Page 51 of Bossy Bride: Emma and Jesse

He takes my hand and tugs me along, in search of the dressing rooms. “Maybe the captain can marry us on the flight back? That’s a thing, right?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. But we cannot go back to Key West until we’re married! That defeats the whole purpose of the trip.”

“We’ll figure it out. But we have to go. Now! We’re going to miss Christmas Eve dinner!”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - JESSE

When we finally find the dressing rooms again, Emma’s purse is gone and the clock on the wall says it’s now eleven thirty-seven.

There’s no sign of Steve, or Clarence, or Fingers—anywhere.

Emma is pouting about the purse, and the wedding—or lack thereof—and telling me her boots are too small and she can’t run. So I help her wobble her way down to the front desk of the hotel and I’m just about to ask the concierge if I can use their phone to call—someone. I don’t even have the number for the fucking charter service because Miles set that up and all the info was in my little black folder—also now missing—when a woman steps in front of us.

“Emma and Jesse?” she asks.

“Yes?” I say. She’s tall, thin, and wearing a dark blue pantsuit with a name tag that says, ‘Fingers’ Fantasy Weddings. Hello, my name is Jessica.’ I stop and say, “Oh, thank God! We need to get to the airport right now!”

“I hope you brought the Fingermobile,” Emma says. “Because I refuse to run to the airport in these boots!”

“I’m on it,” Jessica says. “Follow me. And yes, Miss Dumas. We have the van ready to take you to the airport.”

“Whew,” I say, glancing at Emma. “We’re gonna make it. And don’t worry. We will be married before we get home, babe. I promise!”

Everyone is staring at us when we walk out to the valet area and head towards the purple van. And then I realize we’re still wearing our pirate clothes. I feel more than a little ridiculous in my puffy shirt, but fuck it. Two seconds later we’re climbing into the back of the van and the crazy world of Treasure Island disappears when Jessica slides the door shut.

I lean back in the couch, still holding Emma’s hand. Then we look at each other and laugh.

“Did that really just happen?” She giggles.

“I think it did. I’m not sure. I was so confused, I barely remember anything.”

“I remember your face when you were swinging towards me on that rope and then went sailing by.”

I laugh. Loudly. “I thought I was gonna die like six times!”

“Only six?”

“Seriously, that was fun though, right?”

“Pretty fuckin’ fun, Mr. Boston! Except—”

“I know.” I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss it. “We’re not married yet. But I’m pretty sure the pilot can marry us on the plane. I really do think that’s a thing.”

“I hope so. Even if we didn’t get married for real on the rollercoaster or the pirate ship, it was a pretty fun morning.”

It actually was.

“I’m sad that we’re going to miss the last wedding though. I think that was the real one that counts. And I wanted the dress.”

“And the cake,” I add. “I’m so hungry right now.”

“I think you just burned like two thousand calories swinging on those ropes.”

We laugh and she sinks into me. I put my arm around her and decide, if this turns out to be the highlight of our wedding day, it’s still pretty up there as far as cool times go.

It takes forever to get over to the airport, even though it’s only a few miles away. And by the time the van stops next to the charter drop I have a feeling it’s after noon.

“Your mom is gonna be pissed at us,” I say.