for short—for his sister.
Okay, so that was the one hand. On the other, he was a fool to think, even for a second, his dreams were about to come true.
For the last time, man, Lilly was hired by your worst enemy to mess with your head. Lilly probably isn’t even her real name!
“Dallas?”
Finn looked up to see her.
“I don’t mean to invade your privacy,” she said, “but our brunch is almost ready.” She capped her words with a shy, intoxicatingly pretty grin. “After being up all night, you must be starving, and well—” she ducked her gaze “—you know it’s not healthy to wait too long between meals.”
As if watching himself in a movie, Finn heard the low din of conversation, the chink of silverware against china, the sad strains of a country song playing over hidden speakers. He smelled cigarette smoke and bacon and the sticky sweet scent of maple syrup. And while he was acutely aware of all that, he tried not to be aware of his ridiculous curiosity as to what it might be like to start a family with this woman who might be named Lilly.
Cautiously he slipped his arm about her wisp of a waist, gazing deep into her baby blues. Matt’s words skipped through his brain. She likes you. You like her. What’s the problem?
“Dallas? Are you already feeling weak?” She stood on her tiptoes, skimming cool fingers across Finn’s fevered forehead. “You’re hot.”
For you.
“Maybe we should get you to the motel so you can lie down?”
“You want me to lie down, huh?” Steering her toward their table, he held her deliciously tightly.
“Watch it, mister. You know what I mean. You look sick.”
“Gee, thanks.”
They’d left the dark hall to enter the maze of tables and he took her by the hand to lead her through.
“Congratulations,” called out a portly man seated at the counter as they passed. “Have y’all been married long?”
Lilly beamed. “Almost an hour.”
“Well, that’s just great. Good luck to you both.” To Finn he said, “Take care of this little missy. I can tell just by lookin’ at her she’s a special gal.”
“Um, thanks.” Finn hardly even slowed on his way to their table.
“Dallas?” she complained once they slid into their booth. “Why didn’t you stop and say something to that man? He was being nice.”
He sighed. “Sorry. I guess after our long night I didn’t feel up to small talk.”
“You are sick, aren’t you?”
“No. Really, I feel fine.”
“Then why do you seem different?”
“You’re overreacting, Mrs. Lebeaux. I’m just tired.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Okay, then tell me who you called and what they said that’s made you so glum.”
Finn took a deep breath. There you go, man. You’ll never get a better chance to bring up the bet. Ask her what she’s doing hooked up with a slimeball like Mitch—not to mention what it’d take to buy out her contract.
Unfortunately, just as Finn was about to pose his question, a waitress wearing a wig that looked more like tinsel than hair stopped in front of their table. “Who ordered the Graceland Special?”
“Me,” Finn said.
“Okeydoke.” She slid a double cheeseburger and crinkle fries in front of him. “This must be yours,” she said, setting another burger and fries in front of Lilly before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. “Strange but true observation—the only other couple I know who order burgers for breakfast has been married over sixty years. You two have that same look about you—the one that says you just might go the distance.”
“Thank you,” Finn’s bride gushed, pressing her hands to glowing cheeks. “Including the minister who married us, you’re the third person this morning to wish us luck, and you know what they say about the third time being a charm.”
“Oh, so then this is your third marriage?” There was barely a rise in the waitress’s purple eyebrows.
“Um, no,” Lilly said with a cute frown.
Finn hid his grin behind his burger.
“I, um, meant you were the third person to wish us luck on this marriage.”
“Oh, sure.” The waitress sagely nodded. “That’s great. Oh—and hey,” She reached into the pocket of her short black skirt to draw out two slips of red paper. “Before I forget—The King, also known as my boss, Kenny, gives these to all our newlyweds.”
“What are they?” Lilly asked, accepting their gift.
“Complimentary tickets to the matinee performance of Elvis’s Bird and Dog Show. You’ll love it.”
“Yo, Moonbeam!” a burly bald man called from across the room. “My hair’s not grownin’ any thicker waitin’ on you!”
“Keep your pants on, Burt. I’m comin’.” To Lilly and Finn, Moonbeam said, “Enjoy the show,” before heading Burt’s way.
“Wasn’t she sweet?” Lilly said. “And what fun we’ll have with these tickets. A bird and dog show. How exciting. I wonder if the animals perform together?”
Finn suppressed what had to be his hundredth groan of the morning. “As newlyweds, don’t we have something else we’re supposed to be doing?”
“Don’t tell me you mean…you know…” Her cheeks turned a dozen shades of pink.
“Yeah, that’s what I mean. So? Doesn’t that sound like more fun?”
“Dallas,” she scolded. Lowering her voice, she said, “You know my feelings on that subject. I think it’d be best if we got to know each other first.” She looked at the tickets, then her watch. “The show starts at noon. It’s ten past eleven, which means if we’re going to check into the motel first—just to guarantee our room and change our clothes—then we’d better hurry up and eat.”
Ooh, you’re smooth. What an amazing stroke of luck the way Lilly had managed to wriggle her ripe little tush out of sealing their vows just yet.
“This tastes delicious,” she said, swallowing a bite of her burger. “I can’t stand eggs, so when I was a kid, I told Mom that as soon as I grew up, I was only eating hamburgers for breakfast.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No. Why would I make something like that up?”
“I wasn’t implying you would, it’s just that I feel the same way about eggs—or any breakfast
