Blind Luck Bride

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“Then why do you seem different?”

“You’re overreacting, Mrs. Lebeaux. I’m just tired.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Okay, then tell me who you called and what they said that’s made you so glum.”

Finn took a deep breath. There you go, man. You’ll never get a better chance to bring up the bet. Ask her what she’s doing hooked up with a slimeball like Mitch—not to mention what it’d take to buy out her contract.

Unfortunately, just as Finn was about to pose his question, a waitress wearing a wig that looked more like tinsel than hair stopped in front of their table. “Who ordered the Graceland Special?”

“Me,” Finn said.

“Okeydoke.” She slid a double cheeseburger and crinkle fries in front of him. “This must be yours,” she said, setting another burger and fries in front of Lilly before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. “Strange but true observation—the only other couple I know who order burgers for breakfast has been married over sixty years. You two have that same look about you—the one that says you just might go the distance.”

“Thank you,” Finn’s bride gushed, pressing her hands to glowing cheeks. “Including the minister who married us, you’re the third person this morning to wish us luck, and you know what they say about the third time being a charm.”

“Oh, so then this is your third marriage?” There was barely a rise in the waitress’s purple eyebrows.

“Um, no,” Lilly said with a cute frown.

Finn hid his grin behind his burger.

“I, um, meant you were the third person to wish us luck on this marriage.”

“Oh, sure.” The waitress sagely nodded. “That’s great. Oh—and hey,” She reached into the pocket of her short black skirt to draw out two slips of red paper. “Before I forget—The King, also known as my boss, Kenny, gives these to all our newlyweds.”

“What are they?” Lilly asked, accepting their gift.

“Complimentary tickets to the matinee performance of Elvis’s Bird and Dog Show. You’ll love it.”

“Yo, Moonbeam!” a burly bald man called from across the room. “My hair’s not grownin’ any thicker waitin’ on you!”

“Keep your pants on, Burt. I’m comin’.” To Lilly and Finn, Moonbeam said, “Enjoy the show,” before heading Burt’s way.

“Wasn’t she sweet?” Lilly said. “And what fun we’ll have with these tickets. A bird and dog show. How exciting. I wonder if the animals perform together?”

Finn suppressed what had to be his hundredth groan of the morning. “As newlyweds, don’t we have something else we’re supposed to be doing?”

“Don’t tell me you mean…you know…” Her cheeks turned a dozen shades of pink.

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. So? Doesn’t that sound like more fun?”

“Dallas,” she scolded. Lowering her voice, she said, “You know my feelings on that subject. I think it’d be best if we got to know each other first.” She looked at the tickets, then her watch. “The show starts at noon. It’s ten past eleven, which means if we’re going to check into the motel first—just to guarantee our room and change our clothes—then we’d better hurry up and eat.”

Ooh, you’re smooth. What an amazing stroke of luck the way Lilly had managed to wriggle her ripe little tush out of sealing their vows just yet.

“This tastes delicious,” she said, swallowing a bite of her burger. “I can’t stand eggs, so when I was a kid, I told Mom that as soon as I grew up, I was only eating hamburgers for breakfast.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No. Why would I make something like that up?”

“I wasn’t implying you would, it’s just that I feel the same way about eggs—or any breakfast food for that matter. I always figured why not skip breakfast and go straight to lunch.” What Finn didn’t reveal was that the reason he’d adopted the habit of skipping breakfast was to make the days after losing his parents and sister pass faster. If he jumped right out of bed and went straight to lunch, in a kid’s mind, that translated to a lot fewer hours in the day.

His wife sat her Love Me Tender special down and flashed him one of her wavering grins that typically preceded tears. “Do you know what our both liking burgers for breakfast means?” Her big blue eyes turned shimmery.

I know what it usually means when you start up your sprinklers. You get whatever you want. But not this time. I’m onto you. I’m—

“It means that we really do have a shot at our marriage lasting forever. Everyone knows the more things a couple has in common, the more likely they are to stay together. My oldest brother, David, is a marriage counselor, so believe me, I’ve heard this from a reliable source. Uh…” She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so hormonal since—well, you know. Anyway—” she reached across the table for his hands “—all I wanted to say is that Dallas Lebeaux, you are my knight in shining armor for rescuing me not only from the Wayne Newton Chapel, but—no, I’m not going to get emotional again. I just want you to know that if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll never make you sorry for marrying me.”

“AND NOW, ladies and gentleman…”

Lilly grinned to see Dallas squirm at Elvis’s mention of him being the only other man in the room. And what a room it was. The so-called theater had been set up in an old grocery store. The checkouts were piled high with souvenir T-shirts, mugs and key chains and the raised center deli section was now a stage. The overhead lights had been turned out and the entire perimeter of the massive space glowed with neon outlines of dancing pork chops and milk jugs. The place smelled like a cross between salami and glazed donuts, both of which made Lilly’s stomach growl.

“For my next amazing feat,” Elvis said, “I’ll need a lovely assistant. Do I have anyone out there who’d like to help Sparky the Wonder Dog?”

“Me! Me!” A half dozen pint-size girls squirmed in their seats, itching for the chance to clamber up on stage.

“Hmm, such a tough choice,” Elvis said, “You’re all so lovely, but I pick…you.” He pointed to the only one of the girls not squirming, a pigtailed angel seated in a wheelchair. “Sir,” Elvis said, pointing to Dallas. “Could you please help the little lady onto the stage? Her mama looks like she’s got her hands full.”

Lilly followed the magician’s gaze to where the girl’s mother cradled a tiny bundle of blue. What a cute baby! But then Lilly caught sight of her groom staring at the infant and found a whole new meaning for cute. Beaming at the tiny face, Dallas’s expression had turned to pure mush.

Wow…her heart felt ready to burst.

She’d been terrified that, because he hadn’t asked the smallest question about her baby, Dallas had changed his mind about wanting to become a father, but seeing him now, gazing upon a stranger’s infant, then taking extraordinary care wheeling the girl toward the stage, Lilly again had her decision to marry him confirmed.

“There you go, sir,” Elvis said. “Wheel that darling right on up the ramp, then you can take your seat.”

For Lilly, with Dallas back beside her, the rest of the show passed in a blur of jumping toy poodles, squawking parrots and barely contained tears. Never could she remember having been so happy. With the help of the Internet, she’d found a wonderful father for her child.

Yes, but what about a wonderful husband for you?

She swallowed hard and cast a glance Dallas’s way.

No. No matter how many times as a young woman she’d dreamed of Prince Charming sweeping her off her feet, she had to keep in mind that, now, it would simply never happen. The current platonic arrangement she shared with Dallas was beneficial for them both. If she were to open herself up to the kind of pipe dreams that had led to her involvement with Elliot, she’d only be inviting more trouble into her life.

All that said, Dallas seemed to be getting a genuine kick out of not so much watching the show, but watching how much the children around him enjoyed the show. Meeting this one-in-a-million man had been a miracle, and while she knew their feelings would never move beyond friendship, at the moment she very much felt that she had already made a lifelong friend. And somehow, she thought, swallowing past the lump in her throat, that would be enough.

She and Dallas laughed at the same corny jokes, she adored his taste in flowers and rings, they’d even eaten the same unconventional breakfast. By the time Sparky the Wonder Dog was readying for his brave fire leap and her husband had taken her hand in his, Lilly no longer felt sorry for herself, but more like the luckiest woman alive.

All too soon the show was over and they were the last to leave the small theater. While Dallas made a quick run to the rest room, she waited for him in the foyer, counting the seconds to his return.

When he strolled out of the makeshift lobby wearing a cheesy grin, she said, “What are you up to? You look like you’ve been doing a lot more than going to the bathroom.”

He shrugged and slipped his hands into his pockets, where she could have sworn she detected the sound of crinkling plastic.

“Dallas Lebeaux, what are you hiding?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Can’t a guy keep a secret from his wife?”

“Did you buy me a present?”

Again, all she got from him was a maddening shrug, then, “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

“Hmm, sounds intriguing.” She didn’t press him further, for if there was anything she liked more than her new husband, it was surprises!

“Whoa, it’s bright out here,” Finn said, holding the door open for his adorable wife as they moved from the dark ex-grocery store to blinding midday sun.

“It sure is.” On the way to the car, she brought her hand to her forehead to shade her eyes. Sunbeams shot through the paste diamond in her gumball-machine ring, reminding him for a second of the antique ruby and diamond he’d almost slipped on Vivian’s hand. The ring had been his grandmother’s, then his mother’s. Giving that ring to Vivian would have been the worst mistake of his life.

But then if marrying his real fiancée would have been just a mistake, what did marrying a hired fiancée amount to? Full-out catastrophe?

He eyed the scooped neck of the pink T-shirt Lilly had changed into. No catastrophe there. The full upper curve of her breasts peeked at him, practically sending him an engraved invitation to feel how soft they were and pliable and—

“Wasn’t that girl you helped onstage adorable?”

“What? Huh?” Finn, reaching to unlock, then open Lilly’s car door, was still focused on the adult entertainment.

“Don’t tell me you already forgot her corkscrew pigtails?” she said, climbing inside the car.

Hell no, he hadn’t forgotten the girl or her baby brother. It was just that the topic of kids was too painful to bring into this lark he and Lilly called a marriage.

“You’re going to make a great father,” she said after he slid behind the wheel. “My brother says you can tell a good parent by their patience, and what with all my blubbering last night and the church thing this morning—” she transfixed him with her near-flood-stage baby blues “—what can I say? You’re a patient guy. A guy I know is going to make a great dad.”

Talk about hitting below the belt. How had Mitch known Finn yearned to be a father? The power Lilly wielded with her body already had Finn losing control. If she started talking babies, too, he’d be a goner.

Figuring the best way to avoid the issue was to ignore it, he started the car.

“Where to?” he said.

“Want to go back to the motel and talk?”

“Nah,” he said, backing out of their parking space. “It’s too early for talking. How about playing a few slots?”

Chapter Four

“Come on, baby…Mommy needs a new pair of shoes.” Lilly pulled the one-armed bandit’s lever, then watched in disgust as once again, her nickel investment paid a dividend of exactly squat.

“You’re not doing so hot,” Mr. I-Can’t-Lose said smugly from his stool beside her. His coin tray was heaped with nickels to the point that he’d had to get one of the jumbo-sized SlotWorld coin cups to hold his overflow. And wouldn’t you know it? Just as she looked his way, his machine hit triple blue sevens again.

“Awesome!” he shouted. “That’s twenty more bucks! I’m rich!”

Great. You’re rich and the chink, chink, chink of nickels spewing out of your machine is giving me a headache. As were the dinging bells of other winning machines—not to mention the cigar cloud haze from the old guy on the next row.

Sighing, Lilly reached into her wallet for another five-dollar bill to slip into the change portion of the machine.

“You know, beautiful,” Dallas said with an annoyingly warm smile, “you’re welcome to grab a handful of my nickels.”

“Thanks, but I’ve never been too keen on accepting charity.”

“We’re married. What’s mine is yours.” Before she could stop him, he dumped his coin cup into the base of her machine.

“Hey, what’d you do that for?” He was still leaning into her personal space and suddenly she was far more disturbed by his oh-so-male scent than his nickels.

“I did that,” he said, leaving his stool to straddle her knees, “because you need to loosen up. This is our honeymoon for heaven’s sake and here you are worrying more about beating a stupid slot machine than getting to know your husband.”

Lilly gulped. She’d only imagined the heat of his breath on her chest, right? “Um, Dallas…” she managed to say though her lungs felt strangely weak. “I, ah, think you should get back to your own stool. Someone might take your machine.”

He flashed her a wicked grin before glancing down one way, then the other of their dead-end aisle. “Looks to me like we’ve got the whole place to ourselves. Hmm, whatever shall we do with all this privacy?” He slipped his hands to her waist, shocking her with a sudden turn of the tables that put him back on his own stool, landing with her on his lap.

She took a long time drawing her next breath, praying the additional air might still her frenzied pulse. Rats. No such luck. “Dallas, please…”

“Please what?” he said, his breath hot against her neck, her right ear. “Please, kiss you? Please slide my hands up your shirt? Please take you back to our poor, lonely suite?”

Without waiting for her reply, he did slip his hands under her shirt, and such was her shock—not to mention secret, aching delight—she froze, allowing him to skim his open palms up her torso until finally reaching her silk-covered breasts. The heat of his palms caused her nipples to traitorously swell, and she deeply, honestly searched for a reason to push him away. But in the end, the only dizzying thought that sprang to mind was that Dallas was now her husband. She was his wife. And if they stayed their current course, no matter how impossible it seemed, every dream she’d ever had would be well on its way to coming true.

Skimming her hands to his back, she arched into him, licking her lips before darting her gaze to make one last check they were alone. However wary she might have been about ever again opening her heart, the attraction drawing her ever-closer to her husband was a powerful thing. Two seconds later, when Dallas still hadn’t crushed his lips to hers, she decided to live life on the edge by cupping the back of his head and drawing him to her, finishing the job herself.

Dear Lord, Finn thought on the heels of a groan. Had he ever partaken of a woman so sweet? Lilly’s kisses tasted like ice cream and cotton candy. Bubble gum and red hots. She was the most honeyed, most indescribably delicious thing he’d ever tasted and he couldn’t wait for more. Damn Mitch. Finn had won his part of the bet fair and square. Whatever happened between Lilly and him from this point on was gravy—or maybe that should have been chocolate sauce!

“Oh, Dallas,” she softly crooned. “You have such a way with kisses.”

Screech. There went those damned mental brakes.

Like fingernails on a chalkboard, Lilly’s calling him Dallas grated his nerves. That’s it. Once and for all, they had to establish the perimeters of their relationship—not that they even had a relationship—but before he made love to her, which he fully planned to do by the end of the day, Finn wanted to hear his name spilled from those full, pouty lips.