Page 126 of Desert Rain
But she wasn’t shaking as hard.
So I let her rant.
I let her tell Edge through the radio that she hoped he lost all his money betting against her. I let her tell River he had “divorced uncle energy.” I let her inform Tank that if anyone yelled “consummate” near her, she would personally turn the wedding into a crime scene.
The brothers ate it up.
I just drove with my hand over hers and tried not to think about the fact that in a few hours, she’d have my name.
Not because she loved me.
Not because she wanted me.
Because the world was ugly and I was the only shield close enough to throw over her.
Vegas rose out of the dark like a fever dream.
Neon bled across the windshield. Gold towers. Pink signs. Flashing screens. Fountains. Music. People on sidewalks laughing like nobody had ever died in the desert outside city limits. Sienna went quiet again, but this time it felt different. Not empty. More like disbelief.
She stared out at the Strip. “This can’t be real.”
“It’s Vegas. Half of it isn’t.”
“I’m getting married in a city with a giant glowing cowboy.”
“You wanted classy?”
“I wanted to not witness a murder.”
“Fair.”
She looked at me then, and the lights painted her face in red and gold. There was dirt still in her hair. A bandage on her arm. My jacket swallowing her shoulders. She looked exhausted andfierce and too damn beautiful for the passenger seat of my old truck.
My throat tightened.
I almost told her she didn’t have to do this.
The words clawed up my chest, stupid and noble and useless.
Because she did have to.
And if I gave her an out, she might take it.
Then I’d spend the rest of my life wondering if I’d signed her death warrant by trying to be decent.
So I swallowed it down and pulled into the chapel lot behind Edge’s truck.
The place was ridiculous.
Pink neon heart. Fake roses. Plastic columns. A sign flashing WEDDINGS 24 HOURS. Under that, in smaller letters, ELVIS, WESTERN, GOTH, BIKER PACKAGE AVAILABLE.
Sienna read it and closed her eyes. “Biker package. Of course.”
Edge climbed out already grinning. “Think they give club discounts?”
Regan’s black SUV whipped into the lot before I could answer.
Thank Christ.
