Chapter 9

Macie stood at the window of her suite in the Bellagio, looking out at the bright lights of Vegas, and shook her head in wonder. One minute she was standing in the kitchen of Hank's ranch, looking down as the most amazing man on the planet proposed to her. The next she was surrounded by her family and friends at Sparks Barbeque, all of them hugging her, gushing over the ring, and then toasting them with bottle after bottle of wine…and beer…and then tequila.

Her head actually still hurt a little from that celebration, and it happened nearly a week ago.

Now she was standing in the fanciest hotel room she'd ever been in—the Bellagio was a far cry from the Super 8 she'd stayed in when she went to New Orleans with Amanda and Brandi a few years ago.

When Macie had described Las Vegas as her dream wedding location, she'd obviously envisioned something a lot tackier, cheesier and sillier than Hank had. The day after she'd accepted his proposal, she'd stayed in bed nursing the mother of all hangovers while Hank hit the Internet and started making arrangements. By the time she'd pulled herself out of bed late that afternoon, he'd booked their flights and this suite and made arrangements for an intimate ceremony in the hotel's gorgeous courtyard. Hank had even filled out the pre-application for their wedding license online.

Her mom and dad, Amanda, Brandi, Porter and Adele had all made the trip with them, insisting on being their witnesses. Porter was going to be the best man, Adele the maid of honor. And even though Porter and Adele had been carrying on with that bickering, somewhat-playful banter that screamed "Just fuck me already!" since getting on the plane in Texas, the trip had been a lot of fun.

Macie had tried to tell Hank she didn't need anything so fancy, that a quickie ceremony at one of the Elvis chapels or even a drive-thru wedding would suit her just fine, but he'd put his foot down. Told her she deserved to be surrounded by beauty at her wedding, which had been a challenge, since she'd stuck him with Vegas as the locale. He insisted he was going to spoil her with nothing but the best.

And apparently he'd meant it, considering there had been a limousine waiting to pick up the eight of them at the airport. The chauffeur had given them a scenic tour, driving them down the Strip and pointing out all the famous landmarks before dropping them off here.

No one had ever looked at her and thought "princess" before Hank. And given her less than girlie-girl ways, she couldn't really blame anyone. Now that she was here, she wanted to be treated like royalty all the damn time. Hell, she might look for a tiara to wear during the wedding ceremony. A woman could get used to this.

"Happy?" Hank asked, as he stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. In one hand, he had a single rose.

She took it, wondering where on earth he'd gotten it. The man was a master of surprises. "That word doesn't even touch what I'm feeling right now."

She saw his smile through their reflections in the window.

"Good."

She twisted to face him. "Hank, you really didn't?—"

"Don't, Macie. Don't tell me one more time about what I did or didn't have to do. I know what you meant when you said you wanted a Vegas wedding. And as much as I want to give you what you want, I just think you deserve more."

"All of this is exactly what I would have wanted if I'd known to ask for it. I'm overwhelmed. And touched. And so fucking in love with you right now it almost hurts."

He swallowed heavily and though he didn't say anything, she could see the same emotions in his eyes. "I love you too."

He bent his head and kissed her. It was a soft melding of lips. Their tongues touched. Macie wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands moved along her back, pulling her closer as he caressed her. They kissed without heed of time. Macie had noticed that since she'd accepted his proposal, Hank no longer kissed her like his life depended on it. Now that they'd promised each other forever, they could relax, enjoy, develop their skills without fear of blinking to find the other gone.

It wasn't that the passion had faded. It had just blended with commitment to form something even better, something Macie hadn't ever experienced.

Hank was the first to pull away. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand and grimaced. "Much as I'd like to move this to the bed, I told the others we'd meet them down in the bar in twenty minutes. I think they wanted to walk around the Strip, watch that dancing fountain outside and maybe find somewhere for a late dinner. You up for that?"

Macie hesitated. She was definitely anxious to see more of the city, but they had all day tomorrow for sightseeing, as well as a trip to the clerk's office. The wedding ceremony was scheduled for the day after tomorrow.

Hank noticed her delay in responding. "Macie?"

"Or," she suggested, "we could tell them to take off without us, order room service and eat really decadent food off each other's naked bodies. There's a whirlpool tub in the bathroom."

Hank's cell phone was in his hand before she'd even gotten to the tub information. "I'll call Porter. We can meet them for breakfast instead."

She laughed and reached for the room service menu as Hank explained to Porter that they were too tired from traveling to do much more tonight. Macie didn't doubt for a minute that Porter wasn't fooled by that line, but it was clear he didn't offer up much of a fuss.

"Okay?" she asked when Hank hung up.

"Yeah. Pretty sure he and your dad are going to give us shit for it tomorrow though. Porter was already making jokes about starting the honeymoon too early. In truth, I think he only would have been upset if Adele had bailed on dinner."

Macie agreed with that assessment. "Remind me to pull Adele aside tomorrow to ask her what the hell's going on with her and Porter."

"I will. And while you do that, I'll give Porter the third degree too. Maybe between the two of us, we'll manage to piece it out."

Macie handed Hank the menu and he called down to place their order. She was touched when he added a bottle of champagne to the list.

"You're a master at this romance stuff."

He shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I'm not doing anything that doesn't fall on the list, am I? Champagne, roses, limo, fancy hotel room. Pretty standard fare. In fact…" He slipped his phone onto the iHome and searched through his music. "I think soft music and dancing might be the only things we're missing. Want to practice our first dance?"

She nodded and stepped into his arms as Frank Sinatra filled the room. Macie laughed as he spun her around to "The Way You Look Tonight." It was the perfect song for the time and the place, with the big band sound, the old-timey feel, the lights of Vegas gleaming brightly beneath them.

Maybe it was textbook romance, but Macie didn't care. It was her first time taking the class and she loved every second of it.

The first song was followed by "Fly Me to the Moon," so they just kept dancing and spinning and laughing. They probably would have kept going all night if not for the knock on the door and the arrival of dinner. Hank tipped the waiter after he set the tray on the table.

During the meal, they discussed the ceremony. They'd decided to exchange their own vows, so now, in addition to struggling to write Brandi and Amanda's ceremony, she was stressing out over finding her own words. "Why did I agree to this?"

"Isn't it usually the man who bitches about writing vows?" Hank teased. "Honestly, Whiskey. They don't have to be long."

"I guess you've already written yours."

He gave her a shit-eating grin. "Had them ready since the day after you said yes to my proposal."

"I hate you."

Hank covered up their empty dishes and picked up the New York cheesecake, nodding toward the bed. "Come on. You promised me food and naked body parts. We might be in Vegas, but I like the idea of licking New York off you."

* * *

Two days later,Hank stood next to Porter in the courtyard of the Bellagio in their Sunday best, surrounded by ornate beauty, flowers, music, soft sunshine and a warm afternoon breeze. None of it held a candle to Macie, as she walked toward him.

Two days after his proposal, Amanda and Brandi had shown up at the ranch and whisked Macie away for a full day of shopping in Douglas, the three of them determined to find the perfect wedding dress.

Macie had gone to great lengths to hide it from him since. She said she'd actually found it in a vintage shop, opting for something more old-fashioned. The full skirt came to just below her knee, and it had a high neck with tiny pearl beading around the neck and around the waist. It was cream, rather than white, which looked perfect against her pretty brown hair.

Amanda, Adele, and Macie's mom, Louise had arrived at their hotel room at the crack of dawn this morning, shooing him out and taking charge of Macie. He couldn't fault their efforts. Not one damn bit. Her long, wavy hair was pinned up in back with lots of curly wisps hanging around her face.

Macie wasn't usually one for much makeup, but she'd done something to accentuate her whiskey-colored eyes, making them look larger, deeper. Jesus. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life.

And she was going to be his wife.

When Macie reached him, she gave him an almost shy smile that betrayed her nervousness. While Hank had stood here before, for Macie, this was all new. Uncharted territory.

He gave her a quick wink that did the trick. Her grin grew, her confidence found in an instant.

"You take my breath away," he whispered.

Macie reached up and touched his bowtie. Once he'd revealed to Macie his plans for a fancy wedding rather than a ratty-blue-jeans, standing-before-Elvis affair, she had begged him to wear a tuxedo rather than his one good suit.

Her gaze slid along his body, taking him in from top to bottom. "Ditto."

Adele and Porter had taken their places next to them, while Amanda and Brandi sat in two chairs near one of the garden fountains. The officiant, a very nice older gentleman they'd met briefly yesterday, began the ceremony and then invited them to speak the vows they had written. They turned to face each other, clasping hands.

Macie went first. "Part of me can't believe I'm really standing here. The past couple of months have felt like a whirlwind. One minute I'm slogging drinks at the bar, the next I'm in your kitchen, drinking wine, eating spaghetti and falling in love so damn hard, I'm surprised I didn't get a concussion."

Hank chuckled.

"No one has ever looked at me the way you do, Hank." Macie's face sobered, her voice going softer than he'd ever heard it. "I've never looked into a person's eyes and felt such complete, such total love and acceptance. I'm loud and brash and opinionated. I talk too much about stupid stuff. You're the first man who has ever found all of that charming. You love me for all the things that make me who I am. I don't know how to say it, but even though we're getting married, I've never felt more free in my life."

He squeezed her hand. "I understand," he whispered. He wondered how many people in her past had told her to tone it down, suggested she might find a man if only she were a little less herself, a little calmer, quieter. She'd mentioned as much to him the night of their first date.

"I love you, Hank Cooper. And I don't care if people say we're going too fast or I'm too young for you or you're insane for marrying me. I promise to love you until the day I die, and I'll do everything in my power to make you happy."

Hank swallowed heavily, certain he'd never heard anything more perfect.

"I know it's been a whirlwind, Macie," he admitted. "I've been way too impatient to get to the next part, moving us along at the speed of light. The thing is, I've spent a lot of the last five years or so just holding on, living life one minute at a time, not daring to dream about the future. I took what I got and I was grateful for it. Grateful for every single second I got to keep Sharon. Seemed greedy to want—or expect—more. So I just took it one step at a time, moving so slowly, it was like I hadn't moved at all."

Macie wiped her eyes and nodded. Though Hank had professed to have written his vows quickly, the truth was, while the words had hit the page quickly he'd struggled with whether or not he should say them. He worried about talking about Sharon on his wedding day to Macie. Then he realized he wanted her to know, to understand, once and for all, why he was standing there with her. Why there was no other place on earth he wanted to be.

"You saved me, Macie. I don't think you realized it at the time. For months after Sharon died, I was drowning. In grief, bitterness, anger, loneliness. And then there was you. Inch by inch, you dragged me out of the murky depths. You pulled me up to shore and showed me a different way to live." He paused and gave her a grin. "So really, what it comes down to is this is all your fault."

Macie laughed, the sound mixed with a sob. "Figures."

"I look at you and I'm not seeing minutes or hours. I'm seeing years. I'm seeing a lifetime. I'm seeing everything I've always wanted, but didn't dare admit. I want it all. Kids and dogs and burned chicken and growing old and the sweet smell of bourbon. I want to dream about forever with you every single day, and I believe it exists. Believe that it's ours for the taking."

Macie had been fighting her tears until that point, but it seemed she'd given up the battle. She let them glide along her cheeks and he reached up to wipe them away.

Then he gave her the same promise she'd just made to him. "I love you, Whiskey. And I will until the day I die."

The rest of the ceremony—hell, the rest of the day—flashed by in the blink of an eye. They exchanged rings and kissed. They were engulfed in hugs and well wishes and tissues were passed around as all the women were crying and laughing at the same time.

They all went inside for a fancy dinner, followed by dancing and dessert and more than a few bottles of champagne. TJ had made one toast after the other, each one funnier and racier than the next.

And then, finally, he and Macie made their way back to the room, tipsy and giddy and more than ready to consummate the marriage.

Macie walked straight to the bed, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Undo my buttons?"

Her pretty wedding dress dipped low in the back, held in place by a dozen or so tiny pearl buttons that started halfway down her spine. He stepped behind her, slipping each one free as he kissed the side of her neck.

"Been waiting all day to get you here," he murmured.

She turned when the last button was unfastened. Macie slid the satiny material off her shoulders, the whole dress falling to the floor. She slipped off her heels as well.

Hank glanced down and enjoyed the view. Macie had obviously bought a new bra and thong to go with her dress.

"Damn, Whiskey."

"See what happens when you give a girl time to prepare?"

He laughed at her joke. "Shaved legs?"

She nodded. "That's not the only thing I shaved."

His gaze flew to her panties as she toyed with the elastic. "Take them off, Macie."

Macie sighed, though she didn't sound upset by his demand. "Still lord of the manor? Even in Vegas?"

He nodded. It had become a running joke between them. The way she was always naked, him fully dressed. Hank wasn't sure why that was such a turn-on for him, but he didn't intend to change his ways anytime soon.

Macie tugged the thong down and then—because she was a quick learner and knew what request was coming next—she added the bra to the pile.

Hank took a deep breath and told himself to slow down. This was his wedding night. He wanted it to last, wanted it to be special.

Macie must have sensed his hesitance. "Hank?"

"Yeah?"

"We have forever."

Her words set him free. He gently pressed her back onto the bed and then, as she watched, he stripped out of his tux. Within minutes, he was on top of her, inside her, sliding in slowly, deeply, as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her hands around his neck, and kissed him.

Forever.

They had forever.