“Hey, hey there, bay-be!” the Elvis impersonator called out joyfully as we entered the chapel.
He thrust his hips in the air.
“Hell, yeah,” Kingsley said. “Let’s do this.”
“I haven’t written anything,” I protested as he unwrapped a piece of paper from his jeans pocket.
It was criss-crossed with marks and lines where he’d marked something out and tried it again.
“Listen,” he said, his chest heaving. “Rosalie St. James, you arenotthe sunshine in my sky.”
At this, Elvis gave an audible gasp, but I could feel a smile tugging at my lips. “Instead, you are the dark and deadly raven across my path. A panther waiting to pounce. You are the thing with claws. And that is hot.”
I attempted to keep my face looking earnestly at him.Must not laugh.
Oh, god, he’d worked so hard on this, adorable man.
Elvis’ eyes rolled around in a circle as Kingsley listed out various explicit things he promised to do on a daily basis as a loving husband, and then he cleared his throat.
“Almost losing you was the biggest damn mistake in my life and if you hadn’t forgiven me I would have probably fallen down and not gotten up. I love you so much and I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it.”
My eyes filled with happy tears, and there could have been so many poetic things to say, but I just threw my arms around his neck and kissed him.
“I love you,” I whispered in his ear as I felt his tears leak onto my cheeks and he clutched the back of my head tighter.
And then it was done and Elvis was warbling away as we walked outside to a sleek dark limo, all decorated inside and out with dozens of scarlet red roses.
“We’re married!” Kingsley yodeled, sticking his head out of the top of the limo, and hollering at the top of his lungs.
“I love my wife!” he roared, ripping at his shirt, tearing it so it hung in shreds off his body.
Ever since he hadnotgotten the leading role in the Hosier biopic he had been a bigger dirtbag than ever.
“This is regrettable and unhinged behavior,” I said, but I didn’t resist when he pulled me up beside him, one arm firmly around my waist.
“Let’s get matching wedding tattoos.”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “That’s a pretty big commitment. I could get out of that quickie marriage pretty easily, but a tattoo? Give me a few months to consider it.”
“Hell no,” he growled as I put one hand on his muscular chest. “You won’t be going anywhere. We belong together. Forever. I love you.”
Then he propped up on the roof of the limo as I rolled my eyes.
“Say it,” he hissed in my ear, biting my earlobe.
“Fine, damn. You’re a lunatic. I love you.”
He grabbed the bottle of champagne and popped it open, then sprayed it all over the two of us.
I laughed as the sticky droplets landed on my hair, my face, my dress, and I opened up my tongue to catch them.
He yanked me closer, my dress riding up my thighs as he wrapped my legs around his waist and pressed our bodies together with sticky, lascivious heat.
Then he ran his tongue up my throat, collecting all the sticky drops on his tongue and making my nipples tauten.
“I’m going to lick and fuck every bit of this off you in this backseat.”
Just then, I saw someone I recognized over Kings’ shoulder.
