Flash Burned (Burned 2)

The roiling in my stomach overpowered the fluttering.

He continued, as though it weren’t evident I suffered heart palpitations. “If you trust her, we can have your friend officiate.”

“Tamera,” I squeaked out.

“Yes. And we’ll need a couple of witnesses. Ethan, of course. Amano. My lawyer. There will be a lot of paperwork for you to sign. I’ll have to contact him tonight to get started right away.”

My mind reeled. “Um … I … Uh…” Christ. I couldn’t form a single coherent sentence.

Dane’s eyes sparkled, as though this sudden decision was the most brilliant one he’d ever made.

“If you think your dad can handle the news, let’s include him as well.”

I had no clue what possessed me, but I mumbled, “Kyle, too.”

“Not Kyle,” Dane countered emphatically.

I snatched my hand from Dane’s, cogent thoughts suddenly gelling. “Someone has to stand up for me. You get three people. I get three people, Tamera included.”

A much too sexy grin split his lips. “I know better than to argue with you. And I will concede that Kyle has kept our secret, despite not liking us being together.”

“He won’t be happy about this, either,” I grumbled. “But he’s the closest thing I have to a best friend, so from that standpoint, I know he’ll want to be in the loop.”

“Plus, he’ll want that last-ditch attempt to change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind,” I said vehemently. Where that conviction came from I wasn’t entirely sure. Except that pinning down a date, not dragging out an engagement, and knowing I’d be Dane’s wife in twenty-four hours made me absurdly giddy again.

“Then we’re on for tomorrow night?” he asked.

I shook out my hands, trying to get the anxiety to abate. No luck there. And yet, somehow, I knew exactly what I was doing.

“I’ll have to call Tamera, make sure she’s available.” Given that we were talking about a Friday, I suspected that wouldn’t pose a problem.

Something else did, though. A dark thought edged my euphoria, chasing away the certainty I’d experienced moments before. I frowned.

“What is it?” Dane asked.

Dread slithered through me. “I don’t get to plan my own wedding.”

I shifted away from him, pacing restlessly.

“You never wanted a wedding,” he reminded me.

Though he had me on the technicality, I told him, “That was because I never wanted to get married. But obviously things are different now. And damn it, Dane, if I’m going to throw all caution to the wind and do the direct opposite of what I’ve been saying from the beginning, just because the idea of being your wife makes my toes curl and my heart nearly burst from my chest, then … I want a wedding!”

“Ari—”

“I’ve been a bridal consultant for six years, Dane. I’m an event planner at the Lux. Of course I’m going to want to plan my own wedding.”

He folded his arms over his chest once more. Just watching how he ground his teeth told me he searched his brain for the perfect solution.

I waited patiently, though still paced.

Several suspended moments ticked by. Finally, he said, “I don’t want to hold off on this, Ari. I want a ceremony tomorrow night.”

Drawing up short, I demanded, “What’s the rush, Dane?” Granted, I’d invariably fallen in love with this notion and wanted it to happen as quickly as possible, too.

Perhaps before he changed his mind? Came to his senses and realized I wasn’t the be-all, end-all he deserved? That I was no Mikaela Madsen?