Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Then Stone has to go and ruin my pledge not to cry by being wonderful again. Because he didn’t just pre-register our license. He also booked a honeymoon suite and a bridal package at a little chapel inside the hotel, complete with a beauty spa visit and a wedding dress for me. I assumed we’d be standing up together in our grimy motorcycle gear, but Stone says something about making this look good for the courts later, so that it appears we got married for all the usual reasons instead of planning a murder.
But it feels like all of the usual reasons. In the spa, I cry my makeup off when it hits me that Matt won’t be there to give me away. Then I tear up again as I take the short walk down the aisle. Stone’s waiting for me in a rented tux, and I laugh a little to see it—because the suit fits him perfectly, so perfectly, wrapping his tall, muscular body in those gorgeous threads. Yet it doesn’t fit him at all. Nothing could truly contain him. I knew that from the first moment I saw him in that video fighting against Paladin. Even then, noticing the sheer vitality and strength and life that seem to simply explode from him. For a while, in the Cage—after Crash—that vitality had dimmed.
No more. As Stone takes my hand, as he tells me that I look absolutely fucking beautiful, that vitality seems to shine from him again, warming me all the way through. Filling me with it, too.
I feel as if I’m glowing when I say my vows—to a man who, only a day ago, swore never to touch me again.
But he does kiss me when the officiant declares us husband and wife. Maybe only to make it look good for the courts and for the photos that come with the wedding package. Oh, but it must look so good—slow and deep and sweet, with his big hands cupping my face and his powerful body pressing close to mine. When he finishes, his kiss eases back into a smile against my mouth, and I laugh even as the tears start up again. But happy tears, this time.
I don’t know why I’m so happy. But I am.
I can’t stop smiling when Stone swings me up into his arms and carries me through the lobby. We receive small smatterings of applause—and in the elevator, we’re given knowing looks that make me blush and turn my burning face against his shoulder. He carries me over the threshold into the honeymoon suite before setting me down.
The suite is decorated in the Vegas version of elegance, with gold and white everywhere. A huge four-poster bed has its own room. Rose petals are strewn across the duvet cover. My heart rate spikes when Stone tugs his bowtie free, regarding me with a hot look that I know so very well. My skin tightens with anticipation.
Then my heart flops painfully into my stomach when he turns away and says gruffly, “I’m heading down to the hotel gym. Blowback sent photos of doctors in Nevada who might fit the doc’s description if you want to start going through them. I wrote the password on that notepad over there.”
The password to his laptop. Because we’re married now. And I’m the info girl.
“Okay,” I whisper to no one. He’s already in the bedroom changing into his gym clothes. I’m all alone, sitting down on a pretty white sofa in a pretty white dress, booting up a computer so that I can find the man who ordered my brother’s murder.
But I’m not crying anymore. I’m not.
At least not until Stone is gone.
* * *
He’s gone for two hours, but I never end up crying. I’m just…numb. And Stone looks completely done in, sweat-soaked and beat, as if he spent the entire time pounding himself to exhaustion.
His gaze darkens as it slips over me. I’m no longer in the wedding dress. Just my jeans and tee. Because I’m not really a bride. Not really a wife.
And I can’t remember why I was so happy.
Voice low, he asks, “Find him?”
I shake my head.
“Yeah, probably too easy. We’ll tell Blowback to dig deeper. But first let me clean up and we’ll order room service, since dinner comes with the whole honeymoon deal.”
I don’t really want a romantic wedding dinner, but I nod.
A muscle in his jaw works before he nods, too. “All right, then.”
Ah god. As soon as I hear the shower start, I bury my face in my hands. Not so numb now. But hurting. So much. And I just want it to stop.
Throat aching, I put on my shoes and a baseball cap, pulling the brim down low. I’m not worried about being recognized by Papa or anyone connected to him. But I won’t be stupid, either.