Forever Pucked (Pucked 4)

“So…does that mean you wanted to be a man of the cloth?” I ask.

“A man of the loin cloth!” Miller smacks his thigh.

No one else laughs.

Lance rolls the bottle between his palms. “A friend needed a favor a while back. I got internet certified. But it’s legit.” The phrase comes out sounding distinctly Scottish. “Anyway, the offer is there. Whatever you decide.”

“That would awesome. If we can find a place that will let you do it, and as long as it’s legal and binding.”

“Don’t want yer girl gettin’ away?” Lance laughs.

“Nope.”

We spend the next hour combing the area for churches. It’s not much of a surprise that getting access to one isn’t easy on such short notice, but a sizable donation is always a great incentive to let people have what they want.

We take a trip out to visit the location and make sure what we’re seeing on the internet matches the actual interior. It’s a beautiful church—much nicer than the chapels on the Strip, particularly the ones that have an annulment center next door.

I send the information to Violet, who seems excited by the prospect of a real church, and is as surprised as I was that Lance is ordained.

I get a text from her later informing me that the girls are going to watch beefcakes get naked, and it was her mother’s idea. I’m not surprised. Skye’s a bit of a wild one.

We don’t end up at a strip club, which would’ve been awkward with Sidney and Miller. I’d feel weird looking at naked women with my fiancée’s dad and brother around, step or not. Instead we hit the casino, where girls dance half-naked on little stages anyway, so it’s almost the same thing.

Around midnight we head back to the room. I’m buzzed and looking forward to some easy loving: boob sex and a couple soft orgasms with my tongue for Violet. Except my room is empty of Violet and almost all of her things. For a few harrowing moments I panic, thinking she’s changed her mind. Then I see the note on the bed.

Apparently I’m not going to see her until we get to the church tomorrow.

-&-

In the middle of the night I’m woken by the sound of my door opening. I haven’t been able to sleep all that well—too excited and nervous, I guess.

“Alex?”

“Baby?” I can make out her shadowy form, but it’s dark in the room. “What are you doing in here? I thought I wasn’t going to see you until the wedding.”

She feels her way closer, her hand coming to rest on my sheet-covered ankle. “I couldn’t sleep.” A low thud follows, and Violet hisses.

I sit up and reach for her, pulling her closer. She’s wearing a robe—satin, not terry. She drops down on the edge of the bed, and I bring her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles. “Are you nervous?”

“No. Maybe a little. I wrote my vows. I think I’ll have to hold cue cards.”

I smile in the darkness. “No one will care.”

“You’ll have yours memorized.”

“I can hold a piece of paper if it’ll make you feel better.”

She runs her hand over my chest, pushing the covers down. “Okay.”

“You want to lie down with me for a while?”

I see her head move in the darkness, but instead of answering she climbs over my body and pushes her way through the sheets to lie next to me. “I know it’s silly, but I didn’t want to sleep without you tonight.”

I slide my arm under her head and hold her close. “You’re going to be my wife in less than twelve hours.”

She presses her nose against my neck and kisses my collarbone. “I know. I can’t wait.”

“Should I set an alarm?” I’m already settling into her warmth.

“I’ll just stay here for a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

She puts her hand on my chest, over my heart. I lace my fingers through hers and close my eyes again.

-&-

The door to the room bursts open, shocking me awake. “I can’t find—” Skye’s shoulders drop. “Oh, thank God.”

Violet lifts her head and blinks groggily. She’s been drooling on my chest, and her face and hair are damp from falling asleep on me.

“’S goin’ on?” She swipes her hand across her mouth.

“Do you have any idea how much you scared all of us?” Skye asks in an overly loud voice. “We thought you’d been kidnapped!”

“What? Why would you think that?” Violet’s voice is raspy with sleep. It has an inconvenient effect in present company.

Charlene peeks her head in. “See? I told you she’d be in here.”

“I woke up and you were gone! Do you know how worried I was? And you.” Skye points a finger at me. “You’re not supposed to encourage this. You were supposed to have a last night apart to make the anticipation more anticipatory for tonight.”

“What year is this? Nineteen-twenty? Do I even have the right to vote?” Violet’s awake enough for snark, but apparently not quite with it enough to realize I’m sporting a solid case of morning wood. She throws back the covers before I have a chance to react. I’m wearing boxer briefs. They’re white. They cover the issue, but they don’t in any way hide what’s happening.