Janice Maynard - Twins on the Way

“You’re very smart, aren’t you?”

He chuckled. “Any third grader worth his salt can spot those.”

She half turned in her seat, forcing him to release her hand. She couldn’t see his expression very well. “There’s one more place I need to go, just a quick stop, and then I’d very much like to return to your hotel. For real this time. You know...to—”

He put a hand over her mouth. “Don’t say it out loud. I’m on a hair trigger. But I’m trying to behave myself.”

A sudden gust of wind made her shiver. At night the desert temperatures plummeted. She wanted to cuddle into the warmth of his embrace, but if she did, they might not make it back to the hotel. And while she was prepared to lose her innocence with him, she would prefer her first time to be in more traditional surroundings.

She settled for nipping his fingers with her teeth. The naughty bite drew a groan and a curse from him. He gripped her shoulders. “You’re playing with fire, Cass. I’m not averse to taking you over the hood of the car. Is that what you want?”

The possibility that he might decide to do just that made her melt inside. She could see herself, spread-eagled, Gavin lifting her skirt from behind and moving against her. She felt lost in an emotional desert, desperate for water. The inside of her mouth was like sand. “No.” Yes. Yes. Yes.

He released her and sat back in his seat. “Then let’s get out of here.”

* * *

Gavin wondered if she had spiked his wine somehow. He was more aroused than he could ever remember, his body trembling with the need to mate with hers. Perhaps it was the magic of this perfect night or her radiant beauty or the laughter they shared. But whatever the reason, he scarcely knew himself.

Going along with her lead was a signal of his trust, though he might be falling through a rabbit hole for the second time in his life. His hunger eradicated most of his reservations, though the wariness lurked at a subterranean level. Once they were back in sight of neon and fake waterfalls and massive pleasure palaces, it occurred to him to ask where they were going.

Cassidy gave him an impish grin. “No visit to Vegas is complete without seeing an all-night wedding chapel. My cousin is an Elvis impersonator. I want you to meet him. Besides, I promised him I’d stop by and see him tonight, because he’s bored.”

“Now?” It was the wee hours of the morning.

“Yeah. Robbie is being punished with the overnight shift for a few weeks. He didn’t renew his license when he was supposed to, and he married several couples whose weddings turned out to be illegal. He almost got fired over it, but the boss has a soft spot for him, because Robbie can actually sing. So while they’re waiting for his new license, he’s stuck vacuuming the chapel and doing paperwork.”

“What happens if a couple actually comes in wanting to get married?”

“Robbie calls the boss and wakes him up so he can dash over here.” She parked the car at the curb in front of an improbably pink edifice decorated with white doves. It looked as if a bottle of Pepto-Bismol had thrown up.

“Good lord. Do people actually do this?”

Cassidy shook her head as she got out of the car. “You’d be surprised.”

Inside, Robbie was visibly grateful for the company. “How’s it hangin’, Cass? I haven’t seen you since Uncle Bobo’s birthday party.”

“I’m good,” Cass said. “This is my friend Gavin.”

Robbie appeared to be about the same age as Cass, but it was hard to tell for sure. He wore a white Elvis suit with a matching cape lined in electric-blue satin. His hair, and it looked real, was coal black with huge sideburns. “Very nice to meet you, sir.”

Gavin winced inwardly. Sir? Did he really look that old? “Cassidy has been giving me a tour of Vegas. She said we had to stop here to make the night complete.”

Cass’s eyes met his. She shot him a look to which Robbie was oblivious...a look that said something entirely different would make the night complete. Gavin’s brow dampened. How long could a man wait for a woman like this?

Robbie lifted a hand. “Follow me. I’ll show you the Chapel of Love.”

When Gavin muttered under his breath, Cass smacked his hand. “Be nice,” she whispered. “This is the first job Robbie has been able to keep. We try to encourage him.”

Gavin curbed his impatience as Robbie gave them the grand tour. When they stood in front of the altar, Robbie donned a white robe and stepped behind the podium. “Take her hands,” he said pompously.

“Is this a shotgun wedding?” Gavin was only half kidding. But he took Cassidy’s hands in his and faced her.

His faux bride frowned. “Not to worry. We don’t have the paperwork. But I’m pretty sure Robbie could use the practice, if you don’t mind.”

Robbie grimaced. “Forgot something already.” He stepped to one side and picked up a bottle of champagne. Popping the cork with a surprisingly practiced motion, he filled two flutes and handed one to Cassidy and one to Gavin.

Cassidy took a sip. “Wait a minute. Are you going to charge me for this?”

“On the house,” Robbie said, snickering.

Gavin drained his drink, eager to finish whatever it took to get Cassidy back to his hotel room. When the room spun just a tad, he second-guessed the champagne.

Cass set her mostly full glass aside and took his hand again. “Go ahead, Robbie. What comes next?”

“Um...” He fumbled for his notes. “Do you, Cassidy Lavinia Corelli, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Gavin grinned. “Lavinia?”

His bride scowled at him. “Oh, hush.” She turned to Robbie. “You’re doing fine,” she said. “And yes, I do.”

Robbie gave Gavin a sober stare that lost something in the translation thanks to his attire. “Do you, Gavin...?” He stumbled to a halt.

“Gavin Michael Kavanagh...” Gavin felt sorry for the kid if he was really this inept when it came to his job.

“Do you, Gavin Michael Kavanagh , take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

For a split second, Gavin felt the earth shift beneath his feet. His brain was mush, definitely impaired thanks to lack of sleep and alcohol. But one thing was perfectly clear. If he had ever daydreamed of his wedding day—and that was something a guy definitely did not do—the woman he might have envisioned would be a clone of Cassidy Corelli.

Clearing his throat, he forgot about the late hour and the goofy Elvis and the fact that he hated Vegas. Instead, he looked into long-lashed eyes that were clear and guileless. A tiny smile played around lips curved into a perfect ruby bow. The only flaw he could see was her wind-tossed hair, and even that wasn’t so bad, because it made him think of sex.

Robbie backed up and started again. “Do you, Gavin—”

Gavin held up his hand, stopping the vow prompt midsentence. Gripping Cassidy’s fingers, he imagined what it was going to feel like when she was soft and naked in his bed. “I do,” he muttered. “I definitely do. And now I’m going to kiss my bride.”

Three

Cassidy had heard the term swept off her feet , but she had never actually experienced the phenomenon. The moment when Gavin scooped her up against his chest was both emotionally and physically exhilarating. Her heart pounded and her stomach fluttered.

It was ridiculously retro to be aroused by a man’s physical strength, but damn...Gavin Kavanagh was a sexy beast. Ever since Rhett Butler carried Scarlett O’Hara up that grand staircase to have his wicked manly way with her, women had secretly judged a guy’s swoon factor by how easily he could heft his lover.

Cassidy could stand to lose ten pounds. But Gavin lifted her as if she weighed no more than a child. Oh, my...