Kade squinted at the ceiling. “That’s right. He was handing out flyers.”
“Everyone in Vegas hands out flyers pimping one business or other.” She continued flipping the memories in her head. “I’m drawing a blank—no, wait.” She held up a finger. “The flyer was for one of those specialty, quick and easy wedding chapels.”
“Like ordering a square burger at White Castle?” The question was clear in his tone.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“We went inside.” It wasn’t really a question, but she nodded again. “Everyone was dressed like Elvis.”
Pictures were coming up in her mind. “We joked there must be an Elvis convention in town.”
Bobbing his head, he chuckled. “That’s right. I said how could a wedding in a place like that be legal, and you told me a wedding in Vegas is a legally binding wedding no matter who the preacher was.”
“I doubt Elvis was a preacher.” She looked at the license again, curious who signed it. “Albert Gleeson JCC. Justice of the City Courts.”
“And Elvis impersonator,” Kade muttered.
Room service arrived with food and beverage. Kade directed him to put the tray on the table. He gave the man a cash tip and proceeded to pour her a cup of tea. “Cream or sugar?”
“Milk, no sugar.” She accepted the cup he handed her and waited for him to pour his own coffee. This man was racking up the good guy points. Thoughtful, considerate, calm. Any of the men she’d known in her life, however briefly, would have been blowing steam out of their ears by now. Picking up a piece of toast, she took a sip of her tea, watching Kade inhale his coffee and devour a breakfast sandwich. When they’d each finished their first cups and gone for refills, she sat down again and finally spoke. “What I can’t remember or figure out, is why did we get married?”
Downing the last sip of his second cup, Kade set the empty mug down on the nightstand. “Your lease is up.”
“What?”
“The cobwebs are clearing out. You told me that your lease is up, the rent is going up, and there are no cheaper decent apartments available. I mentioned you should move to Texas.”
“That’s right.” Her cobwebs, as he put it, were clearing too. “Wide-open spaces, beautiful sunsets, and lots of good colleges.”
“You talked about going back to school. Doing something different with your life.”
She nodded. All of it was true, but sadly, talk was probably all it would ever be.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he heaved a deep sigh. “And that’s when I suggested if you come home with me and play Mrs. Kade Sweet, after the first year and the big payout, I would give you enough for a down payment on a house of your own.”
Suddenly the entire conversation replayed in her mind. “I said yes.”
“And we got married.” His gaze darted to the bed and back. “I would’ve been gone most of the time anyhow whether TDY or returning to my team. I promised in name only. No hanky-panky. No shenanigans.” He snuck another sideways glance at the bed. “I’m sorry. Note to self: stop after one Punchbowl.”
“Ditto.” Shifting in her seat, she tried to understand all the emotions running through her. Confusion, embarrassment, a little fear, and a lot of regret. But the surprising thing was the regret. Not for what she’d done, but that she wouldn’t get a chance to accompany this man to Texas and help save his ranch.
His “I don’t suppose…” tumbled over her “What if…”
They both laughed. That was something else they’d done a lot last night. Both before and after the impromptu Elvis wedding.
“You first,” he offered.
“Okay.” She struggled for the right words. “Maybe, even though we were definitely three sheets to the wind, maybe the plan isn’t so crazy.”
His eyes widened.
“I mean, you do need a wife and I need a change.”
“You’d do that?”
How could she explain she’d never had anything really her own, no purpose, and frankly, no place had ever felt like home. What did she have to lose testing the waters in Texas? “If you’d like me to.”
“Just to clarify, you’re proposing we follow through with the original drunken agreement? A pretend marriage to fool my mom and the bank and secure the ranch?”
