Elle smirks. “I’m only saying, they’ll play dirty. This is just the first thing they had to throw at you. They’ll get reception venues to turn you away, have caterers way overcharge on food, the cars will go missing on the day, and I’m sure there’ll be mishaps with the suits, the guest list, the seating plans—”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” My nose twinges as I tug and twist my piercing. “Then I guess … so maybe we keep the plans to ourself or …”
“They’ll find out. They always do.”
I narrow my eyes at Elle. “Are you here to help?”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
Before I can snap back, Madden says, “No, she’s right. We need a fastball.”
“A what?”
“Like, you’ve just gotta get married.”
I pin him with a look. “Is that all? Why have I been wasting time on planning a funeral then?”
He actually rolls his eyes at me. “You need to get marriedtoday.”
And as dramatic a declaration as that is … “That’s impossible.”
“Never say never.”
“No, like, there’s legal shit. Marriage licenses and a venue and someone to marry us and … and …”
“Details. We get it.” Elle’s face is pinched in concentration.
“So, maybe not today, but how long does it take to get a license?” Xander asks.
“Three days.”
“And what’s the soonest you can find someone to marry you?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to call around and—”
“I’ll do it.”
I glance over at the deep voice in the doorway and find Gabe leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. “Y-you would?”
“I’m already ordained. I will literally kick your ass if you ask anyone else.”
My smile is fucking painful.
“I’ll organize decorations,” Xander says. “I’ll paint the most beautiful aisle runner. And I’llmakeflowers. Lots and lots of clay flowers—”
“I’ve got the suits,” Rush adds.
Nerves are stirring, along with excitement, and so many other wonderful things coming alive in my gut. Maybe his gran is getting off easy, but none of them are going to be happy with me in the family, and they’re not going to be happy with what Émile plans to do with his money, either.
“This … could work?”
Xander claps his hands. “Seven could design you some awesome invitations.”
“But then people will know there’s a wedding, and his family will have time to stop us.”
We drift into productive silence again. It’s like a choose your own adventure book, where every solution has five possible outcomes, and I don’t know how to look that far ahead. All I know is that in life, there are no do-overs. This is our only chance to make it work.
“Why don’t you run off to Vegas?” Seven asks.