“Take a deep breath, Chance. It will be fine. Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”
“That makes it scarier,” I whispered in her ear and then ran my tongue across it. If I’d be dead in a few days, the least I could do was enjoy my time with Hope while I had her.
Someone screamed in excitement down the street from us. Heads in all directions turned toward the noise. A group of people dressed up as poorly paid Beach Boys—if I had to guess from the mini surfboards—were getting rowdy.
“Were we supposed to wear costumes?” I asked.
Hope shrugged. “I think anything goes.”
A second scream rattled the crowd, but most people ignored it. We should have bought those matching bride and groom hats they tried to sell us.
“Damn, it’s louder out here than inside,” Hope said and scrunched her lips at the rowdy part of the crowd on the other side of the fountains.
I held her hand as we lounged against the wall. I fucking loved the fact I could hold Hope’s hand any time I wanted now. My fingers squeezed against hers, the ring I’d used in our wedding ceremony rubbing against my skin.
I relished in the feel of that ring on her finger. “We should just skip this and go upstairs.”
Hope flipped her head to the side and gave me her “shut up” eyes. “We’re doing this. Then we’ll go upstairs. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”
My cock jerked at the agreement. “Deal. Did you decide what kind of ring you want when we get home?”
Hope raised our hands in the air to stare at her finger where she had on the cheap band we used for our ceremony. “Something… cute.”
An Elvis impersonator walked in front of us. He paused and agreed to take a picture together with a crowd of young college women and then continued on his way.
I laughed. “Let me know when you figure out what that is.”
We’d gone shopping that afternoon to find a matching set of rings for us, but she’d refused to buy anything. We finally agreed to wait until we made it back to Maine. Hope said the Vegas markup made her sick. She’d looked up every ring on her phone and told the workers where she could get it cheaper. I’m surprised they didn’t kick us out.
Her practicality was one of the many reasons I respected and loved the woman. She wasn’t after me for my money or family connections. Hope just liked me—the fifth grader who made a shitty trade for a cupcake, winning her friendship, heart, and now her hand in marriage.
She wasn’t anything but exactly how she presented herself. With Hope, what you saw was what you got.
“When do your parents get home from their cruise?” I asked as she leaned into me.
A big Minnie Mouse costume sauntered by us, with Minnie wearing a bikini over her signature pink polka dot dress.
“That is disturbing,” Hope said, leaning forward to stare at Minnie. “So wrong.”
I agreed. “The cruise?”
“Oh, right,” she said. “They’re home on the third and my mother will want a large family meal. You can make your debut then.”
“Great.” The entire family would be there. All the brothers. “At least I have a few more days to live.”
We’d fly back on the second and I’d have twenty-four-hours with Hope in Maine before her family came home and we had to spill the beans. I’d relish every second we had together until then.
My parents took the news wonderfully. They couldn’t wait to congratulate their new daughter-in-law in person.
“Stop. You’ll be fine.” She leaned over and kissed me.
I wrapped my fingers through her hair and bit her lip.
Hope pulled away with a laugh.
A man wearing nothing but silver paint rolled by us on a scooter. People jumped out of his way, and he waved as he went. “What in the hell?”
“Human statue,” she said.
