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“Hey,” he said. “Great taste in chapels.”
“You like it?”
“What’s not to like?”
Wayne Newton’s voice crooned through hidden speakers and pictures of Wayne coated every available inch of wall. A mannequin resplendently dressed in what a plaque at the bottom claimed was a genuine Wayne-worn suit spun in a slow circle. Everything about the place spoke of fun. Las Vegas-style fun. So why did she feel like bursting into tears?
“Hey?” he asked, cupping her face with his big, work-roughened hands. When had Dallas—an accomplished corporate attorney—ever done a lick of manual labor? “You look like you’re about to spout another eye gusher. Come on, Lil, don’t cry.”
His mentioning the word cry brought on her waterworks. “It’s j-just that I…” She gestured to their surroundings, to the dyed blonde, approaching at eleven o’clock who was dressed in head-to-toe black sequins. “Oh, Dallas…” Lilly threw herself at her groom. “I know I told you this was okay, but I always w-wanted to get married in a ch-church.” Wishing she wasn’t such an emotional basket case, she flashed him an apologetic look, then hefted her skirts in a mad dash for the door marked Powder Room.
“Are we having a problem?” their hostess asked.
Finn shook his head and whispered, “She’ll be fine.”
“I hope so, because…” Finn followed her gaze to a mirrored grandfather clock that was on chime number four of ten.
“We’ve got a big group coming in at ten-thirty. Either you two get the show on the road, or I’m afraid we’ll have to reschedule you for—”
“No,” Finn said, heading for the bathroom door. “No need to reschedule.” At least he hoped not! Not only were Lilly’s amazingly accurate fake tears tugging at his freshly broken heart, but visions of Mitch driving his truck screamed at his pride. The more Lilly stalled, the more Finn knew Mulligan was paying her to be with him. All this wailing had to be another part of the plan designed to yank his chain. Mitch must have told her to keep an eye on him while letting the bet deadline run out. That way, by the time Finn caught on to the scam, it would be too late to find another—less calculating—bride.
After a few minutes, Finn heard sniffles, then the door creaked open. His adorable, pink-cheeked bride peeked out. “A-after all my b-blubbering,” she managed to say, “y-you probably don’t want to marry me, do you?” A single tear glistening on her left cheek pierced his conscience.
Good grief, how had this all gotten so complicated?
Suddenly his scheme to win a thousand bucks and make Mitch look bad had somehow taken a back seat to his desire to once again make Lilly smile. “Of course, I want to marry you, sweetheart.” Sweetheart? “And listen, I was thinking that with this being Sunday morning and all, we could find a church and do this thing right. I mean, our family and friends won’t be there, but…”
“Oh, Dallas!” Although her sobs started anew, he spied a smile mixed in with the tears. His feeling of manly pride almost swelled right out of his chest.
Damn, she was good.
While their hostess gaped, Finn figured he might as well prove to her, too, that he was a grade A, genuine, manly M-A-N, so he swooped his bride into his arms. Though he could barely see past the tufts of flowery-smelling lace tickling his nose, he ushered Lilly out of the chapel and into brilliant sun.
Chapter Three
An hour later, Lilly beamed when Dallas had not only found her a lofty Methodist church to marry in, but an elderly minister with a few minutes to spare between his first and second services.
Standing in sunbeams shafting through decades-old stained glass, never had Lilly felt more sure about one of her decisions. Rich scents of pale pink cabbage roses and fragile lily of the valley wreathed her senses, bringing her to the conclusion that Dallas Lebeaux was a hero among men.
Not only had he found this church, but at a grocery store he had bought her a glorious new bouquet because he had noticed her old one drooping. Then he’d taken it upon himself to make every moment of their revised ceremony complete, all the way down to wonderfully gaudy, gum-ball machine rings. His TLC calmed her bridal jitters, and for the first time since sealing their arrangement, she didn’t feel the slightest bit apprehensive. If anything, she felt oddly excited about the years—and especially, hours—to come.
“Do you, Lillian, take thee Dallas as your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister’s solemn voice echoed in the lofty space.
“I do,” she answered strong and clear.
He turned to Dallas. “Do you, Dallas, take thee Lillian to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“Yeah…I, ah, do.”
“Then by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. Dallas, you may kiss your radiant bride.”
As he did just that, Lilly thought she’d melt with bone-deep satisfaction. Her family would be so proud of the way she’d mended the broken pieces of her life—that is, they’d be proud if they knew what kind of mess she’d gotten into. Thankfully, now, they need never know. Her pregnancy cover-up was a fait accompli.
TWENTY-MINUTES LATER, Finn sat behind the wheel of his wife’s car, driving down a main drag, wondering if taking his marriage vows under another man’s name had broken any laws of man, or just God? Telling the kindly, rushed for time, elderly minister he’d left their marriage license all the way back in the car probably hadn’t been good, either. But hey, if the minister had noticed the discrepancy in names, Lilly would have been clued in on the fact that her groom was onto her scheme. Finn’s stomach churned, but one glance at Lilly did the work of a hundred Rolaids.
Lord, she was a sight to behold.
What was he worried about? He’d already won the bet. Now all he had to do was gloat to Mitch.
Sneaking another peek at his temporary bride, Finn noticed how her golden curls perfectly matched a magnolia smooth complexion that seemed more suited to Mississippi than the dried-up West. “Have you always lived in Utah?” he asked, stopping the car at a red light.
She eyed him funny. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Sure.”
“Then why would you ask me something like that? You know all about my childhood, goofy.”
“Right. How could I forget?” Thankfully, the light changed so he could pretend to focus on driving. “Ready to head back to Greenleaf?”
She shot him a look of horror. “Don’t you remember?”
“What?”
“Dallas?” Sounding hurt, she said, “I made reservations at the Bridal Fair Theme Motel and Casino. Remember how you said your mother had always wanted to stay there, but hadn’t had the money?”
He shook his head. “Aren’t you sweet? Here, we’ve only been married a few minutes and look, already you’re taking care of me to the extent that you’re worried about my mother.” God rest her soul.
That brought the roses back to Lilly’s cheeks.
Aha! Again, his earlier assumptions had been right. Her wanting them to stay in Vegas was definitely another facet of Mitch’s plan. A form of insurance.
Since Lilly thought he had married her under an assumed name, she still believed she’d won the bet for the enemy camp. The only way she wouldn’t win was if Finn realized that although he had lost the bet on a technicality, he still had time to find another bride. In short, Lilly had been told to keep her eye on him while letting the clock run down.
Fortunately, Finn was still about twelve steps ahead of her. And given that he’d always loved Vegas and a good party, he figured why not combine those two loves to not only celebrate his victory, but call Lilly’s bluff to see just how far she was willing to go for her boss.
“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “How about since my mother isn’t here, we stay at one of the big boys? You know, like Luxor or Bally’s? Even better, The Venetian—I’ve heard it’s very romantic.”
She dropped her gaze. Her bottom lip started to quiver. “Y-you said you preferred intimacy over crowds. I mean, though we discussed taking you know—things—slow, I even booked the Mount Vesuvius Suite.”
Mmm, smooth move. Looked like she was definitely willing to go all the way, but playing coy.
Eyeing her lips, he remembered how soft they were. Soft and warm and moist and—
“Look out!”
Finn slammed on the breaks, narrowly avoiding a nasty run-in with a diesel-belching city bus.
Instinctively he shot his arm out to brace Lilly should they crash, but with the danger long gone, he gave himself a pat on the back. Way to go, man—not for saving the car, but for accidentally landing a direct hit atop her left breast. Beneath his palm, her nipple swelled and hardened, returning him to high school to watch one of those slow-motion science films on budding flowers. Right before his eyes, or rather his touch, this flower was blooming, and the sight of her flustered smile filled him with awe.
Whew, he thought, taking his sweet time removing his hand. Good thing he had a handle on this situation or he might have mistaken all this lust for genuine attraction.
“Do you need me to drive?” she asked.
“Nope. I’ve got everything under control.” Except for that nagging issue of forgetting he was parked in the middle of a bustling six-lane road.
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER in a dark, dank-smelling alcove leading to the bathrooms of Elvis’s Hunk o’ Good Cookin’ Café where they’d stopped for brunch, Finn had a hard time transferring the numbers from his calling card to a pay phone. He wasn’t trembling, was he? The slight shake to his hands must have been from hunger, because he certainly wasn’t that upset about his bothersome fascination with his wife.
Three tries later, the other line rang.
“Yeah?” a groggy Matt finally answered.
“You gotta help me, bud. I’m scared.”
“Finn? That you?”
“Yep, and I’m treadin’ some pretty deep water.”
“What’s up?”
“You know that bet I had with Mitch?”
“Uh-huh…”
“Well, to make a long story short, I found a bride and this morning…I married her in Vegas.”
“You what?” Instantly Matt’s voice went from sleepin’-it-off mode to high-noon alert. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Sorry.”
“Oh, man. What’re you gonna do? Who is she? Where’d you meet?”
Finn gazed at Lilly, at the way sun filtered through the café’s tinted front windows, bathing her in lavender. Lord, she was beautiful. Lord, he wanted to fulfill his husbandly duty. But no matter how much he wanted to take Lilly into his arms, there was that matter of her having been hired by Mitch to consider. Not to mention his vow to never, ever, get mixed up with another conniving woman.
“Finn? You there? Talk to me, man.”
“I’m here. I…oh hell, bottom line, something’s happening to me, Matt. I thought this was a joke. You know, to get back at Mitch, but I don’t know. Once I won the bet, I figured she’d fess up that Mitch hired her, but she hasn’t. And I feel kinda funny when I look at her. And when she talks, I sometimes have a hard time breathing.”
“Okay, first off, I’m sure if you’re in Vegas, it’s the dry air making you breathe funny. And second, if Mitch hired this woman, you can’t be that attracted to her. Either she’s got you under a spell, or this is merely a rebound thing from the wedding. For the sake of this discussion, we’ll call it ‘the Vivian Effect.’”
“Great. We have a name, but what’s the solution?”
“Simple. Go with it. She likes you. You like her. I’m failing to see the problem—unless she interferes with Friday night poker.”
Swell.
Finn said a quick catch ya later to his friend, then hung up, grumbling, “Fat lot of help you were,” as he thumped his forehead against the cool chrome front of the phone.
What was he going to do?
On the one hand, Lilly was not only a hottie, but sweeter than cotton candy. She was exactly the kind of woman he’d always pictured his kids coming home to after school.
Then, as the sun was setting, he’d park his truck in the driveway and his family would all come running out the front door to greet him—a big golden lab named Rover leading the pack—followed, of course, by the three mutts he already had. His four boys would be next to tromp down the front porch stairs. And Lilly would bring up the rear, pausing at the rail, backlit by golden afternoon sun, hugging his infant daughter to her hip.
He’d always planned on having his boys first. That way they could help him keep Charlotte’s boyfriends in line—oh, and Charlotte was going to be his first daughter’s name. In memory of his mom. His first son would be named Edward in honor of his dad. He’d name his second daughter, Katherine—Katie for short—for his sister.
Okay, so that was the one hand. On the other, he was a fool to think, even for a second, his dreams were about to come true.
For the last time, man, Lilly was hired by your worst enemy to mess with your head. Lilly probably isn’t even her real name!
“Dallas?”
Finn looked up to see her.
“I don’t mean to invade your privacy,” she said, “but our brunch is almost ready.” She capped her words with a shy, intoxicatingly pretty grin. “After being up all night, you must be starving, and well—” she ducked her gaze “—you know it’s not healthy to wait too long between meals.”
As if watching himself in a movie, Finn heard the low din of conversation, the chink of silverware against china, the sad strains of a country song playing over hidden speakers. He smelled cigarette smoke and bacon and the sticky sweet scent of maple syrup. And while he was acutely aware of all that, he tried not to be aware of his ridiculous curiosity as to what it might be like to start a family with this woman who might be named Lilly.
Cautiously he slipped his arm about her wisp of a waist, gazing deep into her baby blues. Matt’s words skipped through his brain. She likes you. You like her. What’s the problem?
“Dallas? Are you already feeling weak?” She stood on her tiptoes, skimming cool fingers across Finn’s fevered forehead. “You’re hot.”
For you.
“Maybe we should get you to the motel so you can lie down?”
“You want me to lie down, huh?” Steering her toward their table, he held her deliciously tightly.
“Watch it, mister. You know what I mean. You look sick.”
“Gee, thanks.”
They’d left the dark hall to enter the maze of tables and he took her by the hand to lead her through.
“Congratulations,” called out a portly man seated at the counter as they passed. “Have y’all been married long?”
Lilly beamed. “Almost an hour.”
“Well, that’s just great. Good luck to you both.” To Finn he said, “Take care of this little missy. I can tell just by lookin’ at her she’s a special gal.”
“Um, thanks.” Finn hardly even slowed on his way to their table.
“Dallas?” she complained once they slid into their booth. “Why didn’t you stop and say something to that man? He was being nice.”
He sighed. “Sorry. I guess after our long night I didn’t feel up to small talk.”
“You are sick, aren’t you?”
“No. Really, I feel fine.”
