Runaway Groom (I Do, I Don't 2)

“You mean your super-awkward speech?” she asks with a smile.

“Shut up. Shut up and marry me, because God, do I want to marry you, and I knew it the second you let me get to second base in a closet. Marry me because I honor my commitments and there’s no commitment more important to me than this one.”

“But—”

“You know what? Think about it. Take all the time that you need, but wear this while you do.” I slip the ring on her finger before she can protest. “Get used to it. Get used to me. Because I’m not going away. Not now that I know you love me back.”

“I really do,” she says lifting her hand to inspect the ring. “Almost as much as I love this diamond.”

I stand and haul her against me. “What do you say? Will you be Mrs. Barrett? Or be Mrs. Wright, I don’t care. Just be mine.”

Her hazel eyes flick to mine. “I’m so sorry, Gage.”

My stomach drops out, and for a horrible moment, I feel dangerously close to crying.

Then I see the teasing smile as she rests both hands on my shoulders and pulls me close. “I would marry you. It’s just…the thing is…I fell really hard and fast for this guy named Mr. Belvedere, and I had my heart set on being Mrs. Belvedere…”

I stop her adorable babbling with a kiss that starts out happy and teasing but turns hot and demanding in a manner of seconds.

“Care to show me your bedroom?” I manage in between kisses, before pulling back and scanning her apartment. I frown when I take in the moving boxes.

“Oh, that.” She kisses my chin. “I’m kinda sorta moving to L.A. I had high hopes that if this certain actor decided not to get married on national TV, maybe I could convince him that he wanted to marry me someday not on national TV.”

I bend my knees slightly to lift her, hoisting her over my shoulder and marching her in the direction of the bedroom.

I give her ass a gentle swat. “You’re perfect for me, Mrs. Belvedere. And I promise you this: we’re going to live very, very happily ever after.”

Epilogue

Ellie

“She can’t be serious,” I say as I take a bite of pepperoni pizza. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

Gage takes a bite of his own pizza, then reaches forward to refill both our wineglasses. “Oh, I’m guessing it’s happening. I heard somewhere that they had sort of a dud the first season. Wouldn’t be surprised if they adjusted the contract to make the marriage stipulation at the end a bit stricter.”

I pick up my glass of zinfandel and give him a look as I take a sip. “Yeah, but the first-season

guy…he was sort of meh, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“You’re not. Have more wine.”

I smile as he refills both our glasses, reaching down to pull the lever on the elaborate theater-style chair in our screening room.

Because, yes, those are the types of perks a girl gets when she marries a guy with a house in the Hollywood Hills. A private screening room that’s sometimes used to host movie nights with friends or Hollywood hotshots, but mostly has been used to watch the second season of Jilted.

I’m a little embarrassed how into the show I am. They’ve changed it up for the second season, first by moving the whole thing to sultry Louisiana rather than Maui, and then by going with a Runaway Bride contestant instead of a Runaway Groom.

I like Violet Simmons a hell of a lot more than I thought I would—for a Vegas showgirl, she’s got a lot more substance than I was expecting. The guys, though? I don’t know. She’s narrowed it down to two, and I’m just not feeling them. I want her to be happy, and it’s not going to be with either of these two overprompted clowns.

I catch Gage smirking and narrow my eyes. “What?”

“For someone who thinks this show is ‘pure trash,’ you’re certainly involved.”

I take another bite of pizza. “Who do you think she’s going to marry?”

He shrugs.

“Oh, come on.” I punch his arm. “Play my game. Surely you have a theory. Is there going to be a twist ending like we had?”