He shrugged and tugged me towards the far wall. “I’m marrying you to protect you. I can’t protect you if I’m part of the problem. Your selling your body in exchange for my protection is too much like what…” He trailed off and didn’t finish the statement.
What broke me? What drove me crazy? What I did with Clint, who I didn’t want to talk about so much that I decided to get married instead? I ran a hand through my hair only to have it catch on all the extensions, braids, curly bits that the costume people had put in.
“You don’t have to marry me,” I whispered.
He squeezed my hand almost painfully for a second, looking at me with something in his eyes that looked like forever. His words were soft, but stronger than steel. “You’re right. I don’t. I don’t have to do anything, which is how you know that it’s what I want. I just didn’t realize it until you mentioned it. Cheesecake and marriage are practically the same thing. I mean, after that finale, how could I possibly not want to marry you?”
I squeezed his hand back and smiled, feeling a little less panicked. “The part where I shamelessly ruined Elgar, or the part where I fell over backwards?”
“The part where you played our theme song. Every villain should have a theme song. We can be one of the famous romances like Bonnie and Clyde or Joker and Harley Quinn.”
I exhaled and felt almost okay again. Even if our theme song was half Scooby Doo, which was ridiculous, it was ours. He was going to marry me even though he knew that I was a villain, but not a very stable one, with so many more issues than anyone should have. He wanted to protect me in spite of everything I’ddone to him, including lying and dumping him in the desert. At least until it was time to destroy me.
The weird thing was that everything was going according to plan and I was completely out of control.
27
VILLAIN
The dress was a feathery, diaphanous thing that didn’t fit perfectly, but it would work. I snuck out of the dressing room, almost running into Jordan on my way out.
He looked at me in the white dress and raised a thick brow. “It doesn’t suit you. Your performance was breathtaking. You deserve much better than that dress.” He snapped his fingers and took my hand, pulling me back into the room towards the back. “I have just the thing.”
“It’s just a wedding dress, for eloping,” I explained.
He sniffed. “’Just a wedding dress,’ she says, like it’s not the single biggest investment piece that most women make. Who are you marrying?”
“Does that matter?”
“Of course it matters. You have to match your potential groom. Blond, brunette, tall, short, slim, broad, these are essentials.”
“Dirk Dagger.”
His brow crooked. “Oh, that will work nicely. He has an excellent classic vibe, a little bit of Dean Martin, a little bit of Cary Grant. We’ll go classic with a twist. I know I havethis adjustable white corset somewhere in here. Your waist is perfect for a ridiculously full skirt.” He grinned. “White tulle is a monster that you’re going to love.”
I was too numb and bewildered to fight with the tailor. He was a master at costume changing, as in I was ready in ten minutes, including the delicate makeup that replaced my hot-pink fallen angel look.
He squeezed my hand before I left. “Don’t look so scared. Dagger’s one of the best people in Vegas. Not that Vegas gets the best people, but he’s a solidly decent human. Everyone’s got to elope in Vegas sooner or later, and you could be doing it with a much worse person.”
I gave him a wry smile. “Thanks, Jordan. Thank you for everything. Your work is phenomenal.”
“You give me a lot to work with, like Trixie. Have fun, you crazy lovebirds.”
With that, I was left with that word, ‘love,’ circling around in my brain, and then I saw Dirk in a tuxedo and it bloomed into a rush of endorphins that only music should give me.
I was going to marry the handsomest man in the world, even if it was just an aside to his otherwise nefarious plot. He held out his hand, and I took it, heart pounding as his palm met mine in a holy pilgrim’s kiss.
“You look stunning,” he said, eyes melting into mine, making my knees go weak.
I swallowed hard, trying to contain the emotions beating inside my chest. “I’ve never seen a man look better in a tuxedo. Have you considered modeling?”
His lips twisted. “You must not see many men in tuxedos. I will model for you anytime you like, Princess Pink. You really do look like a princess. Are you sure you want to do a drive-thru? This dress screams castle in the clouds with a handsome prince.”
I gripped his hand and took a deep breath while my heart tangled with my stomach and butterflies went rampant. “No clouds. No princes. Just two villains running amok. I want pictures of us getting married in Prudence. When I look back on my life, I want that moment.” It would be so ironic and yet real. I wanted to be wrapped in his arms for the rest of my life. That wasn’t possible, but I wanted to pretend.
He brushed my lips with his, sending a shot of pure happiness through me. “I am the tech guy. You will have pictures and plenty of footage of this momentous occasion. I feel like the right thing to do would be to ask you if you’re sure this is what you want, but I’m a villain, and we don’t worry about what’s right.”
“For a little while, we’ll be villains together,” I said, squeezing his hand way too tight. He should have grimaced, but he only raised my hand to his lips.
