The Bachelors by E. S. Carter

Author:E. S. Carter [Carter, E. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 35483752
Publisher: E.S. Carter
Published: 2017-09-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Lydia had chosen to marry in skin-tight jeans, a fitted husband style white shirt complete with a black lace bra underneath, and two-toned Merci Allen, sky-high patent Louboutin heels. Over-sized Bvlgari sunglasses completed her ensemble. She didn’t look like a woman about to pledge her life to someone else. She looked like a Hollywood starlet on her way to meet a friend for an expensive coffee.

Wick still wore his poorly fitted, rented suit. Lydia could’ve arranged something else for him to wear, but she liked the image of the rich spoiled bitch marrying her commoner. Shame there wasn’t going to be anyone there to document the spectacle. Well, except the officiant of course.

Sat in the back of a corny and clichéd pink Cadillac, with Wick at her side, and the driver from The Mansion like a giant behind the wheel, the lovebirds—yes, that was what the woman welcoming them to the Little White Chapel’s Tunnel of Love called them—couldn’t look less in love if they tried.

Wick had attempted to hold her hand, but she’d rebuffed him. He tried to pull her into his side, but she’d pushed him away.

Was Lydia finally having pre-wedding nerves? No, she just couldn’t go through with this and touch him. It felt too intimate, even though he’d had his head between her thighs on at least three occasions in the last twenty-four hours.

Sex was different. Lydia knew that sex didn’t mean intimacy, but holding a man’s hand while marrying him was.

The Cadillac inched its way beneath the ostentatious roof of the drive-through wedding canopy, and a gaggle of cherubs laughed down at them from a navy night’s sky. The words ‘I can’t live without you’ in white script beckoned them further into the tunnel until they slowly pulled up alongside the drive-thru wedding window. Once stationary, a man in a dark grey suit and tie greeted them from behind the small service window with a beaming smile on his face.

“Welcome to The Tunnel of Love,” he exclaimed. “Do you have your licence please?”

Lydia pushed herself up until she was sitting on top of the back seat with her heeled shoes dimpling the pristine leather of the Cadillac’s upholstery. Wick followed her lead and his long, lean body pressed alongside her. Lydia held back her flinch at the contact, and handed the wedding officiant their hot off the press license with a steady hand. The broad, fake smile she plastered on her face made her cheeks hurt and her throat dry.

“We don’t want a drawn-out ceremony,” she informed the man, toning down her smile somewhat before glancing coyly at Wick by her side and fluttering her long lashes even though her sunglasses hid them from view.

“We’ll triple your fee if you make this happen as quickly as possible. You see, my husband is a ravenous man and we’d like to get on with the consummation part of the day.”

She finished her offer by saucily lowering her glasses to the end of her nose and winking at the officiant whose face brightened significantly.

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