Instead, I look at her.
"I do," she repeats the two words she’d said earlier.
Elvis looks at me, eyes all serious, like it’s do or die. "And do you, Avery Jones, take this woman—Olive Herring—to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do," I croak out. The weight of what we’ve just committed to hits me like a truck.
Marriage.
To a woman I barely even know.
And yet…
"Mr. Jones, you may now kiss your bride."
Fuckingfinally.
I step closer, cupping her cheeks in my hands, my thumbs brushing along her jaw.
She leans into me, closing the last inch between us.
"Can I?" I whisper, dipping my forehead to hers and forgetting, for a second, that we’re not alone.
"Only because you asked nicely."
She’s on her tiptoes a moment later, her soft lips grazing mine, parting when my tongue swipes across.
It’s delicate, quick, and over too soon, leaving me wanting more, even as I remind myself to respect the line we’re walking.
"Think we can sneak back to the hotel without getting caught by paparazzi?" she asks, her doe eyes shimmering with desire and devilry.
It’s music to my ears.
"I can have us back there in five minutes." I pull away from her, our locked hands rising in the air while our witnesses cheer as we make our way down the aisle.
"Make it three, and you’ve got yourself a deal," she says.
I neverback down from a challenge.
When my phone buzzes in my pocket, I pull it out and see my manager’s name flash across the screen.
I already know he’s about to make this easier for us.
Orlando Davis
Sneak out the back. Wellington is waiting with the car. I’ve got you covered.
P.S, I knew you wanted her. There was nothing fake about that kiss.
I flash a smile in his direction and guide my new bride toward our escape.
Chapter thirty-one
Olive
Everythingwasgoingsowell.
We made it back to his hotel room in just under five minutes—couldn’t quite manage it in three—and I had his shirt peeled off before the door even had a chance to click shut behind us.
