Snapshot (Lessons in Love Book 2)

“L

ucky number eighteen,” I say, holding up a white ticket. I plop down next to Lennox on the wooden bench outside the chapel doors. “There are four couples ahead of us. But apparently, the officiant used to be an auctioneer, so he’ll have us in and out like that.” I snap my fingers.

The whole bench is shaking because she’s jiggling her knee aggressively. She’s hunched over, her elbows resting on her thighs, holding her phone between both hands. “Mhm,” she mumbles.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask. Lennox wasn’t this nervous an hour ago at the courthouse when we got our marriage license. She was cool as a cucumber, but now she seems out of sorts.

“Nothing, you?” she mutters distractedly. Her eyes are fixed on her screen and the death grip she’s sporting might snap her phone in half.

“I’m debating how much tongue I’m going to slip you during our first kiss after we say, ‘I do.’”

She’s glaring at me through her peripherals, but at least that grabs her attention. “Funny.”

“Will you lighten up? Who are you texting?” I nudge her knee with mine, and it calms.

“I need to text my mom, but I don’t know what to say.” Her tone turns pleading. “Do I say I got married, or I got a job? Honestly, she’ll be equally shocked at both.”

Sometimes I forget other people have families that care about their life choices outside of the financial implications. “Is she going to be mad? I’ve met your mom a time or two. I thought it went fine.”

“Mom likes you, Dex. It’s not that. It’s just…” She trails off, shrugging.

“What?” I prod.

“I haven’t been making the best decisions for my future lately. This seems like piling on.”

I scoff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What happens when you’re done with me in a year? Then what?” she asks. “What kind of jobs do you apply for after being a CEO, except you weren’t qualified to be one in the first place? How do you tell your future boyfriends that you’re a divorcée but your marriage wasn’t real? I’m just”—she jostles her head—“trying to think it through. These are the questions my mom is going to ask. I’m preparing my defenses.”

I pull her phone out of her hands and set it aside. “Do you not want to do this? We can walk out right now.”

She rolls her eyes. “And let you marry Blonde Harvard Barbie? I don’t think so. Who is going to call you pretty boy and build you perfect Subway sandwiches? You need a friend, not a stranger, Dex. You need me.”

Subway sandwiches aren’t why I need her, but I do, in fact, need her. I laugh. “I’m not going to be done with you, Len. I already told you I’d set you up. If you don’t want money, I’ll help you figure out a stable career. All you have to do is figure out what you want from your life.”

“That’s sort of the problem.” She pats her thighs, resulting in a loud clap that echoes against the walls. “I don’t know what I want to do. I’m twenty-seven and I still have no idea.”

I grab her hand and squeeze twice before releasing it. “I’ll call your mom tomorrow and explain everything. How’s that?”

A bewildered smile claims her face. “You’re going to call my mom?”

I nod. “Yes. I’ll take the heat. And anyway, there’s the matter of your dowry we need to discuss. I’m not greedy. I don’t want their money. Just a few cows, an ox, and some grain will do.”

She rolls her eyes. “You ass.”

“There she is.” I nudge her shoulder. “And if it makes you feel better, I’ll explain to all of your boyfriends until the end of time how your divorcée status is simply evidence of what an incredible friend you are.”

She shakes her head. “That won’t be necessary. Good to know we’ll stay friends until the end of time, though.”

“Can I tell you something?”

She already looks more relaxed. Her shoulders slack as she leans back against the bench that creaks in protest. “Of course.”

“You’re not just my best friend; I think you’re my only friend.”

“That’s not true. You have everyone at the dive shop. Finn, Avery, and even you and Leah are still on good terms, right?”

“Surface level, sure. But you’re the only person I really talk to.”

She peers at me from the corner of her eyes, skepticism painting her face. “That can’t be right. You have a whole other life in Miami. What about all the friends you grew up with?”

I scoff. “I was very much raised in a bubble.”

“Who’d you have to talk to?” Lennox asks. She pulls one knee up onto the bench. It brushes against my thigh as she turns to me.

“Grandma.”

“And now she’s gone,” Lennox says softly.

I nod with a clipped smile. “Pretty much.”

“Dex, that’s so sad. I’m very sorry. I feel terrible for you.”

Running my finger over her forehead, I try to smooth out the wrinkles of her concern. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not trying to play the sad, little rich boy card. Nobody likes that.”

“Can I tell you something?” she asks.

“Sure.”

“You can be rich and sad. I don’t think money fixes everything. In fact, if I learned anything from my dad, it breaks far more than it fixes.”

My smile grows and I feel the warmth I always do around Lennox. She’s a twenty-seven-year-old temp, but she doesn’t see her superpower. A fancy career or degree isn’t necessary. She’s already got everything she needs to be okay. Lennox, with her sassy outfits and purple hair, is always the wisest person in the room. The world just needs to listen.

I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and the touch feels different. It’s not friendly, more laced with intimacy. But this time, she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she gulps so hard, I hear it. Then, she licks her lips. Probably self-consciously because I’m staring at them so intently.

I want to feel them. The urge is getting to be too much to resist. Lennox should be mine. She’s actually moments away from being mine. Those lips belong to me. I lean in a little closer as I decide consequences be damned…I have to taste them⁠—

“Sir!” The chapel’s assistant comes barreling down the hallway, making a ruckus, ruining my moment of opportunity.

“What?” I grumble in agitation.

She’s holding out a white plastic bag. “You forgot this at the front. This comes with your package. Her veil is in there as well. Congratulations,” she says before hurrying back down the hallway.

“Package?” Lennox straightens up in her seat, her eyes bright and big. Our moment of temptation over.

“I splurged and got the Deluxe package,” I say with a little sarcasm. “It comes with a commemorative shot glass, and you get to keep the veil. I just wanted to give you the wedding of your dreams.” I bat my eyelashes innocently at her.

“How much is splurging?” She grabs the bag and pulls out a pathetic-looking plastic tiara with a short white veil attached. The ruby gems glued to the crown look like the end result of a kindergarten homework assignment. “Seriously, what a scam. How much did they charge for this cheap crap?”

“I don’t know, Len. I usually don’t look at prices.”

I don’t register the effect of my words until I see her bewildered expression. “So, when you go out to eat at a nice restaurant, you don’t even check the dinner bill?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“When you buy clothes and shoes?”© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

I lock eyes with her, slowly realizing what’s going through her head. But why lie? She’s going to find out soon enough. “In Miami, I have personal staff who shop for me and fill my closets.”

“What about when you buy a car? You don’t even check the price?”

“No,” I reply flatly, growing weary of the conversation.

“How about a house?”

I clear my throat, listening to it echo off the walls. The music from the chapel behind us dies down, and suddenly, it’s very quiet in the hallway. “Grandpa, Grandma, and I would typically make real estate offers under a trust not associated with our names. If we were to purchase under ‘Hessler,’ the seller would probably try to charge me ten times the actual value.”

“Which you could still afford?” She’s twisting the tiara in her hand nervously. It’s so cheap and thin that it easily bends back and forth.

“Yes. Careful, you’re going to snap that in half.”

But she doesn’t stop. “How much is your house in Miami worth?”

Why do I feel like she’s staring at me naked? But not in a sexy way. Just in a way in which I feel uncomfortably exposed. “Which one?”

“The biggest one.”

“That’d be the Hessler Estate. And technically, it belonged to my family, not just me. Not to mention, I’m selling it to Denny⁠—”

“Dex, quit avoiding the question.”

“A little north of forty million. What are you getting at?”

Crack! The tiara snaps in half. She grabs her palm where the sharp edge of the plastic bit her. “Ow,” she mumbles.

“I warned you.” I take her hand and pull it to my lips. Kiss. As if a little peck will fix everything. I meant it as a sweet gesture but she rips her hand away, her cheeks flushing crimson.

“That thing you said earlier about Denny being upset I’m not Ivy League… Who’s Denny?”

“She’s my family’s household manager. A personal assistant of sorts but with more authority. Right now, she’s the closest thing I have to family. She’s been around since before I was born. But the thing I said about Ivy League was just a jab at Denny. It bothers me how pretentious she is sometimes. Len…” I wait until her eyes are on mine. “That’s my world, but I’m not like that.”

“You sure?” she asks with a reluctant smile. “Because for three years, I’ve wondered why you turned me down the night we met. You haven’t made a move since. You’re sweet, considerate, and flirt with me shamelessly. You hate my boyfriends. It didn’t make sense. Until tonight.”

My face screws up in confusion. “What makes sense now?”

“You cared about me too much to hit it and quit it. But I’m also not your pedigree. So, I guess friends made the most sense.”

“Len, that’s so out of⁠—”

“Who’s my number eighteen? You’re up!” The officiant busts through the chapel doors with his auctioneer voice. I might’ve laughed if his timing wasn’t piss-poor.

I hold up our ticket between two fingers but keep my eyes on Lennox. She looks like she’s about to cry. Just stay with me. Let me explain how you’ve got this all wrong. “We need a minute,” I say, but he doesn’t hear me.

“Oh, hey there, missy, you broke your veil.” He looks at Lennox’s lap. “I can grab another from the front.”

“That’s all right.” She clears her throat and stands up. “We’re ready.”

He glances between me and Lennox, finally cluing into the tension. “You sure?”

His gut is begging to break free of his beige suit. And apparently, I just hurt my bride’s feelings. Not to mention she’s in cowgirl boots and we both smell like the bar we were drinking at. This isn’t right. She deserves a dress and a real veil. Lennox should get married knowing how her groom actually feels about her. This wasn’t how anything was supposed to go.

Nothing in the past few weeks is how my life was supposed to go.

Every time things would get too far off course like this, and I didn’t know what was best, I’d call Grandma. If I could, I’d ask her what to do in this moment, but she already made her intentions clear from beyond the grave. Her decision is why I’m in this mess to begin with.

“You still want to do this?” I ask Lennox.

Her nod is too eager. Overcompensating. “I gave you my word.”

“And now I’m giving you an out.”

She holds out her hand to me and wiggles her fingers. “Dex Hessler, get your ass up and let’s get married.”

Lennox

Dex didn’t slip me tongue. In fact, after it was all said and done, he pecked me on the cheek. Even the officiant gave him the side-eye. I was so embarrassed I stormed out of the chapel like a child and hunted down the nearest rideshare driver.

I knock on the darkly tinted passenger window. Once it rolls down, I point to the neon pink rideshare sign visible through his windshield. “Hey, are you waiting for someone, or are you free?”

“Are you headed to the Strip?” he asks.

He looks like a freaking kid. Eighteen, maybe? I bet he can’t drink. He looks barely old enough to legally hold this job. His hat is backward, and he’s wearing a cut-off gym shirt with two gold chains around his neck. Yet, there’s a blazer neatly folded and lying in the passenger seat of his nice SUV. It’s safe to say I am confused about everything going on in front of me. Then again, I just came barreling out of a wedding chapel in a white tank top, jean shorts, and cowgirl boots with my groom nowhere in sight. I’m hardly in a position to judge.

“No,” I answer. “Opposite direction. Near Calico Springs. It’s about thirty minutes from here.”

He twists his lips. “That’s too far. I can make, like, three trips back and forth from the Strip in that time. I don’t like to venture from my normal route.”

There are footsteps on the concrete approaching me, but before I can turn, Dex wraps his forearm around my shoulders from behind. He pulls me backward into the firm wall of his body so when he leans through the open window, he’s not squishing me against the door.

“Can you make an exception?” Dex asks the kid.

It’s too dark for me to see how much cash Dex handed him, but it’s enough to earn an eager, “Yes, sir. I’ll get the door for you guys.” The kid opens his door in a hurry.

“Just sit down and start the car,” he grumbles. He’s rubbed the wrong way. Probably because the driver gave me a hard time before he showed up. I’d say this newfound protectiveness is because now I’m his wife, but Dex has always been this way. Whenever I’m with him, he doesn’t tolerate anyone cutting me in lines, talking over me, or bumping into me without an immediate “excuse me” or apology. I thought it was manners. Maybe it was more.

I shuffle to the backdoor and grab the handle, but Dex plants his hand on the door, making it impossible for me to open it.

Spinning around to face him, I ask, “What?”

He moves in a little closer to me. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “Yeah. Why?”

“Because I think you just tried to ditch my ass ten seconds after marrying me.”

I make a face, pretending like he’s crazy, even though he’s spot-on. “Not at all. The smoke machine mixed with the strobe lights were making me nauseous. I had to get out of there unless you wanted vomit on your shoes.”

The look he’s giving me tells me he’s unconvinced. He sees right through me as usual. “Yeah, that was a little much. I didn’t realize the fog machine came with the Deluxe package.” He cracks a smile, but it quickly disappears. “It was hard to see you in there. I was just repeating whatever bullshit the officiant was telling me to. It felt like I was making promises to a cloud of smoke.”

I turn down the corner of my lips and nod. “Well, husband, nice to know you think our vows are bullshit.” I chuckle, but Dex’s eyes are too intense. He’s not laughing or smiling. I feel silly, like I’m the only one laughing at a cruel joke. So, I stop.

“They weren’t real. To have, hold, and obey? That doesn’t mean anything.”

I shrug. “Well, neither does this marriage. So…”

“Do you want this to be meaningful? You want me to tell you how I really feel about you? Because once I do, there’s no going back.”

I lean back so hard into the door, I’m sure the metal is going to bruise my spine. “What do you mean?”

“There’s another side of me, and he is the antithesis of the man you want. Corporate, money, politics…that’s the version of me I’ve been hiding from you. And it’s a big part of me and my future. The side of my life that’d sink any potential for a relationship for us. And I’m not interested in losing you, Len. But it’s your choice. Do you want us to stay where it’s safe? Or do you really want to cross this line and risk ruining our friendship?”

I slump forward, my forehead knocking against his chest. The thin fabric of his shirt is cool against my hot skin. “Ruin it,” I mumble against him. “Tell me how you really feel about me.”

His chest lifts as he takes in a drawn-out inhale. He’s breathing deeply while I’m holding my own breath, waiting for an answer to the question I’ve had for three long years.

“Trouble…my heart stops every time you walk into a room. I am fucking obsessed with you. I have been from the very first moment you showed up at my bedroom door and gave me that ten-dollar bill.” He reaches out to cup my cheek, running his thumb along my bottom lip. “But how do we make sense? My destiny is everything you despise. I didn’t know how else to keep you close except with…lies.”

I gasp like I’ve just come up for air after holding my head underwater for too long. Finally, here’s my answer. I was never alone in the needy ache. It’s been torturing us both for so damn long. And now I’m going to put us both out of our misery. “I can handle it, Dex. All your sides. I’ll be right next to you for all of it.”

“Promise?” he asks.

“Promise.”

I press my ear against his chest, and his erratic heartbeat gives him away. His breath is ragged, and while this is a moment of solace for me, he seems unnerved.

“What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing.” He wraps me in his arms, his embrace a blanket against the cool night air. I cross every line. I wrap my hands around his hips, grazing the top of his belt. All I can think is it needs to come off. Every single barrier between Dex and me is over now—the half-truths, secrets, our clothes—it’s all coming down tonight. “So what’s next?” he asks. “What are we now? Married? Friends? Dating? All of the above?”

His body is a playground I finally get to explore. After taking my time running my hands across his lower back, then tracing his hard abs, I place them flat against his pecs. Leaning away, looking for his eyes, I allow myself to get fully lost in the green and honey-colored patches. “I don’t know. We said, ‘I do,’ and then you pecked me on the cheek.”

“I was trying to maintain boundaries,” he answers defensively. “I didn’t know what you wanted.”

I grab his shirt and tighten my fist, pulling him closer. “You. For three fucking years, Dex. You.”

Then, his full, cool lips are on mine. The woodsy, rich, sweet smell of his mouth-watering cologne is all I breathe in as he kisses me. He’s pressed so tightly against me, I can’t tell where his body stops and mine begins. We’re melted into one, the car barely bracing our interwoven bodies.

Breathless, he breaks away. Searching my eyes, he asks, “How’d that kiss feel?”

The answer is so simple. “Completely addicting.”

His lips are on mine again, and I’m kissing my husband back like I’m starving for him.

Tongue and all.