“You aren’t the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve, Nikolai.”
True enough. My brother is a cagey son of a bitch. Luka is secretive, but Rion is sneaky and sly. They make an excellent cyber- and physical security team. Maxim is an operations and logistics kind of guy—cold and calculating.
Then there’s me. The wild card. If this stunt works, I’m going to be the top dog for once in my fucking life.
Inside the chapel, a leak in the ceiling has left water marks down the wall. The place smells of mildew and old carpeting. A gray-haired balding man with a potbelly sits behind a window. “Can I help you?” he says, peering at us blearily.
“We’re here to get married.” I gesture at the sign.
“Well thank you for choosing the Lucky in Love Chapel, where love lasts forever—if you’re lucky.” He winks broadly at me. “We are available to officiate your wedding 24-7 for as little as $99.99. Are you two tying the knot tonight as well?”
Behind me, Lilia and Rion must have made a face. “Ew. No. He’s my brother. They both are. We’re just here to witness the first one of my four brothers getting married,” my sister explains, and then makes kissing sounds at me. Brat.
“Very mature.” I swat her on the back of the head. Not hard. Nothing she isn’t used to from growing up with four older brothers. Lilia sticks out her tongue at me. Sierra ducks her chin to hide a smile.
“It’s just the two of us,” she tells the clerk.
“The package with up to four guests is $129.99. You want Elvis to serenade your ceremony?” He sings the chorus ofI Can’t Help Falling In Love. He’s got a surprisingly decent voice, but I shake my head.
“Just the ceremony.”
“Your fiancé is no fun,” he whispers conspiratorially to Sierra. “I’m going to need to see identification.”
Twenty minutes later, with our paperwork squared away, the clerk brings us into a chapel and leads us through a short recitation of vows. The miniature chapel is decorated in fake flowers with a filmy white curtain for a backdrop. A podium like you’d see in a conference room stands in the center. The place smells faintly of mildew. Three rows of white-painted pews with more fake flowers attached to the ends stand ready to host guests. Only Rion and Lilia stand there, beaming and smirking at us.
Sierra toys with her bouquet of cheap fake roses while she says the wordsto have and to hold, in sickness and in health.Promises neither of us intends to keep.
“Did you bring rings?” the officiant asks when the short ceremony is finished.
“No,” Sierra and I both answer at the same time. I want to brush the strand of hair that’s fallen across her cheek aside so I can read her expression. What is she thinking? This wedding is a farce. Does she regret it already? Weirdly, the idea pinches my gut.
“Use mine.” Lilia twists a gold band in the shape of an eagle with its wings spread wide from her finger. “Sierra can give you the one you’re wearing. They’ll match. Good enough until you can get real ones.”
“Cute. Good call.” I remove a ring with the same family emblem from my right hand and offer it to Sierra.
“With this ring, I thee wed.” She flashes me an uncertain smile and slides the ring onto my left ring finger.
It feels strange to wear it on the wrong hand. My heart beats faster as I mirror the process with her.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Right. Kissing. I swallow thickly. I shouldn’t be surprised by this. I bend down and capture Sierra’s lips with mine. She tastes of brown sugar and innocence. I want to devour her. I cup her delicate head in one tattooed hand, the texture of her curls crisp against my palm. An airy moan, almost inaudible, escapes her. Her soft, sweet lips part for me. I shift forward instinctively, already addicted to her.
Applause breaks out. I break the kiss, pulling away despite the way every nerve is screaming at me to keep touching her. I glare at my siblings, who are both being obnoxious. Lilia jumps up and down, her blond hair bouncing around her slim shoulders, and a huge smile on her face. Rion’s shit-eating grin is just fucking irritating.
“Let’s go.” I grab my wife’s hand to lead her away. Sierra’s dazed expression and her hard, pebbled nipples visible beneath the too-tight dress send a lightning strike of desire straight to my cock.
“Wait. You need to sign the certificate,” says our officiant. “And you’ll want your photographs, too.”
“Gotta prove toMamushkathat you sealed the deal. Congrats, baby brother, you did it. You won the marriage competition.” Rion claps me on the shoulder. “Now you just have to fulfill the next part. Is your fake bride going to go along with that, too?”
My dick surges to painful hardness at the thought of my child in Sierra’s sexy belly. I sidestep my brother’s attempt to goad me by asking, “You aren’t even trying. Why not?”
I glare at him suspiciously. Before Rion can answer, though, Sierra peers up at me and says, “What next part?”
6
SIERRA