25. Britta

Chapter twenty-five

Britta

D ex and I both stare at the giant bed piled high with thick bedding and enough decorative pillows to supply my entire hometown. The room is bigger than both our apartments put together, and yet, the bed seems to take up most of it.

"I can take the couch," Dex says, and we both turn toward the plush, velvet seating across the room.

The back is straight, and it has those cylinder pillows that look pretty but aren't cushy. If it were the only piece of furniture in the room, we'd probably think it looked comfortable.

But… there is… The Bed.

"We can flip a coin." My eyes drift back to the bed, which looks very comfortable and definitely roomy enough for a married couple with a strict, no-touching rule.

If the person in that pair who insisted on the rule wasn't already questioning how strictly it needs to be followed. I've got to put a stop to that right now.

Dex drops his bag, then takes mine from my shoulder and carries it to the fancy bench at the end of the bed. He sets it there, slips off his flip-flops and falls backwards. The white duvet catches him with an inviting whoosh that reminds me of when I was a little girl and imagined what it would be like to sleep on a fluffy cloud.

"We'll take turns." Dex stretches his arms and laces his fingers before tucking them behind his head. "I get first go."

"When is it my turn?" I take a few steps closer to the bed, even though it's clearly not my turn.

Dex sits up enough to see me. I can't actually see his abs through his T-shirt, and that doesn't stop me from picturing what they look like, all activated in the crunch position he's holding.

"Whenever you want, Britta." His tone is neutral, but his eyes dance the same way he did across the waves.

I'm so tempted to lie down next to him, engulfed in the down bedding, pillows, and his arms. I'm exhausted. I can't remember anymore when I wasn't. I bet I could rest pretty well with Dex holding me.

Which is why I back away from the bed. "I'll take my turn tonight."

Dex nods and lies back down, closing his eyes. I study his profile but stay where I am.

If this arrangement is going to work, I can't give into any physical or emotional attraction. Of course, I'm longing for both, but love is not part of my plan for the next few years. I'm not ready yet. I have too many things I want to do first.

Dex and I have to stay in this room together. There's no way around it. If it were just the staff I was worried would ask questions about why Dex and I didn't sleep together—in the strictest sense of the word—I wouldn't care. I imagine that people in hotels like this are trained to keep their mouths shut.

My family, on the other hand, is not.

They would have all kinds of questions about why I was sharing a room with Stella instead of the man I'm marrying in a few hours. I'd get a long lecture from my brothers, Dad, aunt, and cousin about how marriage isn't a short-term business arrangement, it's a lifetime commitment built on love.

I don't disagree. That's been their experience, and it's worked out great. But that doesn't mean my experience should be the same.

Noise from the hallway draws my attention away from Dex. I have an idea of what—or who—it is even before the knock at the door.

Dex turns his head and looks at me.

"My family," I say to answer the question on his face.

He scrambles off the bed and drags a hand through his hair while I answer the door. I barely have it open before they swarm in—all thirteen of them. I expected seven with my brothers, their partners, and Dad. But Stella's mom, her brother Sebastian, sister-in-law, and niece are also in tow. The last two in, though, are the most unexpected.

Grandma and Grandpa Sparks, my mom's parents.

Dex shakes my dad's hand, looking more intimidated than he did when he paddled out for the World Title.

I don't blame him; I guess. Dad is a big guy, but his perpetual smile makes him look more like a big teddy bear than a grizzly. He's not smiling now, though. And neither is my brother Bear, who looks even scarier than Dad.

Fortunately, Georgia's smile makes up for everyone else's death stares.

"Dex!" She throws her arms around him, then waves me over so she can pull me in, too. She's half a foot shorter than I am, so Dex and I are both forced to curl into her neck.

"I predicted you'd fall for each other the minute I saw you together this summer!" Georgia exclaims. "I never dreamed you'd get married so fast, but when you know, you know."

Dex and I give each other a look across her shoulders that I hope no one else catches. Apparently, Georgia knows more about us than we do.

"Better than living together," Grandpa says in his gruff voice.

That's as close to approval as we'll get from him, and I'll take it. Grandpa's old school. If Dex and I were really in love, Grandpa would be more upset if we moved in together than he is about us getting married, even if we barely know each other.

So, I'll just keep letting him think that's what's happening here. The guilt I feel will get easier after a while—probably.

"These are some digs, Britt." My brother Zach scans the entire room, letting his eyes linger on the rumpled bed.

"What's the plan for this… event?" Dad's question hovers uncomfortably in the air, and he won't make eye contact with Dex or me.

I look at Dex. He and Archie said they'd take care of everything, so I don't have an answer for Dad, even though now he's looking at me, expecting one.

"Archie has it all planned, but we wanted it to be a surprise for Britta." Dex takes a couple of tentative steps toward Dad, who does his best not to encourage him.

Dex bites his lip and shoots me a glance, then pulls his shoulders back and puts on a confident smile. He moves close enough to Dad to swing an arm over his shoulder. "Before we do anything, we should talk. This is all fast—you have to be worried—and I want to marry your daughter, but not without your permission, sir."

"What?" I blurt out, but at the relieved look on Dad's face, I bite back my comment about being a grown woman, not a piece of property Dex is looking to take off my dad's hands.

"That's unnecessary, son." Dad pats Dex's lower back. "It's Britta's choice. I trust her."

"Thanks, Dad." I push back the lump in my throat, but there's no stopping the swelling guilt in my gut.

There's another knock at the door, and Adam, who's standing closest, opens it to let in Archie and Rhys.

"Good. Everyone's here," Archie says. "We've got tickets for the venue in two hours, so be ready to go in ninety minutes." He taps his watch and sets a timer.

"Tickets?" I ask. Who needs tickets for a wedding venue?

"You're Rhys James," my sister-in-law, Evie, says in a breathless voice, which elicits a growl from Adam.

Rhys dips his chin in a reluctant nod.

Evie turns to me, still awestruck. "You didn't tell me Rhys James was going to be here."

"I had to keep that part a secret. Sorry." I don't meet her gaze in case she can see Rhys isn't the only secret I have to keep .

"He's performing the ceremony," Archie says matter-of-factly before checking his watch. "Which is in approximately one hundred and eighteen minutes, so we should let the bride get ready."

"Yep." Georgia pushes everyone toward the door, including the three women who can't stop staring at Rhys. "Let's go. We've only got eighty-seven minutes until it's time to leave. Everyone be in the lobby at six-thirty… make that six-twenty-five."

"I'm a good flower girl," Stella's four-year-old niece, Charlie, says to me.

I squat down to get eye-to-eye with her. "I know you are! I hope you'll be mine."

Charlie throws her pudgy arms around my neck. "Mama bringed my dress."

I hug her back, and a tiny part of me wishes this were real, like Adam and Zach's double wedding where Charlie was the flower girl for the first time.

Hope leads Charlie out the door, and in a matter of seconds, I'm alone again with Dex. My fake fiancé. My soon-to-be—in less than two hours—fake husband.

Our eyes meet, and he looks as nervous as I feel.

"If you want to call this off, you can." He's five feet away, close to the door, looking ready to run.

"Is that what you want to do?" I hold my breath, waiting for his answer, not sure if I want it to be yes or no.

"No. But I will. I feel awful they think this is… real."

"Me too," I say, then let a few seconds of silence settle between us. "But it's okay. I'm a big girl and I'm making my decision with eyes wide open. It would only hurt them to know the truth, and this marriage is making me happy—just differently than they think.

He nods, then runs his fingers over the patch of stubble on his jawline before shaking his head. "I should shave."

A grin escapes before I can stop it. "Me too."

We both laugh, but the awkwardness between us has leveled down to an excited nervousness.

"We can make this work… right?" I'm not sure how that turned into a question instead of a statement.

Dex lifts his shoulders. "We've got no reason not to. It's the best thing for both of us." Then he points to the bathroom. "You can have it first."

Eighty minutes later, Dex and I are in the foyer waiting for my family. I've got on my green dress, my hair pulled into a loose, but fancy, updo and gold earrings dangling from my ears. This is the most dressed up I've been since my brothers got married. I'm pretty sure the same is true for Dex.

He's got on a button-up shirt, khakis, and real shoes—not flip-flops. They're black Vans, but still, shoes. He tugs at his collar every few seconds, and I don't know if it's because he's nervous or if it's because he hates collared shirts.

"Is this a hand-holding situation?" he whispers as the elevator door opens and Dad steps out.

I nod and slide my fingers through his. "Yes, please."

Dad's by himself, and his eyes are rimmed with red as he approaches us, and I brace myself for waterworks. He pulls something from his pants pocket, then stops in front of me.

"I forgot to give you this earlier." He holds up a gold ring with a tiny diamond. "It's your mom's and you don't have to use it as your own. But if you want it, I think she'd like you to have it."

All I can do is nod because the waterworks are coming from me, not Dad. The Bellagio fountains spring from my eyes, accompanied by an instrumental version of a familiar song I can't place, playing softly from speakers somewhere in the foyer.

Home. That's the name of the song by the guy with the same name twice—Phillip Phillips. The lines about taking on an unfamiliar road together fill my head, which only makes me cry more.

"Thanks, Dad." I take the ring from him, feeling its weight in my fingers before handing it to Dex. "One ring problem solved, but I still don't have a ring for you."

"We'll figure it out. Your ring is more important. Thank you, Mr. Thomsen." His eyes are a little red too, which pulls more tears from me.

The rest of my family arrives, and Archie herds us all to the waiting Escalades outside.

Before I can ask Archie where we're going, I'm crowded into one vehicle with my dad and brothers. I'm just as surprised as everyone else when the SUV stops to let us out on a wide walkway between two hotels. The cement path is lined on both sides with restaurants and other businesses catering to tourists. At the end of the walkway, there's a giant Ferris wheel with enclosed carriages.

As we wind our way through crowds of people, I don't see anything that looks like a wedding venue, and there are fewer businesses the closer we get to the Ferris Wheel thing with the blinking neon High Roller sign.

"Archie?" I pick up my dress and quick step up to him. "Is that where we're getting married?" I point to the slow-spinning wheel of death, my heart pounding.

Archie nods, pleased with himself. "Yeah. At sunset. It will be beautiful."

Against my better judgement, I let my eyes travel to the top of the Ferris wheel. The carriages sway back and forth, and I feel the blood drain from my face.

"What's wrong?" Dex's fingers brush the bare skin of my back.

I lean over with my hands on my knees. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"You've changed your mind?" Dex's question is laced with disappointment, but all I can do is shake my head.

"Britta doesn't like heights," Stella answers for me. "She's never flown before or been on a regular-sized Ferris Wheel, let alone one that's five hundred and fifty feet tall, so it's kind of big day for her."

I groan. Wherever she found those numbers, the information is not helpful.

"I'm sorry, Britta. I didn't think to ask." Archie's apology is sincere. He sounds as wrecked as I feel. "We can go back to the Mansion and have the ceremony there."

I take a deep breath and stand taller. I don't like heights, and, yeah, I'm a little afraid of them. But if I'm not afraid to marry a world-famous surfer who I've only known a few weeks in order to buy a coffee shop in a city ten thousand times bigger than the one where I've spent most of my life, then I can push past being afraid to say my I do's at the top of a giant Ferris wheel with a view of the sunset in Las Vegas.

"You okay?" Dex asks.

"I think so."

He moves in front of me. With the heels I'm wearing, we're nearly eye-to-eye. "Remember what you told me before my first heat at the Finals?"

I shake my head. The only thing I can think about right now is getting myself on that Ferris wheel without passing out.

"You told me to make it a dance. That's what kept me from panicking while I was waiting for the right wave." Dex's words are slow, calm, and confident. "That's why I won that heat. Your words."

My breathing slows. The pounding in my ears quiets.

"If you don't want to get married here, we won't," he continues. "But if you're okay with it, I'll hold your hand the whole time. I won't let anything happen to you. If you'll trust me right now—the way I trusted you on that wave—I'll keep you safe."

Dex's words flow over me, a soft breeze in the blazing heat, and my body cools.

"Let's get married," I say and put my shaking hand in his.