Sinners on Tour

by Olivia Cunning

  “I feel kind of dumb wearing this huge, fancy dress in the courthouse,” she said. The train was draped over one arm. She lifted the skirt in front and gave it a shake.

  “You shouldn’t feel dumb, you should feel beautiful,” he said. “Because you are.”

  When they reached the front of the line, they showed the clerk their IDs to have their marriage license prepared.

  “How do you want the names to read?”

  Eric froze. They hadn’t exactly discussed that. His birth name was Anderson, but his legal name was Sticks. Would she even want his name? He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. He knew it was chosen-by-an-eighteen-year-old lame.

  “Rebekah Esther Sticks,” Rebekah said without hesitation.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Of course. Unless you think I should lose my horrible middle name while I have the chance?”

  “I was referring to the last name.”

  “I definitely want that one,” she said, beaming up at him.

  He didn’t understand why her taking his chosen last name filled him with pride. “You’re the boss, Mrs. Sticks.”

  “Where do we go next? Is a judge performing our ceremony?” Rebekah asked.

  “Nope, not a judge,” he said.

  “A magistrate?”

  “Nope.”

  “Justice of the peace?”

  “Nope.”

  Rebekah’s brow crinkled. “Then who?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “You are certainly being mysterious today,” she said.

  “I’m always mysterious.”

  She laughed. “You’re never mysterious. Your openness is one of the things I love most about you.” She slid a hand up his neck, and there was no way he could resist that open invitation to indulge in a lengthy kiss.

  When he drew away, he cupped her cheek. “Sometimes surprises can be good things.”

  “I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me,” she said. “I’m sure it will be memorable.”

  She said memorable as if he’d hired a circus clown to spell out their vows in balloon letters and marry them on a trampoline. He grinned. She really was going to be surprised when she saw what a hopelessly traditional sap she’d agreed to marry.

  Marriage license in hand, he escorted her out of the courthouse and back to the car.

  “Um, where are we going?” she asked.

  He grinned at her, working hard at maintaining the mystery when all he wanted to do was tell her every little detail of his plan.

  “You’ll see,” he said.

  While they’d been inside, Jace had done his part and tied a collection of empty cans to the bumper of their car. He’d also attached a sign to the trunk that read, Almost Married.

  Rebekah giggled when she saw it and gave Jace another hug. This time he actually hugged her back.

  “I know today is all about making the bride happy,” Jace said quietly, “but take good care of that crazy man of yours. He’s sort of important to me.”

  Eric rolled his eyes and slapped Jace in the back of the head, as if hearing Jace spout sentimental drivel didn’t make him one happy bastard.

  “Did you bring a blindfold like I asked?” Eric asked.

  Jace pulled one out of his back pocket. “I always carry a spare.”

  Eric chuckled and took the black leather from Jace’s hand. “Of course you do.”

  “Why do you need a blindfold?” Rebekah asked.

  “I don’t,” he said, and slipped it over her head. “You do.”

  “Eric?”

  He covered her anxious eyes with the blindfold and was shocked by the surge of lust that flooded his groin at seeing her blindfolded in leather while wearing her very proper wedding gown.

  “Damn, baby. We’re going to have to use that thing again later tonight.”

  “Just don’t get your love goo all over it,” Jace said. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  “No promises,” Eric said as he took Rebekah’s hand to lead her to the car. “Goo sometimes winds up in the most unusual places.”

  “Such as lucky hats?” Jace chuckled.

  “Exactly.”

  Rebekah’s fingers trembled against his palm, but she put her trust in him and allowed him to direct her into the passenger seat. He wasn’t used to people depending on him or trusting him explicitly. It was a huge responsibility that he was ready to take on.

  When his woman was safely tucked inside the Corvette once more, Eric got in, started the car, and headed in the direction of his surprise venue. The aluminum cans clanked against the pavement behind them and several nearby drivers honked their horns in congratulations. All of which made him very happy. On this particularly loud and obnoxious drive, he didn’t have the urge to flip off any of the honkers.

  As he drove around several blocks looking for the place they would say I do, Eric hoped that Rebekah wouldn’t be mad that he hadn’t consulted her on the location he’d chosen. What if she hated this idea? What if it made her change her mind about loving him? Or worse, made her realize she’d never loved him, not even for a second?

  He glanced at her sitting so trustingly beside him and decided her coming to her senses would be the worst thing that had ever happened to him. And Eric had lived through some pretty fucked up shit in his youth.

  Chapter Four

  Rebekah had no idea where Eric was taking her, but she’d learned in the months that they’d been together that he was far more thoughtful than he looked and far more romantic than he acted. When he surprised a girl, it was a very good thing. She stroked the warm metal of her engagement ring, remembering the last time he’d surprised her. There was no way he could top that. Or could he?

  “Are you going to give me a hint about where we’re going?” she asked, shifting her blindfold to a more comfortable position, but not removing it. She was determined to be a good sport about his plans, even if they did turn into a fiasco. So far he was doing well, but she never knew what to expect out of Eric. Usually that was a good thing. But sometimes…

  “Nope. No hints.”

  She could hear the smile in his tone even over the road noise and the clunking of the cans trailing the car.

  “Can I try to guess?” she asked.

  “You can try, but I’m not going to tell you if you guess correctly.”

  The car bumped over a curve, jostling Rebekah into clinging to the dashboard. She had a hard time with Eric’s driving when she could see where they were going; it was a true test of her trust to ride in his passenger seat wearing a blindfold.

  “Are we going to the tattoo parlor?” she asked. They did plan to have their vows permanently etched on their skin. They’d discussed it several times. She’d already written her vows and had them memorized. She wasn’t sure if Eric had given his much thought yet.

  He chuckled. “You’re way off, sweetheart.”

  “But you said you wanted to have your vows tattooed into your sleeve, and I definitely want mine made into a beautiful work of art. Did you change your mind?” She stroked her bare upper arm, imagining a colorful and intricate design with flowers and butterflies and musical notes and words that expressed her love for Eric.

  “No, I still want to do that with you—for sure, can’t wait—but we can have the work done when we have more time. A big piece like that will take hours, and everyone is waiting for us now.”

  “Where?” she asked.

  “At your—” He broke off with a laugh. “You almost got me to say it.”

  “At my…” she said, pondering places that belonged to her and coming up lacking. “At my… At my what?”

  Not her parents’ house surely.

  He didn’t answer and met the rest of her questions and guesses with silence. Eventually the car pulled to a stop and she could hear voices speaking in a crowd, but they were too far away to make out any threads of conversation or identify who the voices belonged to. The blindfold suddenly dropped from her eyes to cover her nose a
s Eric tugged it down. She blinked in the glaringly bright light of the early evening sun and willed her eyes to adjust. Was that a circus tent? she thought as her aching eyes glimpsed something huge and white with two vertical stripes in some bright color. She squeezed her eyes shut again.

  “Are we getting married on a trapeze?” she asked.

  Eric laughed. “No, are you blind? We’re at your father’s church.”

  Her jaw dropped. She lifted a trembling hand to her lips, her eyes swimming with tears. She opened her properly adjusted eyes and there it was—just like Eric had said. Rebekah had so many happy memories of the little chapel with its tall stained-glass windows and white façade. Even though she’d been on the road and unable to attend church for months, she still recalled the worn but gleaming pews. The tall pulpit. The joyous choir. And her warm and welcoming father spreading the word of love to any who would listen. She didn’t have to go inside to feel her connection to this place. It was ingrained deep in her heart.

  “I probably should have asked, but I thought you might like your father to marry us. Since he’s in the business.”

  “Did my mother put you up to this?” she asked, knowing the woman could be a bit overbearing and that Eric was not a religious person. She couldn’t imagine him wanting to get married in a church, and she loved him enough to be okay with that. God would understand. He knew love, and he would never stand in its way. He didn’t care about gender or race or age or anything but the spread of his love. Rebekah had always believed that. Her father had been preaching it her entire life.

  “Okay,” Eric said with a heavy sigh, “this was obviously a poor decision on my part. I’ll just turn this car around and make a speedy getaway.”

  She covered his hand with hers before he could put the gears in reverse. “I would love my father to marry us in the church he adores, but I don’t want you to feel forced into doing something you aren’t comfortable with just because my mother happens to think she’s queen of the fucking universe.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. The woman had always been a bit too righteous. Even for a minister’s wife.

  Eric grinned. “She never suggested it. Like the dress, it was my idea. I called your parents’ house and when your father answered, I asked him if he’d be willing to marry us instead of giving you away. I think he was crying by the time I hung up, so if I feel any pressure at all, it’s because I don’t have it in me to break that man’s heart. But if you don’t want to get married here, I’ll drive away now and let you tell your daddy later.”

  She grabbed both of Eric’s hands and clutched them to her chest over her pounding heart. “But I do want to get married here. I do. I do.”

  “Hey, save all that I do stuff for the ceremony,” he teased.

  She flung herself into his arms and kissed him, the gearshift digging into her thigh—not that she cared just then.

  After a moment, she pulled away and examined his face. God, she loved him. How did he know what things were important to her? She’d never told him how much her daddy’s church meant to her. When they were off tour, she attended service on Sundays when she could, but Eric had never wanted to accompany her. He said church made him feel uncomfortable. So she’d gone by herself.

  Eric caught a stray tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “These better be happy tears, damn it,” he said.

  “The happiest,” she assured him.

  Eric captured her face between his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. “So you said I do and we kissed and everything, so does that mean we’re married and can start our wedding night? Because I really want to do things to you right now. Things I shouldn’t be thinking about in a church parking lot.”

  Before she could answer, there was a loud thud on the hood of the car. Eric jumped up and shot out of his seat to lean over the windshield and grab someone by the shirt.

  “You deliver a guy’s lucky tuxedo…” Trey said, both hands raised in surrender.

  “Don’t hit my car,” Eric said through gritted teeth. He shoved Trey in the chest as he released him.

  “I’ve been standing here trying to get your attention for several minutes,” Trey said. “But I see why you were distracted. Hellooooo, Rebekah Blake.”

  “Sticks,” Eric corrected.

  “Not yet,” Trey said with a wink directed at Rebekah. “She’s still on the market as far as I’m concerned.”

  Rebekah’s face flushed with heat. She wasn’t sure what it was about Trey Mills that made him such a walking aphrodisiac. She wouldn’t trade her Eric for a hundred Treys, but she wasn’t dead. The man was sexy in a flustering sort of way. She’d always thought so. Maybe it was strange that she could still find him attractive after knowing that he’d stolen her ex-fiancé Isaac’s heart and his cherry, but damn if she could hold that against the guy.

  “You already missed your chance at a threesome with Trey,” Eric whispered in her ear. “You better get over him fast.”

  She slapped him in the shoulder. “If I’d really wanted to have a threesome with Trey, I would have,” she said, just as her mother arrived at her side of the car. Thankfully her mom hadn’t heard what she’d said. Her mother freaked out over sections of Rebekah’s hair being colored blue or purple—as it currently was. Rebekah couldn’t imagine how many 360s the woman’s head would do if she’d known some of the things Rebekah had done on the Sinners’ tour bus outside the sanctity of marriage. Or even outside the propriety of a legitimate relationship.

  “So glad it fits you, baby girl,” her mom said, smiling brightly at her wedding dress. “See, I wasn’t always so big boned.”

  “You still look fantastic, Mom.”

  “I would totally do you, Mrs. B,” Trey said with an ornery grin.

  Rebekah was pretty sure that if any other man had said that to her mother—perhaps even her own husband—he would end up with a few less teeth, but Trey slipped a red sucker into his sensual mouth, clicking his tongue jewelry against it, and to Rebekah’s utter astonishment, her mother blushed and flicked her gaze to the ground.

  “Ah, well. Maybe twenty years ago,” she said, obviously flustered.

  “I like mature women,” he said. “And younger women. And women my own age.”

  “You like any woman with a pulse,” Eric said.

  Rebekah was glad Trey didn’t mention that he liked men of all ages as well. She wasn’t sure how her mother would handle knowing about Trey’s lack of preference or that Isaac—the man her mother had been convinced was perfect for Rebekah—had been just as charmed by Trey Mills as every woman in the immediate vicinity.

  “Will you stop fawning over Trey?” Eric complained.

  “I’m not fawning over Trey,” Rebekah said. “I’m too in love with you to even notice him.”

  “So you say.”

  “Trey never would have asked my mother to borrow her wedding dress.”

  “I’m a lot of things,” Trey said, “but a cross-dresser isn’t one of them.”

  Rebekah would flip him off for that later.

  “He never would have thought to ask my daddy to perform the wedding ceremony.”

  “Yeah, because I’m never getting married.”

  “Trey, I’m trying to have a private conversation with my perfect groom. Please see your way out of it.”

  “Rebekah Esther Blake, that was very rude,” her mother said.

  Rebekah sighed. “Maybe we should just go back to the courthouse and avoid our respective families.”

  “It’s closed by now,” Eric said.

  “Then let’s get hitched so we can hurry home to celebrate in private.”

  “I would very much like to celebrate your privates.” Eric sprang out of the car without opening the door and reached inside to scoop Rebekah into his arms. She laughed as he struggled to lift her out of the car through the open convertible top.

  “This seemed like a good idea,” he said, groaning in protest as he hefted her up and against his chest. “I think I broke my back.�
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  “Then let me walk,” she insisted.