Nashville by Heart: A Novel (18 page)

What
if he changed his mind a few months from now? What if
she
changed
her
mind?

“Gillian.”
His voice was raw with emotion. “If you don’t mind having to live with a
skinny, workaholic who has to go dragging his clients—and colleagues—out of the
bar sometimes, but will take you to church on Sunday and love you to the moon
and back, I’m that guy. What I’m saying is, I’d be the happiest man on Music
Row if you’d marry me. Tonight.”

She
bit her lip. Was she about to do this?

“Marry
me tonight,” he whispered, his voice husky. Her heart pounded with an array of
emotions.

Finally,
she couldn’t take those puppy dog eyes any more. “OK. Yes! You don’t have to
beg!”

He
looked surprised, jumped up and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs
around him and whooped.

“Now
we have to give our song a new ending.”

He
set her down. “Why’s that?”

“Because
they can’t wake up in the morning and regret their vows.”

“I
already told you. You’re getting your happily ever after all in one night. We
can rewrite the song any time we want to, and we won’t regret anything. I
promise.”

~~~~

 “Does
that mean I get Loretta?” Tasha was standing in her waitress dress beside June
at The Sweetest Tea, one hand planted on her hip.

“OK.
You get Loretta, as long as you’ll be my maid of honor.” They both exploded
into giggles. “And I want visiting rights.”

Tasha
grabbed her hand. “You threw your rules out the window, and now you’re getting
married—to a hot cowboy!” She squealed, pulling Gillian into a hug. “I’m so
proud of you, girl.”

“Wait
a minute!” June ran back into the kitchen and soon appeared with a pink box.
She called out a few instructions to her staff and turned to Gillian. “You need
some kind of cake, and I have cupcakes. And did you call ahead?”

“Um…
no?” Gillian hadn’t even thought about needing to prepare. The whole thing was
spontaneous.

June
set the cake box down. “Someone get me the number for The Rock-and-Roll Wedding
Chapel.” It turned out they needed a two-hour notice.

Gillian
suddenly felt the seriousness of what she was about to do.

June
grabbed her hands. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

In
the truck, June reached from the backseat and lightly punched Will in the arm.
“Where’s your Elvis costume? I’ve heard stories about this chapel. I’ve been
dying to see it.”

They
were off to Dorothy’s house next. She and her husband were enjoying a night of
reality television while the kids were off at their grandparents’ house. They
seemed thrilled to jump in their own car and follow the rowdy group to the
chapel, but only after Dorothy thoroughly cross-examined Gillian to see if this
was what she really wanted to do. When Gillian said yes, Dorothy smiled.

“I
didn’t think anyone could have a shorter engagement than Roy and me,” Dorothy
said. “And you have to let us bring you some food. I know you’ll be too busy to
cook.”

“And
that’s why you won’t be delivering any food,” Will quipped. Everyone laughed,
including Gillian who blushed like a hot summer day.

~~~~

The
chapel was all white except for the flashing red and gold lights trimming the
eaves. Inside was a large entrance with crimson carpet and indigo drapes. They
were met by a middle-aged woman with a vintage hairdo like Priscilla Presley’s,
even though her nametag just said Martha.

“Do
you want an officiant or an Elvis impersonator to perform your ceremony?”

Will’s
mouth dropped open. He quickly deferred to Gillian.

“They
are both licensed,” she assured them.

“Then
definitely Elvis.”

June,
Tasha and Dorothy cheered while the men shrugged. Gillian grasped Will’s hand as
Priscilla/Martha showed them to a waiting room plastered with leopard-print
wall paper. It was, conveniently, a gift shop too. June and Tasha pulled
Gillian over to a rack of veils. Giggling the whole time, they tried various
ones on her until Dorothy finally walked over and drew the line.

“This
night might be a spectacle,” Dorothy said, “but it’s not a parade.” She
selected a white traditional-looking shoulder length veil and settled it on top
of Gillian’s head. When she pulled it over her face, they all gasped.

Gillian
glanced in the mirror. She loved it, but would Will?

She
turned to see his reaction.

He
looked dumbstruck.

~~~~

Will
swallowed, trying to clear the catch in his throat. He let his eyes travel over
the silky white shirt she wore with a pair of jeans that fit her just right and
those same boots she always had on. She looked gorgeous as always, but the veil
transformed her. It struck him with a jolt that she was going to be his wife.
What was it about a woman in a wedding veil that could make a man turn all
mushy? He couldn’t speak. He crossed the room and took her hand, staring at her
through the gauzy fabric.

“Beautiful,”
he finally managed to say.

He
wished they could be alone, so he could tell her what he was thinking without
the prying eyes of their friends, but as he was about to pull her into a
corner, Elvis showed up. He introduced himself as Elvis. Will shook his hand.
He’d seen plenty of Elvis impersonators in Nashville, so he wasn’t at all
surprised by the dyed-black hair and long sideburns, but the sight of him made
the women twitter. They made an unnecessarily big deal about his snow white
jumpsuit that was splattered with more rhinestones than Will had seen at The
Grand Ole Opry.

“Thank
you. Thank you very much. Now follow me.” They filled out some paperwork, and
Elvis reminded them they’d need to make a trip to the courthouse later.

Gillian
grabbed his arm. “I’m going to be your wife!” She grinned. “Your
wife
!”

For
a terrifying moment he thought his eyes were getting all wet, but with a sniff
he pulled her close. He couldn’t begin to describe the emotion that coursed
through him, despite the light-heartedness of the Elvis chapel.

He
was getting married, and he couldn’t wait to get his bride back home again.

“Let’s
get on with the show. We’re in a bit of a hurry.”

~~~~

The
actual chapel was surprisingly tasteful with traditional pews covered with red
cushions, a brocade carpet running up the aisle, and a heavy oak pulpit in
front. Gillian stood right outside the entrance door, peeking in as Will
swaggered up the aisle, followed by Roy and Dorothy. Gillian giggled nervously
at June and Tasha’s antics as they danced down the aisle in their waitress
dresses dropping silk rose petals. Elvis stood behind the podium, microphone in
hand, crooning
Love Me Tender
in a soulful voice.

Before
Gillian was ready, Priscilla/Martha gave her a gentle shove. She stumbled into
the aisle, clutching her bouquet of roses with shaking hands. Will stood about
twenty feet away with a broad grin on his face. He was awfully attractive in
his jeans, boots and a white shirt. He’d combed that scruffy hair, but it
showed signs of his running his hands through it, the way he always did when he
was impatient or nervous. Right now, he looked both.

Behind
the wedding party, Elvis, in a pair of gold-rimmed, dark sunglasses finished
his song and guided Gillian to the correct spot.

“Dearly
beloved,” Elvis said in a pitch perfect voice that made Gillian want to giggle.
He gestured toward the witnesses. “If anyone has reservations about these two
getting hitched, speak now or never—their love won’t wait.”

Everyone
laughed, but nobody spoke.

The
vows were Elvis-themed: Gillian promised not to step on Will’s blue suede
shoes, and Will told Gillian she was his little darlin’—which she already knew.

“Then
do you, Will Adams, take this little darlin’ to be your wife?”

He
grasped her hands, and the Elvis wedding trappings, the performance of it, fell
away.

“I
do.”

“And
do you, little darlin’, take Will Adams to be your husband?”

She
opened her mouth to answer, but before she could say the words she wanted to
say, she felt the waterworks coming. Will’s eyes grew wide. June and Tasha
moved to comfort her, but Will beat them to it. Reaching under her veil, he
took her face in his hands.

~~~~

Will
couldn’t bear to see her cry. He smoothed away her tears with his thumbs,
remembering the day she’d cried in his office. That wasn’t all that long ago
either.

Had
he been wrong to think she was ready?

“What’s
the matter? I thought you wanted to get married.”

She
smiled a little, but a small sob escaped her throat. She closed her eyes.

“Look
at me, Gillian.” She blinked, her eyes wide and glistening. Will’s heart
twisted with apprehension. If she didn’t say yes, it would crush him.

Elvis
handed Gillian a tissue. She turned away from Will, and let Tasha and June
clean up her makeup the best they could under the circumstances. Dorothy also
appeared by her side and placed a firm hand on Gillian’s arm, seeming ready to
spirit her away. Will’s shoulders sagged.

It
looked like all the women were in agreement. Gillian turned back to him, her
eyes still shining, but the mascara that’d started streaming down her cheeks
was gone. He had no idea what’d just happened, but her smile grounded him to
the spot.

She
took a deep breath. “I do… I do want to marry you.” She turned to Elvis. “I
do.”

“You’d
better kiss her now,” Elvis instructed. “Before you run out of time.”

Will
flipped her veil back, wrapped one hand around her waist and the other gently
at the nape of her neck. He kissed her with a barely restrained passion that
left her gasping for breath. Cheers went up, and amidst all the celebrating, he
leaned to whisper in her ear.

~~~~

Will’s
breath was warm on her cheek, sending little shivers along her neck.

“Let’s
get out of here,” he said. “I’m ready for our wedding night.”

“Me
too.” And she was, but they still had to suffer through cupcakes and a
champagne toast, which wasn’t too bad since eating a cupcake had never been a
form of suffering in Gillian’s opinion. And once they toasted their undying
love, they rushed joyfully through a paltry shower of bird seed and out to
Will’s truck. Will and Roy shook hands, while Dorothy, June and Tasha hugged
Gillian and pushed her into the truck. Will honked as they drove away, and when
Gillian turned to wave, they were all climbing into Roy’s car.

Will
patted the seat beside him. “Git over here, little darlin’.”

Gillian
scooted across the seat, straddling the gear shift. She adjusted the cheap
veil, smiling to herself.

“Was
it a good enough wedding?” Will asked. “You weren’t sad it wasn’t some big
affair, were you?”

She
laughed. “It was a huge affair. Didn’t you see Elvis?” She tipped her face to
kiss his cheek before settling back into her seat beside him. “And it was
perfect.”

And
it
was
perfect. She didn’t want to forget a minute of it, so on her way
home she replayed the whole thing in her mind, memorizing every detail. When
they rambled up the driveway of Will’s—no,
their
—home, the stars beyond
the magnolia trees looked a little bit brighter.

Will
put the truck in park and turned off the ignition. He smiled, and not for the
last time, she was struck by what an attractive man he was, and a good one too.
She knew she’d married a man who would never, ever leave her.

“Welcome
home, Mrs. Gillian Adams.” She loved the sound of her new name on his lips.
“Stay right here.”

He
got out of the truck and met her on the passenger side.

“What
are you doing?”

He
lifted her out of the truck and cradled her in his arms. “Carrying my bride
over the threshold.”

“Wait.”
She reached for her purse and a small red Elvis bag.

“What’s
that?”

“A
wedding present from the girls.”

He
kicked the truck door closed and easily carried her up the long flight of steps
all the way to the door. She giggled as he fumbled with the key while balancing
her at the same time.

“You
know you can put me down for a second.”

“No,
I can’t.” Finally, he got the door open, and before he carried her through it,
he paused. “You ready for this?”

“I’ve
never been more ready for anything in my life.”