Marry Me, Major. Merline Lovelace
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of doing the deed,” Chelsea said, “I hate to hurry you, but I have to get back to the Flamingo.”
“No problem,” Ben replied easily. “We’re ready, aren’t we, Alex?”
As ready as she’d ever be. Still, her throat went dry when the minister launched into the time-honored, “We’re gathered together to witness the joining of this man and this woman...”
She had another uncomfortable moment when the minister asked for the rings. They hadn’t had time to pick them out but, thankfully, Ben had ordered plain gold bands as part of the wedding “package.”
“You’ll have to have it sized,” he murmured as he slipped it over her knuckle.
Mere seconds later the by-the-hour minister pronounced them husband and wife. Beaming, he gave the new groom the go-ahead. “You may kiss your bride.”
Prepared for this part of the ritual, Alex tipped her face for Ben’s kiss. He was good at this, she remembered from their weekend together. What she hadn’t remembered was how good.
His mouth brushed hers lightly. Then again. Slowly. Deliberately. She breathed in the warm scent of skin. Felt a sandpapery prickle where his chin scraped hers. Then he curled his arm around her waist, drew her in close and really got into it. When he raised his head and smiled down at her, her heart was jackhammering inside her chest.
“Hello, wife.”
She gulped. “Hello, husband.”
He looked like he was about to say something else but the event planner intervened with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Major, but we’ve got another wedding scheduled on the terrace in fifteen minutes. Shall we move to the railing and take some pictures?”
Chelsea threw off her wrap and struck her best showgirl pose. Pink went to parade rest beside Ben. And, as if on cue, the fountains spurted and began dancing to Elvis Presley’s rousing rendition of “Viva Las Vegas.” Alex had to grin at the tableau they presented as the photographer did his thing.
The wedding planner was good. And quick! She accessed a nearby printer and slid copies of the best photo into silver-tinted souvenir frames, then gave one to Alex, Chelsea and Pink while the photographer texted the original JPEGs to their phones.
“You sure you guys can’t stay over for a few days?” Chelsea asked Alex as she covered her showgirl splendor with her wrap again. “I could get you an employee discount on the bridal suite at the Flamingo.”
Alex was tempted. So tempted. Her mouth still tingled from Ben’s kiss and memories of their nights together were crowding front and center in her mind.
“We’d love to but...”
“Yeah, you told me. Hubby’s unit is deploying early tomorrow morning. Not much of a honeymoon, kid. Guess you’ll have to make up for lost time when he gets home.”
“Not likely,” Alex murmured, “seeing as we’ll probably be divorced by then.”
“Ya never know,” the showgirl murmured with a sideways glance at Ben. “Ya just never know.”
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