak, it still makes me giddy like a schoolgirl to read them.
My pulse picks up in a fast trot and I can feel my face flush.
Kellan makes me happy. He’s not your stereotypical arrogant and cocky world champion, like those I’ve worked with or are on my current client list. He’s sweet, gentle, and kind to everyone.
In fact, I saw him greet a young fan yesterday outside the lodge.
The kid, unsure of himself, had his head bent in timid uncertainty, but everything changed the moment Kellan responded to his greeting.
I’d been walking close enough to hear their exchange, and Kellan asked the kid about himself and his skiing experience and wished him luck on the slopes. He genuinely cares about others.
And he’s really good with kids, which makes something in my belly twitch and dance unbidden.
Seeing that exchange made Kellan more desirable to me than his ripped abs and athletic body could ever do.
But they don’t hurt either.
I type back my response to Kellan.
I’m good. A little nervous. Just waiting for my grandfather to call me back.
All I’d told Kellan after I accepted his proposal was that I had to inform my granddad of my plans to get married, and that he would probably flip out.
What I didn’t mention, however, was that our marriage would also benefit me professionally and financially by unlocking my destiny with the Flying Aces business.
Do you want me to talk to him? To ask him for your hand in marriage?
I choke out a laugh because this is so Kellan. Sweet and considerate.
Nah, I’m a big girl. I’ll ask. Now go get your sexy self ready to meet me in the lodge at one. Xoxo I can’t wait!
I added lots of kissing emojis after that and placed the phone back on the bed next to my dress.
One last text pinged in and I glanced down at it as I tugged off my robe to jump in the shower.
I can’t wait to fuck my wife on our wedding night.
My lady parts tingle and my breasts feel heavy with the anticipation.
Me, too, baby. Me, too.
My grandfather calls me fifteen minutes prior to my wedding ceremony.
I’m down in the lobby, working out the final details with Paula of the closing event of our weekend film schedule when my phone rings.
“I’ve got to grab this, Paula. We good?” I raise a brow, and she nods as I walk down the hallway to find a private room.
I close the door behind me. “Hello, Grandfather. How are you today?”
“My lawyer says I don’t have to answer that question,” he cleverly responds, always one with a witty answer. “But, since you are my favorite granddaughter, I’ll tell you I’m doing better now that I hear your sweet voice.”
“Aw, you’re so full of shit, old man. I’m your only granddaughter.”
He chuckles at this and responds with a “Touché.”
I can hear the rustling of papers, as he’s probably looking over several contracts at the moment. The man wakes every morning at 5 a.m., gets in a swim in his lap pool, does the sauna, eats breakfast, has some coffee, and then gets straight down to business.
I can only wish to have the same level of stamina he has when I’m seventy-two.
“Are you going to tell me how your event is going? I’m sorry I couldn’t get out there, but you know how it is.”
He retired to Florida years ago and still works with many athletes who live down there, especially retired athletes who still need PR help when they find themselves in trouble.
I inhale deeply, pushing it out of my lungs with a whoosh. It’s now or never.
“It’s been a very good event, and I think it’s given Brett a lot of mileage and publicity that will only make him more marketable. And,” I add with both excitement and nerves, “I’ve signed up the last three clients to meet my goal.”
“Good, good. That’s wonderful to hear, Hollis. I knew you could do it.”
My heart fills with pride from his praise and bolsters my confidence to mention the next topic.
“And Granddad, I have some other news. I’m getting married.”
There’s a silence over the line and I actually check my phone to make sure I didn’t lose him. Mountain reception, and all. But he’s still there.
And then his voice booms like thunder. “Married? To whom? And when?”
Nervous laughter bolts from my throat. “Well, it’s Kellan Muller. He and I are…well, we reconnected and rekindled something that started a few years back. And we’ve decided to get married. Here. At Bachelor Mountain. Today.”
Those last words come out choppy and forced. As if someone was thumping me on the back to dislodge them from my throat.
“You what?” he bellows into the phone. “Why so suddenly? Why is this the first I’ve heard about Kellan? And hold on there. Isn’t he one of the athletes you were trying to sign this weekend?”
Oh boy. There is no pulling anything over on my grandfather, who is sharp as a tack, and nothing slips by him unnoticed.
I keep my voice calm and neutral. Businesslike, even though inside I’m going nuts with anxious nerves. “Yes, granddad. I did sign Kellan this weekend.”
He snorts. “Sounds like you did a hell of a lot more than that, young lady.”
“Like I said, we’d had a brief affair at the last Olympics and reconnected. And, well, we fit. He’s a good man, granddad. You’ll like him and I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
His voice grows cagey. “Then why don’t you wait to get married and come down to visit me in Florida? We’ll have a ceremony here so I can see my beautiful granddaughter and walk her down the aisle.”
I didn’t expect that and now my heart pings with regret and shame. Now I have to backpedal. Ugh, I’m a horrible liar. Even with my chosen profession, you’d think I’d be a great spin doctor. Which I am, but only when it involves a client, and not me or my personal life.
“That would be lovely, granddad and I’ll bring it up with Kellan.
But right now, he’s in the middle of competition season and training for the Olympic tryouts, so that doesn’t leave us time to travel outside of competitions.
But we will definitely get down soon and you can host our wedding reception then. ”
He seems to mull this over and accept it as truth, adding, “Well, I’ll have to come meet your new man, or should I say, husband, soon. Congratulations darling. I hope you find love and happiness in this union.”
Happiness, for sure, once I get the position of President of Flying Aces.
Love? Maybe.
I’m hopeful and actually more excited than I expected to be over being Mrs. Kellan Muller.