The Two-Night One-Night Wedding Read online

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  The Two-Night One-Night Wedding

  Copyright © 2017 by Ryan Ringbloom

  Cover Design Image by Wicked by Design

  Formatting by JT Formatting

  Editing by HotTreeEditing.com

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  After the End…

  Need to catch up? Go back and see how it started.

  Bonus Content

  Thank you for reading!

  We are all a little weird and life's a little weird,

  and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours,

  we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.

  – Dr. Seuss

  JO ELLEN FROM DEFIANCE, Ohio, has a total of $1,680.

  Frank from Little Rock, Arkansas, has a total of $2,550.

  The illuminated screen underneath my fingertips shows my total is $5,340.

  Alex Trebek announces the final category: the Ming Dynasty. Seriously? That’s a topic I know well. I’ve read books. Watched documentaries.

  I pick up the pen, contemplating how much I’m willing to risk, take a breath, and scribble in my wager. $1.00. That way, I’m covered. Even if Frank bets it all and guesses correctly, he still won’t win.

  The final clue is revealed: The army who wore red scarfs around their heads and led peasant uprisings against the Mongols.

  I know instantly. Who is Hong Jin Jun? But I pick up my pen and neatly write out a completely different question. A life-altering question. One that needs to be asked in the most epic way possible. The pressure to get this perfect has been there for months. And I never thought I’d be able to do it, to pull off a proposal of this magnitude. I look out to the studio audience for Holly, but can’t spot her due to the blinding lights on stage. It doesn’t matter, I know she’s there.

  The buzzer sounds and Alex begins with Jo Ellen, revealing her answer first. Who is Hong Jin Jun? She’s correct, risked it all and now has a total of $3,360. Alex moves on to Frank, who has also guessed correctly and doubles his total to $5100. Frank waits anxiously for my answer to be revealed, hoping I’ve guessed wrong and waged big. In our close proximity, I see sweat begin to form on his forehead, and his foot tapping nervously underneath the podium.

  “Now we turn to Matthew, who has a daily total of $5,340. Let’s see if Matthew has answered correctly.” My screen is revealed, and Alex crinkles his brow while reading my words aloud. “You have written, ‘What is Holly will you marry me?’” He looks off set for a moment and takes a cue from one of the producers, who makes circular motions with his hands to roll with it. “Well folks, this is a little unorthodox, but it seems we have a proposal going on.” The audience roars to life, cheering. Hoots and hollers thunder in the studio. My heart pounds in my chest. I’m doing it. This is it.

  “Holly, are you out there?” Alex addresses the audience. I hold my breath waiting for her to run up on stage, where I will then drop down on my knee and slide the sapphire engagement ring on her finger. She’ll say yes, perhaps even cry. I’ll pull her shaky hand into mine, stand up, and plant a kiss on her so hard it will nearly knock her off her feet. The proposal will go viral. It’ll go down as one of the most romantic proposals in history. Nothing ever seems to go quite perfectly for us, but finally, it will. After all the pressure I’ve put on myself to pull off the perfect proposal, I’ll have done it. And on top of that, I’ll walk away with over five thousand dollars in my pocket, enough to make up for some losses we encountered on a recent trip to Vegas.

  I wait for Holly to run up.

  She doesn’t come.

  I cup my hands over my eyes to block out some of the light, and scan the crowd. I don’t see her. She’s not there. My heart races. My palms sweat. What’s going on?

  Alex looks back over to the producer, who this time slices his neck with a taut hand. “I’m sorry, Matthew, that is incorrect. Let’s see what your wager was,” Alex quickly improvises.

  “No.” I gulp. “No, Alex. Wait. She’s here. Holly!” I shout to the crowd, still searching. “Holly, where are you? Will you marry me? Holly!” What’s happening? Where is she? “Holly! You need to marry me!”

  “I’m sorry, Matthew, the producers have just informed me that Holly’s answer is no, and she has left the studio. In our guidelines, we state that in the event of any rejected proposals, all winnings will be revoked.”

  “What?” I can’t breathe. The walls are closing in. I clutch at my chest for air. My fingers graze the hairs on my exposed chest. Wait—what? Where’s my shirt? I slide my hand down to my pants pocket for the ring I have hidden away. No pants. Just skin. My eyes bulge open, my gaze dropping to my body. I’m naked. Buck naked. And to make matters worse, in my fearful state, I have an egg-in-nest situation going on. Peen shrinkage on national television.

  “Help! Holly! Holly! Where are you? Holly!”

  “Matthew, I’m right here.” A hand grips my shoulder and shakes me. “Matthew, wake up, you’re having a bad dream.”

  My eyes fly open. The room is dark, and I sit up still grasping for breath as the studio disappears and my surroundings come into view. “Holly?”

  “Yes, I’m right here.” She sits up next to me and runs a soothing hand over my back. “You were having a nightmare.”

  “Oh God, it was awful,” I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, recalling the final moments of my dream.

  “What happened? Do you want to tell me about it?” Her voice is calm, instantly relaxing me, and her hand gently cups my face.

  “Jeopardy! You weren’t there,” I try to explain as the nightmare fades and reality sets back in.

  “You were on Jeopardy! and I wasn’t there? Of course I would be there. You know that.”

  The tension in my muscles relaxes. I do
know that. But these past few weeks, the pressure from myself and meddling family members to propose in an over the top, ultra-romantic way has been building, to the point where it’s been seeping into my subconscious and taking over my brain even while I sleep. Stressing like this over the perfect proposal needs to stop.

  I love her. She loves me.

  Our relationship may not be perfect. But Holly is. As long as she says yes, the moment will be perfect.

  “Holly Ann Martin, I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?”

  “Oh my God,” she gasps. “Yes!”

  USING A BLACK Sharpie, I scribble utensils across the sides and top of a brown cardboard box before sealing it up. Matthew hoists the box up effortlessly, leaning over for a quick kiss. I adjust the crooked glasses on his handsome face and give his tight tush a loving smack as he walks away.

  “If it rattles a little, that’s okay. There’s nothing fragile inside,” I yell after him.

  “Got it.” Matthew grabs two more as he exits my apartment, carrying boxes twelve, thirteen, and fourteen down to his car.

  Our decision to move in together could not have worked out any better. Especially after some late-night budget planning where I realized that my dream wedding will cost a few more dollars than I originally expected. And by a few more dollars, I mean a few more thousand. And by a few more thousand, I mean ten thousand. It turns out my big day wishes ain’t cheap.

  Both of us have promising careers, me in PR, Matthew as a physician assistant in the ER at St. Peter’s, but we’re just starting out; our salaries still need some time to build. However, I did the math, and if I take the money in my savings, and figure in the money we’ll save by only having one apartment, and add it to the money my parents have set aside, then we should just about make it. I may have to tweak here and there. I’ve been looking online for different ways to spice up Ramen noodles, and I’m not sure if we actually need cable, but I’m crossing my fingers that maybe my parents have more money set aside than I think.

  My sister said they gave her fifteen thousand for her wedding, but that was eight years ago. Who knows? By now they could have twenty thousand set aside for me, or possibly even more. I was kinda hoping they would have mentioned it already, but next week when we go to Jersey hopefully they’ll bring it up, so I won’t have to ask. Once I know for sure, I’ll have a better idea of the exact amount I have to work with.

  My parents. Jersey. My insides twist into a pretzel at the reminder. Very soon the inevitable is happening. Matthew is going to officially meet my parents. In the year and a half that we’ve been together, I’ve managed to keep visits between them brief and via FaceTime only. He did make a gallant phone call to my father asking permission for my hand (even though he had already proposed), but he’s yet to meet them in the flesh.

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. My parents are… different. Strange. Odd. And I’m not sure if I should warn Matthew or not. My gut is saying no. I think. Or maybe it’s saying look for actors on Craigslist to play my parents until we’re married. Meeting the real-life Peggy and Jack Martin might just send him running, especially if it’s true what they say about men looking to their mother-in-law for a glimpse into the future. But there is one good thing—in my family, our visits tend to be few and far between. Unlike Matthew’s family.

  I kick an empty box over to my linen closet and start loading up my towels. They’re blue, but Matthew’s bathroom is green. Should we paint? Get new towels? Deal with it until we get a house of our own? Tingles run down my spine, prickling me with an overwhelming sense of excitement. It’s all starting to happen. All the things I’ve dreamed of: wedding, house, babies. Right here. Right now. As I pack these towels, it’s all about to begin.

  “You have the next box ready?” Matthew comes up from behind and startles a small yelp out of me. “Everything okay? You looked lost in thought.”

  “I’m fine. Just excited.” I throw my hands around his neck and hoist my legs around his waist. But I’m not that light, and he’s not all that agile, and my body quickly slips down to his thighs. He reaches under my butt to try and catch me, but fails. We crash into the wall then slide down to the floor with a thud.

  “What’s going on?” His voice is a bit strained. I think I elbowed him pretty hard in the ribs as we went down.

  “I’m just thinking about how much I love you and how happy I am and how amazing our life together is going to be.” Still wrapped up in him on the floor, I nuzzle into his neck, and kiss up toward the stubble of his unshaven face, nipping at the whiskers.

  “Holly… wait.” Matthew’s words are halted by my nibbles.

  “We don’t need to wait.” I’m quick to slide my shirt over my head and toss it to the side. “We can do it right here. One last fling in my apartment.” I start pulling towels out of the box I just packed. “We can do it on top of these. Much softer, and it’ll absorb any wet mess.” I emphasize the last two words in my sultry voice, reserved for dirty talk. “You’re such a big, muscular moving man, carrying all those heavy boxes.” I cross over for some role-playing fun. “What do you say, sexy? You want to fuck me right here in the hallway before I move in with my fiancé?” I lower my voice to a whisper. “It’ll be our little secret. He never needs to know.”

  Matthew’s breathing is heavy. He gives me a slight push, trying to urge me up. “Puh-pa-puh,” he pants out. Is he trying to say play, like as in role play? Good, he’s into it.

  “I’m usually a very good girl, but today I’m feeling a bit naughty.” My hand drops down between his legs and grasps him through his jeans. “Oh God, you’re so big. I can’t wait to have this big cock inside me.”

  “Holly… stop…. Pa…”

  “Holly doesn’t want to stop. Holly wants to keep going.” I sit up, reach back, and unclasp my bra.

  “Whoa!” Matthew’s brother rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks. “Oh shit. I didn’t see anything.” He backs up the way he came, disappearing just as fast as he appeared.

  “Patrick!” I scream and cross my arms over my chest, scrambling to get up from my straddled position over Matthew’s crotch. “Oh my God, Matthew. Patrick is here!”

  “I know.” Matthew leans up on his elbows. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. Patrick came over to help us with the move.”

  “Kill me. Somebody please kill me.” I refasten my bra, grab my shirt off the floor, and slip back into it. Goodbye, happy moment. Goodbye, sexy moment. “Holy shit. Do you think he heard us?”

  “No,” Matthew says unconvincingly. “I don’t think so. Probably not.”

  “Oh my God.” I want to die. Too bad I already packed the knives.

  “Kent’s here, too,” Matthew adds, scratching a hand through his tousled brown hair. “They showed up when I was down at the car. Don’t be upset. I didn’t know they were coming to help us out.”

  I return my attention to the towels, this time shoving them into the box rather than placing them in neatly. “I’m not upset. It’s fine. I’ll have to say thank you.” Humiliation still clouds me. “Actually, I already thanked Patrick by showing him my breasts. Maybe when you go down, you can send Kent upstairs so I can show him, too.”

  “Holly, they’re just trying to help.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” I cover my heated face and try to exhale out some of the negativity looming inside of me. I love Matthew. And his family is terrific, practically perfect, especially when you compare them to mine. But they are always around. Always. “I’m just not used to all this family time and helping stuff. We never did the whole Little House on the Prairie family thing like you guys do.”

  “Come here.” Matthew opens his arms up to me and I collapse against his chest. My face is so hot, it’s probably burning a hole right through his shirt. “If you want, I’ll go down and tell Mary and Laura to go home, that we’ve got everything covered.”

  I give a muffled laugh against his firm pec. “So what does that make me, Nellie Oleso
n?”

  “No, it makes me Nellie. I’m the one sending them away.”

  “You’re not Nellie.” My giggle turns to a laugh. “You’re way too sweet to ever be Nellie.”

  “Well then, I’m Percival Dalton.”

  Everything about Matthew is perfection. He is the most adorable, loving, fact-knowing, sexy-ass dork I have ever known. He makes being weird cool.

  “I love you so much for knowing Nellie Oleson’s husband’s first and last names.”

  “Really?” Matthew’s face flushes. “’Cause I kind of hate myself for knowing it.”

  “Stop, you know it’s that nerdtastic charm of yours that helped hook me.” I straighten, giving him a peck on the lips before returning to the box of butchered towels. There’s still so much more that needs to be packed up and moved over to Matthew’s. “I guess they don’t have to go,” I say with a sigh. “We could use the help.”

  “You sure?” He clasps my shoulders and bends down, meeting my eyes.

  “Yes. Besides, the sooner we’re done, the sooner we can get back to, you know.” I lift a brow at him.

  “Ah yes, the sexy moving man and… what was it again? Horrible girl cheating on her fiancé?”

  I bite down on my thumb. “You didn’t like that one?”

  “No. I did not.”

  Oh God. That was awful. What was I thinking? Where does my brain go sometimes? I swear, whenever my hormones are involved, it’s like my brain packs a bag and leaves town. I twist the three-stone engagement ring on my finger, slide it off, pinch it between my fingers and hold it up. “If I were you, I would take this back and run. Do it quickly before it’s too late.” I close my eyes and turn my head away from him dramatically. The ring gets snatched from my fingertips.

  My eyes blink open and my jaw drops. Matthew shoves the ring into his front pocket and shrugs. He reaches down and pulls the towels from the box at my feet, and places them back into my linen closet.

  “Matthew, I know you’re kidding, but I swear, if one of the prongs on my beautiful ring gets caught on your pocket and breaks, I’m probably gonna be featured on an episode of Snapped because I will have to kill you.”