The other side of the door was quiet. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” I said. “Just one minute, please.”

After a few more minutes, there was another knock on the door. “Abby?” It was Chantilly. “Can I come in, honey?”

“No. I’m sorry, but no. I’ll be okay. I just need a little more time, and I’ll be ready.”

After another five minutes, three knocks on the door caused beads of sweat to form along my hairline. These knocks were familiar. Stronger. More confident.

“Pidge?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Cash

Travis

The door blew open. “She’s here! I just showed her to a dressing room to freshen up. Are you ready?”

“Yeah!” I said, jumping to my feet. I wiped my sweaty palms on my slacks and followed Chantilly out to the hallway, and into the lobby. I stopped.

“This way, honey,” Chantilly said, encouraging me toward the double doors that led into the chapel.

“Where is she?” I asked.

Chantilly pointed. “In there. As soon as she’s ready, we’ll get started. But, you have to be at the other end of the aisle, sugar.”

Her smile was sweet and patient. I imagined she dealt with all kinds of situations, from drunks to jitters. After one last look at the door to Abby’s room, I followed Chantilly down the aisle and she gave me the rundown on where to stand. While she was talking, a man with thick chops and an Elvis costume pushed open the door in grandiose fashion, curling his lips and humming “Blue Hawaii.”

“Man, I really like Vegas! You like Vegas?” he said, his Elvis impression spot-on.

I grinned. “Today I do.”

“Can’t ask for better than that! Has Ms. Chantilly told you everything you need to know to be a mister this mornin’?”

“Yeah. I think.”

He slapped my back. “No worries, fella, you’re gonna do just fine. I’ll go get your missus. Be back in a flash.”

Chantilly giggled. “Oh, that Elvis.” After a couple of minutes, Chantilly checked her watch, and then walked back down the aisle toward the double doors.

“This happens all the time,” the officiant assured me.

After another five minutes, Chantilly popped her head through the doors. “Travis? I think she’s a little . . . nervous. Do you want to try to talk to her?”

Fuck. “Yeah,” I said. The aisle seemed short before, but now it felt like a mile. I pushed through the doors, and raised my fist. I paused, took a breath, and then knocked a few times. “Pidge?”

After what felt like two eternities, Abby finally spoke, her voice on the other side of the door. “I’m here.” Even though she was only inches away, she sounded miles away, just like the morning after I brought those two girls home from the bar. Just the thought of that night made me feel a burning sickness in my gut. I didn’t even feel like the same person I was then.

“You okay, baby?” I asked.

“Yes. I just . . . I was rushed. I need a moment to breathe.”