Seven
T WO WEEKS LATER, DAN and I are sitting together on the love seat in the coffee shop, trying to figure out what to do about our wedding.
From the outside, it probably looks like we’re having a cozy, romantic conversation. His arm has been around me a lot of the time, his head is tilted down close to mine, and I will occasionally reach over to rub his thigh or his chest.
I do like being close to him. More than I should. But the mood of our conversation is frustrated rather than intimate.
We’ve having trouble figuring out how to manage our wedding.
The original plan was for us to get married in the courthouse two months after we started “dating” and a month after we got engaged. It still makes sense to follow this route. Our tight timeline allows no possibility for any sort of traditional wedding even if we happened to want that. Which we don’t. Keeping it simple and no-nonsense fits the nature of our relationship and will require the least investment of time and money.
But Dan keeps getting hung up on how to justify not inviting family, and he won’t let it go.
“We can just... not invite them,” I say for what feels like the tenth time. “We don’t have to explain it to anyone.”
“But it wouldn’t make sense. It would be out of character. How will anyone believe we woke up one day and decided to spontaneously get married but didn’t even invite my folks or Jim and Esther at very least? Neither of us would ever do that.”
“I know that.” Because I’m feeling annoyed and impatient, I make a point of sliding my hand up his firm thigh and smooth trousers until I can squeeze his knee. There are a number of people in this coffee shop we know, including Chase behind the counter and Paige working on her laptop in the corner. If we’re not careful, our disagreement will be recognized. “But does it really matter that they’ll think it’s strange? The whole thing is kind of questionable. Nearly everyone will assume we’re jumping in too quickly, and they’ll be proven right when we divorce a month after we get married.”
“I know that.” He scowls down at me until he must remember to control his expression. “But it still feels wrong.”
“Okay fine. Then we can invite your parents and Jim and Esther. It’s not worth making a big deal about.” While I feel a little uncomfortable with them witnessing a fake facade of a wedding, it’s better than getting into a real fight about.
After all, Jim and Esther already know the true purpose of the marriage, so it wouldn’t feel like I was tricking them about it.
Dan shakes his head. “No. I don’t want that either. Jim and Esther already know the truth, but my parents don’t. It would feel like a lie.”
I have to bite off a frustrated groan. Dan usually acts laid-back and accommodating, so this stubbornness is a new side to him. “Okay. I get that. But surely it will feel even worse to plan a real wedding, no matter how small, and have our friends and family all show up to celebrate a marriage that isn’t even real.”
“Of course we can’t do that,” he says gruffly. “I would feel like a total asshole.”
It’s clearly important to him to not feel like an asshole. Important to not lie to the people he loves more than what’s absolutely necessary. He’s got a moral streak as unyielding as steel beneath his friendly nonchalance.
He’ll never be pushed into doing what he feels is wrong, no matter how much he’s cornered into it.
He might marry a woman he doesn’t love to get access to money that was already his, but he’s not going to do it in a way that could possibly hurt anyone.
It might hurt me. I’m aware enough by now to realize that. But Dan doesn’t know that, and he’ll never know it if I have any control over the matter.
Besides, I’m doing all the mental gymnastics I’m capable of to prevent my heart being damaged by this crazy scheme.
“All right,” I say, leaning back into the crook of his arm. “Well, what about this? The main issue with a quick wedding is that it’s local so there’s no reason for our families to not be invited. But what if we were to go on a trip together—somewhere like a beach or Vegas—and then we spontaneously decide to get married there. No one would expect to be invited in that case.”
The tension in Dan’s body softens slightly. His lips part as he listens to what I say. “That might work.”
“It doesn’t have to be some sort of crazy luxury trip or exotic locale. Just a regular long weekend trip, and we just randomly decided to get married while we were there. I’m sure we can think of a believable backstory for it happening, and no one would question family not being involved since it was spur of the moment.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He’s fully relaxing now, his jaw unclenching and the stress in his eyes fading. “We can definitely make that work.”
“People would believe it, but it wouldn’t feel so much like a lie.”
“Good.” He smiles at me for real for the first time in twenty minutes. “Not sure why I didn’t think about it.”
“Most destination weddings are just as expensive as the real thing because it’s a big production and family and friends are invited, but this wouldn’t be a destination wedding. Just a spontaneous impulse while we’re out of town.”
“Okay. That will work great. Where should we go?”
“I don’t know. Or really care, if you want the truth. But I’d rather it not be too expensive.”
When Dan opens his mouth to reply, I speak over him. “I’d like to pay my share, but I’ll have to take it out of my meager savings, and I don’t want to pay interest on a credit card until I get the money from our deal.”
“Okay. Well, Vegas is fairly inexpensive if you don’t gamble, and it’s easy to get married there. Plus it will help our story since getting married in Vegas is such an obvious thing.”
I nod because I know what he’s saying is the truth. I’ve never had the slightest interest in going to Las Vegas. In fact, the very idea of it—the loud, glitzy surroundings and the thoughtless throwing away of money in casinos—is contrary to everything in my nature.
But in this case, Vegas makes sense.
Dan is checking his phone. Maybe he had a text come in.
Still thinking, I ask slowly, “Will people believe that’s a place either of us would really choose to go for our first vacation?”
“Hold on,” he murmurs, still working on his phone.
I wait, initially with understanding but increasingly impatient as he appears absorbed in his phone.
Dan usually isn’t the kind of person who prioritizes his phone over the people around him, so this is unusual behavior for him.
But I thought we were having an important conversation.
After a few minutes, he finally lowers his phone and gives me a victorious smile. “Got it.”
“Got what?”
“There’s always a zillion conventions going on in Vegas on any given weekend, so I found one we might go to.”
I frown as I peer down at the screen of his phone he shows me.
It’s the website for the annual conference for a national society on wolf conservation that meets in Vegas in three weeks.
I stare down at the page, scrolling farther to see a list of sessions and keynote speeches. I start to shake with silent laughter.
“What?” Dan asks, obviously trying to hide a grin. “Isn’t that something you’d be interested in?”
“Yes,” I admit. “If it was an academic conference, for sure. But these folks seem kind of... nutty. Did you see this midnight session where they go out and howl at the moon to share in the wolves’ experience?”
“Yeah. I saw that. That’s the session that won me over. I think it looks like great fun. And no one around here is going to question the nature of the conference. We can just tell them it’s about saving wolves, and they’ll believe it. It will give us a reason for being in Vegas. Everyone knows I don’t gamble. So unless you want to put forward the story that you’re a secret lover of slot machines...?”
“No, of course not. We’ll go with the conference, assuming it’s not too late to buy admission tickets.”
“No way is this conference sold out. I’ll get on it right away and sign us up for the conference and get flights and reservations.”
“I don’t mind paying my share.”
“Sure, we can settle up whenever.” He’s back to working on his phone, but he mutters with a smile on his face, “This is going to be fun.”
***
T HE FLIGHT TO LAS VEGAS three weeks later is remarkably smooth. It’s a direct flight from Charlotte, and it takes off on time and has almost no turbulence. We’re seated in coach since Dan knows I want to spend as little money as reasonably possible, but the plane isn’t entirely full, so we have an empty seat on our row.
I’m even able to doze for an hour or so, which is remarkable as far as I’m concerned.
If I was the kind of person who looks for signs and portents, I’d have to say that the gods must be smiling on our enterprise.
I’m in a pretty good mood as we get a rideshare over to the conference hotel, which is a casino on the main strip. I don’t care for the overall feel of the place—way too disorienting on the senses with all its flash and glitz—but it doesn’t take us long to check in and head up to our room.
I’m relieved to walk in to a quiet, calmly decorated hotel room. There are two nicely made queen-size beds and a large window looking out on the city. I set my suitcase on the long, low dresser and sigh in relief at being here.
I’m not the worst traveler in the world, but the actual travel part of a trip is pretty far down on my list of enjoyable and comfortable things to do.
“Does this look okay?” Dan asks, glancing around before focusing on my face.
“Sure. It looks nice.”
“Which bed would you prefer?”
“Oh, I don’t really care. I’m not picky. Do you have a preference?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll leave it up to you. Do you want to be close to the window or the bathroom?”
I really have very few opinions on such things, but I usually sleep on the right side of the bed, so I choose the bed on the right. The one near the window.
Dan appears perfectly fine with my choice. He hefts his suitcase onto the other bed and toes off his shoes.
It’s not until he sits down on the foot of the bed that I get a little clench in my gut.
We’re going to be sharing this room. Not the bed—at least that helps—but even sharing a room might feel intimate.
We had sex five weeks ago, and I’m just as attracted to him now as I was back then. We’ve done good about avoiding anything too physical or sexual between us. Dan has clearly curbed his behavior so that particular tension hasn’t been igniting as often between us as it was before.
But still...
This might be a recipe for danger. Sharing a room with him for the next three nights.
I’m standing next to my bed, trying to rein in my spiraling thoughts, and Dan must notice something of my mood.
He lifts his eyebrows. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I smile, shrugging off the worry. “Fine.”
“You nervous about this?” He nods toward the beds. “Because I’m happy to get us a second room—”
“No, no. That would be silly and a waste of money. We’re both adults. I’m sure we can handle this situation with appropriate restraint and maturity.”
His eyebrows arch even higher. “You think?”
I choke on a laugh. Obviously his intent. “Yes, I think so. What time does registration begin?”
“It started at two, but it goes through six, and the opening banquet at six is the first thing on the schedule. So there doesn’t seem to be much reason to go down for a couple of hours. So we have time to rest for a while unless you want to visit the casino.”
I give him a stern look to convey what I think about that last suggestion. “A rest sounds good. Have you looked over the whole schedule yet? We’ll have to decide what sessions to attend.”
“Oh, I already know which ones I want to attend.” He slants me a mischievous look.
Intrigued, I sit down next to him so we can review the schedule on his phone. Predictably, Dan is prepared and organized. And has chosen the wackiest of all the sessions to attend.
I giggle through the various titles and agree to all his choices. There are a few that are pseudoscientific but nothing that will be of any real help in my future career.
We might as well have fun while we’re here.
Dan is visibly pleased with our plan for the weekend. When we’re done reviewing the sessions, he unpacks neatly in two of the dresser drawers and goes to take a shower. I flop out on top of my covers, texting Esther to let her know we made it safely.
Then I close my eyes and try not to imagine what Dan looks like naked in the shower.
To my relief, when he eventually comes back into the room, he’s fully dressed in a T-shirt and sweats. His feet are bare, and I like the looks of them against the carpet. “I’m not going to wear this to the big banquet,” he explains. “I just didn’t want to lie around in uncomfortable clothes.”
“I figured.” I’m hit with the most ridiculously intense urge to grab him, press my body against him, run my hands up and down his back and feel the curve of his ass.
That won’t do at all.
With a gulp, I root through my suitcase until I’ve grabbed my toiletries, leggings, and an oversized T-shirt. “I’m going to take a shower too,” I tell him.
“Good plan.” He’s already stretched out on his bed, holding his phone up to read whatever is on the screen.
I could go over there and climb on top of him. I want to so bad.
It’s harder than I would have expected to restrain the impulse, but I make it into the bathroom.
After I get in the shower, I have a quick, quiet session with my hand, and I feel better after that.
***
T HE WOLF CONFERENCE is every bit as nutty as Dan was hoping.
The people in attendance are split between aging hippie-types and younger folks who have been pulled into a particular blend of social justice causes and mystical weirdness online. None of them appear remotely surprised that Dan and I have joined in—despite our white-bread appearance and lack of spiritual creds.
Dan jumps into the sessions with both feet, but he doesn’t do it in a mocking way. Not even in the most ridiculous events, including a long lecture about how to establish an exclusive new wolf colony or an intense debate over which crystals are the best for channeling the purest wolf spirits. He participates with infectious, sincere enthusiasm that makes everyone like him, asking questions and buying so many wolf-themed trinkets and paraphernalia that he’s going to need an extra bag on the way home.
I’ve never had such a good time in my life.
Not in my entire life.
We’re quickly embraced by the other attendees, and I like most of them a lot more than I ever would have expected. They might be silly, but most of them are earnest in their desire to do good in the world and are sincerely interested in getting to know us.
On Saturday at dinner, it feels like we’ve already made a lot of friends. While Dan finishes filling his plate at the buffet, I glance around for a place to sit. People at three different tables wave at me, but I head toward Sage and Aspen’s table since they’re making the most insistent gestures of welcome.
I sit down in one of the empty chairs across from them and pull back the one beside me for Dan.
Sage and Aspen are a middle-aged lesbian couple we met this morning at the session for learning the wolf dances. They both have very long, naturally graying hair, and they wear over-the-top bohemian skirts, dresses, shawls, and jewelry.
They’re smiling as they greet me. Aspen says, “It looks like your man got waylaid by Gray Horse.”
I can’t help but like the way she referred to Dan as my man. I glance back and see he’s talking with the older man who calls himself Gray Horse. The other man is very intense and has little regard for personal space. I snort at Dan’s expression as he balances his plate and drink and tries to get away.
“Are you guys enjoying your day so far?” Sage asks me.
“We really are. We’ve been having a great time.” I don’t have to lie or stretch the truth. I’ve been having a fantastic day. I’m about to ask them what sessions they attended this afternoon when Dan finally makes it to the table.
He sets down his plate and then pulls out his chair, giving my head a quick kiss as he sits down.
“You’re too cute,” Sage says, smiling over at Aspen. “Aren’t they cute?”
“Very cute. How did the two of you get together?”
I pause to formulate an easy, simple backstory for our relationship, but Dan beats me to the answer. “Vicky moved to town last year and started walking dogs for a local company.” He leans back and drapes a casual arm around my shoulders. “One day I was talking to someone on the sidewalk and I looked across the street. There she was, walking five dogs at once. She was smiling down at one of the dogs, and I’d never seen anything so radiant. And it hit me then—this undeniable recognition. And I said to myself, I’m going to marry that girl .”
I gasp since his tone and his expression both sound so sincere. “You did not!”
“Yes, I did.” He tightens his arm around me and is chuckling as he gives the others a dryly amused look. “But it took Vicky a little longer to realize I was the one for her.”
I’m blushing as Sage and Aspen ooh and aah over the romantic tale. It’s not true. I know it’s not true. Dan is putting on an act for an audience.
But it feels true. And it makes me melt as if it were true.
And I desperately want it to be true.
“It didn’t take me that long,” I put in, making an effort to participate in the conversation. “But he came on kind of strong, you know.”
“Of course I came on strong. When you find the perfect person for you, you go out and get it.”
A few people from neighboring tables have turned around to blatantly listen to our conversation. One of the guys asks, “So when are you going to marry her then?”
“Actually,” Dan announces with a covert smile, “we were thinking about getting married this evening. While we’re here.”
That’s all it takes for everyone around us to erupt into excited babbling. And soon our quick trip to a wedding chapel has turned into an elaborate event.
Everyone wants to attend. After much advice, we eventually choose a wedding chapel near the conference hotel and make an appointment for ten thirty so we can get married right before the midnight howling at the moon extravaganza. Sage and Aspen insist on buying me a white, fringed, flowing garment that looks more like a druid robe than a wedding dress and enough jewelry to cover me head to foot. It’s not my style in any way, but I don’t have the heart to refuse their kind generosity.
After dinner and shopping, Dan and I go back up to our hotel room. I put on the dress and beaded jewelry, leaving my hair loose and making a little more effort with my makeup than normal. I look better than I expected when I come out of the bathroom, and the look Dan gives me verifies that I’m wedding ready.
Dan himself is wearing a pair of gray trousers with a blue Oxford. He bought us wedding rings from one of the vendors at the conference, so they’re gold bands inset with moonstones.
He can’t seem to stop smiling as we head downstairs to meet the others and walk en masse to the wedding chapel.
“You’re having way too much fun with this,” I murmur to him in the elevator.
“Are you saying you’re not having fun?” He brushes some of my hair back behind my shoulder.
“I might be having a little bit of fun. Never in my boring, hardworking life would I have dreamed of doing anything this crazy.”
“Then I’m glad you’re doing it now.” He leans down to brush a kiss against my lips. It’s the lightest of touches, but no one we know is around, so he has no real reason for doing it.
It makes excitement and pleasure jolt up and down my spine, but I do my best to ignore it.
We meet a group of about twenty-five conference attendees down in the lobby, and they join us for the wedding. The ceremony is simple and straightforward—just vows and exchanging the rings. But we sign official marriage documents, so at the end of it we’re married for real.
The others take us for drinks, and then we all go up to the rooftop to howl at the moon, a performance that starts with ceremonial solemnity and ends with tipsy eccentrics dancing with wild abandon.
Some of them even take off their clothes.
Dan convinces me to dance with him, and we have a fairly vanilla slow dance. He kisses me occasionally, and I know it’s for show. We’re supposed to be newlyweds after all.
But I can’t help but respond to him anyway, deepening the kisses when I should know better.
The whole experience ends up being intensely surreal and leaves me in a soft, fuzzy state, which isn’t like me at all.
I haven’t even drunk very much. There’s no reason for me to be feeling this way.
It’s almost two when we finally make our excuses and head back down to our room even though most of the others are still partying and/or chanting full force.
Dan is relaxed and still chuckling softly as we step into our room. He locks the dead bolt behind us. Then looks down at me in the entryway. “So.”
I gulp. “So.”
“I guess we’re married. It’s done.”
“Yeah. It’s done.”
“How are you feeling?”
I’m feeling like every cell in my body wants to hurl itself at Dan in a passionate embrace. I’ve never known anyone like him before, and everything inside me wants him.
Wants him.
I know we’re supposed to be smart. I know we should control ourselves and keep things safe and professional between us. But I’m evidently not as strong and self-controlled as I’d like to be.
Dan is warm and handsome and sincere and kind and intelligent and unafraid of being silly or getting embarrassed. He’s big and sexy and laughing and only inches away from me right now.
His eyes change as I stare up at him. “What’s going on right now?”
I don’t have an answer for him. Not with words anyway. But I know the right answer deep in my heart.
And at the moment I’m not afraid of it. At all.
I reach up to touch his face. “Dan.”
“Are you sure?” he asks thickly, something hot and hungry igniting in his eyes.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“Thank God,” he mutters, pulling me closer and then leaning down into a kiss. “I was afraid we’d only have that one time.”