Page 131 of Desert Rain
I could work with half an inch.
The Elvis officiant cleared his throat beneath the arch, smiling like he hadn’t watched three armed bikers argue over witness signatures ten minutes ago. “Alright, lovebirds, are we ready?”
“No,” Sienna said immediately.
“Yes,” Regan said from the front row.
“Legally, probably,” River added.
Edge leaned back in his chair. “Emotionally? Not even close.”
Tank grunted. “That’s most marriages.”
The chapel broke into rough laughter, and Sienna’s mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close enough that my chest loosened.
I leaned closer. “Prettiest bride Vegas has ever seen.”
Her twitch vanished. “Don’t start.”
“Beautiful bride,” I murmured. “Brave bride. Mean little desert-survival bride.”
Her elbow drove into my ribs.
The men lost it.
Edge slapped his knee. “There she is!”
River pointed at me. “That’s why I gave him forty-eight hours. She’s violent. He likes that.”
Sienna whipped around. “I heard that.”
“You were meant to,” River said.
“This is a marriage in name only,” she announced to the room, pale cheeks flushing pink. “Nobody is getting into anybody’s bed.”
A wave of hoots and whistles hit the ceiling.
Tank lifted a hand. “For the record, I’m betting on the bride.”
“Thank you,” Sienna said sharply.
“For ten days.”
Her jaw dropped. “Traitor.”
Edge grinned. “I’ve got a week.”
River scoffed. “Forty-eight hours.”
Regan rolled her eyes. “Men are so unimaginative. I give her a month out of pure spite.”
Sienna pointed at Regan. “Finally, someone with sense.”
I couldn’t stop looking at her.
Her color was coming back. Her chin was up. Her eyes were still too bright, still carrying the night behind them, but she was in there again. Mouthy. Furious. Fighting.
That was better than shaking silence.
