EIGHT
Tennessee
Rings? Check.
Marriage license? Check.
After hitting up Cartier, we hailed a cab and headed downtown to the Clark County Marriage License Bureau, which Google informed me is conveniently open until midnight, 365 days a year. Guess they weren’t kidding when they named Vegas the “wedding capital of the world.”
You’d think the people who work there have seen it all, but the woman behind the counter didn’t have much of a sense of humor. She didn’t think it was funny in the slightest when I asked Caroline for her last name while filling out the application.
Thankfully Caroline thought it was funny. The last thing I want is her getting cold feet, especially since mine are toasty warm.
At the altar, Elvis and I are waiting for the ceremony to begin. “From one king to another,” he drawls in his signature accent, “I’ve got to tell you what a huge fan I am. All of us here at the Palisades Hotel and Casino are honored to serve the new king of rock n’ roll on his wedding night.”
As far as Elvis impersonators go, he’s pretty good. Looks like him before he got all bloated. And that’s either the best damn wig I’ve ever seen or that’s his real hair styled into a pompadour.
“Thanks,” I say, forcing a smile at the grown man in the bedazzled white jumpsuit next to me.
I’m always happy to meet a fan, but they pop up at some of the most inopportune times. Like the police officer who asked for my autograph after he arrested me for assault, or the girl who took a selfie with my unconscious body while I napped on a first class flight from New York to LA.
Sometimes I just want the anonymity everyone else takes for granted. Tonight’s definitely one of those nights.
Guilt eats at me the longer I think about it. Here I am wishing for more privacy when I’m about to rob Caroline of hers. Her life will never be the same after tonight and she has no idea what she’s signing up for.
I’m a real bastard for doing this. Especially after all that shit I spouted off about being honest with her…
Just when I contemplate finding her and telling her everything before it’s too late, “Can’t Help Falling In Love” starts playing through the chapel’s speakers. The double doors open and “Priscilla” starts walking down the aisle, sprinkling rose petals on the floor.
Shit. In the words of Elvis, it’s now or never.
I take a step in that direction, but stop dead when Caroline appears in the doorway. At least I think it’s Caroline. She’s wearing the same clothes but I don’t recognize the long mane of red curls framing her face.
Dumbfounded, I watch her walk toward me. “What…?”
She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear, growing shy. “If you’re going to marry me, then it should be the real me. Not the girl I pretend to be when I’m dancing.”
Yep, I’m officially the biggest asshole on the planet.
And it’s just my fucking luck that she’s actually a redhead. They’re my kryptonite.
Cupping her face, I rest my head against hers. “This, right here—this is what matters, right?”
She nods.
Encouraged, I kiss her forehead. “I’ve lived in the moment all my life, never once stopping to think of the consequences. It was selfish of me, but I figured it didn’t matter. The only person I was hurting was myself. But now… Now I’m not the only person who could get hurt. I may not have been the best person, but I promise you, sweet Caroline, I will be the best husband. If tomorrow comes and you’re only able to remember one thing from tonight, remember that.”
It’s not the same as telling her the truth and I’m sure there’ll be hell to pay for it tomorrow, but right now I can’t not marry this girl. I just can’t.
Caroline nods, smiling despite the tears welling in her eyes. “I will.”
“Do you have any words you’d like to say, lil’ mama?”
Elvis’s voice shatters our little bubble of bliss, reminding us that we’re not alone.
“Oh, uh…” Caroline wipes at her eyes as Priscilla—our witness—offers to take the bouquet off her hands. “Thanks,” Caroline murmurs as she turns it over. Taking my hands in hers, she sniffles. “Ten, I— Thank you. Thank you for making my night and for showing me that there are still good people in the world. You were compassionate when you didn’t have to be and respectful when most guys wouldn’t have been. You’re a true gentleman, despite what you think.” She smiles at that before continuing. “I tend to be cynical most of the time, but I never once doubted your authenticity. And for the record, what we’re doing is absolutely insane…but I like your crazy. It matches mine.”
The grin that splits my cheeks is so wide it almost hurts.
“Who has the rings?” Elvis asks.
Priscilla steps forward and hands him the rings. “Caroline, honey, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband for better or worse, in sickness and health, till death parts you?”
“I do.”
He hands me Caroline’s pavé diamond eternity band. “Go on and place that ring on your bride’s finger, son.”
Holding her hand, I slip it on her ring finger.
“And Tennessee, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife for better or worse, in sickness and health, till death parts you?”
“Fuck yeah, I do.”
He hands Caroline my platinum wedding band and she slides it on me. Neither one of us can stop smiling. We probably look like a couple of drunk idiots, but then again, we are.
“By the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Go on and kiss your beautiful bride.”
I pull her to me and kiss her as the opening chords of “Sweet Caroline” fill the chapel. She grins against my mouth but doesn’t stop kissing me.
I hope she never does.