“Yes, I want to tell you in my own wordshow much I will love and cherish you all the rest of my days.”
“Good, me too.”
“She also wants to know what song we wantto dance to as husband and wife. You know our song.”
“I’m pretty sure you can handle that one,Kate.” Cole reaches across the table, taking my hand.
“I think you should pick it.” This takesCole by surprise.
“Me? You’re much better at the gushy,love music. I wouldn’t know where to even start.”
“What kind of music do you like?”
“Jazz, hip hop, easy listening—dependingon my mood.”
“You can start there.”
“Don’t you want an Elvis song?”
“That’s just it. I probably would pick anElvis song. You put up with my Elvis obsession, and I want something we bothlike. So that in the years to come, whenever we hear our song, we’ll rememberour wedding day. Well, our second wedding day. More importantly, it will bringthe memory of love we felt for each other on that day. The love we still havefor each other.”
“What if you don’t like the song?” Coleturns my hand over, running soft circles along my palm.
“I thought about that. But I don’t thinkI will dislike it. I know you don’t do anything halfway, and whatever you pickwill be perfect for us.”
“Talk about pressure.”
“Oh please. This from the guy who makesmillion-dollar business deals for a living.” I tease.
“Yes, Kate, but you mean more to me thanany business.”
I stretch my hands above my head, lettingthe wind slap them as we drive home. “I love the lights of Las Vegas. They’reso bright and inviting.”
“That’s the idea. The lights say comeplay and stay and spend lots and lots of money.”
“Well, I like it,” I say, thoroughlycontent at the moment.
“Yes, Las Vegas is a great place.”
A large, black car pulls up next to us,slowing down. At first, I think it’s Luke and Keaton; they were somewherebehind us. When I glance over at the car; it’s not an Escalade, but some kindof large looming black SUV. Cole notices it, too. His hands flex and tightenaround the steering wheel. He slows down, and the black SUV slows down too. Ihang my hand out of the side, trying to seem carefree. Both cars turn right,onto a four-lane road, the black SUV on the far left side and us in a middlelane.
Cole’s phone rings and he picks it up onthe Bluetooth, so it’s over the speakers of the car. “Coulter, find a place topullover, wherever, it doesn’t matter.” Luke’s voice rings through thespeakers, sounding matter of fact. Cole moves over a lane and the SUV followssuit, and then does it again when we move into the far right lane. I rest myhead back against the seat, trying to look calm on the outside, but on theinside, my heart is frantic, my stomach in knots. I want to take Cole’s handfor reassurance, but that’s probably not the smartest idea since he needs touse both to drive. So I reach my hand out, just skimming it on the edge of histhigh.
He glances at me without expression butquickly turns his attention back to the road. “Up here, the next intersection,make a right.” Luke echoes through the car. Cole speeds along, showing nointentions of slowing down to turn. At the last second, he slams on his brakesjust as the black SUV tries to side swipe us but only catches the front bumper,causing the Ferrari to screech to a halt, and I’m whipped forward.
The SUV swerves back onto the road,driving away.
“Kate, Kate, are you okay?” He grabs myface, pushing my hair out of it.
“I’m okay, it’s okay,” I say, winded.“Are you okay?” I look him over; his driver side airbag deployed, and he has abloody nose. “Cole.” I gingerly touch his nose. “Your nose is bleeding.”
“It’s nothing. You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, a bit tousled is all.” Luke andKeaton rush up to the car.
“Are you two okay?” Luke asks.
“Cole, his nose.”
