Packing Heat(84)

She was grinning like mad, still clearly running on an adrenaline high. I knew the feeling, and was maybe a little jealous of it. Eventually I dropped her hand as we got a cab, but the feeling of her skin against mine still lingered.

We sped along toward the airport.

Toward Las Vegas.

Toward our damn wedding.

I smirked to myself in the back of the cab, heart pumping, ready.





9





Selena





As far as last-minute flights went, ours was pretty uneventful.

The first flight to Vegas didn’t leave until five in the morning, and so we were stuck sitting around in the terminal all night. I tried to sleep while Nash sat around reading on his phone or whatever he was doing. He didn’t seem particularly talkative, which didn’t exactly surprise me. He wasn’t known as a super chatty guy.

He was a Navy SEAL, after all. He was supposedly a badass, trained to kill in a thousand different ways. Part me of understood that and was afraid of it, and part of me was excited beyond belief.

Eventually, though, we boarded the plane. Nash got us first-class tickets, so the flight out to Vegas was actually pretty comfortable. We both finally got some sleep, thanks in part to the free whisky Nash drank like water.

Eventually, though, the plane landed, and we were out walking into the dry Las Vegas air.

We took a cab to the main strip, and I couldn’t help but gape around us as we walked.

“This is amazing,” I said.

Nash laughed. “Yeah. Looks that way on the outside.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s Las Vegas. This whole damn city is rotten on the inside.”

I frowned at him. “Why are you so pessimistic all the time?”

He shrugged. “Realistic, babe.”

I sighed. “Listen, I need to buy some clothes. I feel disgusting.”

“Here,” he said. He pulled a card from his wallet. “Go get whatever you want. I’ll check us into the Bellagio.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The Bellagio? Isn’t that really fancy?”

“Fuck yes it is,” he said, laughing. “It’s our damn wedding; we might as well go all out.”

“Okay,” I said, smiling despite myself.

“I’m checking in under the name Glen Patton. Ask for that at the front desk. I’ll instruct them to give you a key when you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

He grinned at me. “Welcome to Vegas, wife.”

Without another word, he turned and walked off.

I watched him go for a minute, completely overwhelmed, before walking again. I was looking for somewhere to buy some decent clothes that wouldn’t cost thousands, but I couldn’t exactly find a Gap.

Eventually I wound up in a little boutique, picking out clothes. I got some underwear, a couple shirts, a couple skirts, pants, and finally ended up in the dress section.

I looked around, biting my lip. I felt strange knowing that in a few hours I was going to marry a perfect stranger. And yet my stomach was doing flips from the nerves, and I knew I was excited. The rational part of me was aware that it wasn’t really my wedding day, but I couldn’t help myself.

I’d always thought about what it would be like to get married. I figured it would be to some handsome, kind person who I’d fallen in love with, not some brash, rich asshole who only wanted to use me.

But I was using him too, after all. It was a business deal, plain and simple.

Still, I wanted to look good. I looked through the dresses idly until stopping on the perfect one.

It was revealing, low cut but not too inappropriate. It was more of a cocktail dress than a wedding thing, but it was white. I grabbed it and tried it on.

And it fit. Actually, I looked pretty damn good. I laughed, looking at myself in the dress in the mirror. It hugged my hips and flattered my body in a way I didn’t think was even possible, but there I was.

Wearing my wedding dress.

I got changed back into my regular clothes and went to pay for everything. I was shocked when the cashier told me how much it all would be, but I didn’t worry too much about it.

It was on my new husband, after all.

Smiling to myself, I left the shop and headed toward the Bellagio. I saw the sign in the distance and suddenly felt nervous all over again.

I was going to meet my husband in our hotel room. Then we were going to get married.

That still seemed like madness, even if I knew it was true.

I made my way to the hotel and gave Nash’s fake name at reception. They gave me a key and I made my way up to the top floor.

The Bellagio was all classy decorations and wealth. It was beautiful and chic, the sort of place I could never stay at on my own. The ceilings were huge and people were milling about everywhere. The marble floors were shined to perfection, and I felt completely out of place in the clothes I’d worn for the last day straight.