“In one hour!” I screech.
“I’m not giving you a chance to change your mind.”
“I haven’t even seen my gown yet.”
“It’s lovely!” he shouts from the hallway. “Phoebe picked it out.”
Fifty-five minutes later, I’ve been transformed into an honest to goodness bride. I’m never going to hear the end of it from Phoebe, but the gown she picked out is perfect. How did she know? It’s a strapless hi-low gown in white silk. And by the way, hi-low means knee-high length in the front and floor-length in the back. Yeah, I didn’t know that either.
The suite door opens and Grayson walks in wearing a dark gray tuxedo. My mouth waters and I feel flush. I didn’t think the man could get any better looking. I was wrong.
“You’re beautiful.” While I’ve been staring at the – gulp – groom. He’s been staring at me. Actually not me. My breasts that are straining against the front of the gown. He leans forward to kiss me, and I scream.
“No. Lipstick!” For good measure, I hold my hand up in front of my mouth. “The crew took ten minutes to do my lips alone. I want to look perfect in the pictures. You did hire a photographer, didn’t you?”
Grayson holds his elbow out to me. “Yes. I promise everything is arranged and you’re going to love it.”
I don’t bother denying it. So far, the man is hitting it out of the ballpark. “You are so getting laid tonight.”
He chuckles as we walk to the elevator.
“How far do we have to walk? I’m not sure I can wear these heels for more than five minutes.” When did Phoebe ever get the impression I can wear five-inch heels? Oh shit, Phoebe. And Hailey. They’re going to kill me.
Grayson squeezes my hand. “No one is going to kill you. As long as you go ahead with the wedding reception planned for next weekend everything is fine.”
“Wedding reception next weekend? Is there anyone who didn’t know about our elopement before me?”
He cringes and looks away. “Um.”
“You are not to be believed.” The elevator doors open and I stomp out. This doesn’t go well for me when the little itty bitty heels hit the slippery marble floor. My right leg flies up and I’m pretty sure I flash everyone in the hotel.
Grayson wraps his arm around my waist and steadies me. “It wouldn’t be a wedding without klutzy Suzie in attendance.”
“Oh, hush you. Where are we going?”
“Come on.” He takes my hand and leads me toward an exit. The exit opens to the large body of water surrounding the hotel also known as the Grand Canal. A white gondola awaits us.
“Get out of here! We’re getting married in a gondola!” I clap but manage to stop myself from jumping up and down. We all know how well moving in these high heels works for me. As in it doesn’t.
A man in a blue and white striped shirt and red sash smiles. “Good afternoon. Mr. Neill and soon-to-be Mrs. Neill.”
“Hold up. I never agreed to take your name.”
Grayson rolls his eyes. “You are seriously the most stubborn person I know. I don’t care if you take my name. Now, get your gorgeous ass in the gondola so we can get married and start making babies.”
“Um…” The gondolier’s eyes widen. “You can’t …er…”
I slap the man. “He doesn’t mean right here, right now. We’ll save the naked festivities for our suite. Don’t you worry.”
He sighs as he helps me into the gondola. Grayson sits next to me.
“Who’s going to marry us? Elvis?” I giggle. Elvis has to marry you if you’re in Vegas, doesn’t he?
“I am not getting married by Elvis,” Grayson growls. “A celebrant will perform the ceremony. Ah, here he is now.”
A man smiles down at us as he takes the seat across from us. The gondolier pushes off from the side and we’re off. I can’t help giggling.
“Stop giggling. This is important.” Grayson isn’t annoyed though. I can see the humor in his eyes.