More than Distance

28

Elvis launched right into the ceremony without breaking character once. Carla’s eyes met mine, still dancing with amusement, and even though it was all fake and over the top, something inside me stirred.

I’d never once wanted to get married. Never thought I was the type. I’d decided long ago I wasn’t going to tie myself to one person, to open myself up to heartbreak like my father had. Especially if I couldn’t have the one girl I wanted.

With Carla in front of me in a white dress, looking at me with those big brown eyes while a few stray curls fell around her face, a part of me wondered, what if? I allowed myself a short daydream while Elvis rattled on about love. Waking up next to Carla every morning. Sharing our lives and our home. And one day, maybe even having kids. It was impossible, but it was a nice fantasy.

Drag Queen Elvis turned to me. “Do you, Ryan Evans, take Carla Jackson to be your partner on Road Trip Race in sickness and in health, across thousands of miles, as long as you’re both on the show?”

“I do.”

Elvis asked Carla the same questions and then said, “I now pronounce you…partners on Road Trip Race. You may kiss the bride.”

Shit, what? I hadn’t thought this through obviously. Of course there would be a kiss at the end of a fake wedding. I hadn’t kissed Carla since we were teenagers. That had been a disaster, and I was pretty damn sure she wouldn’t want me to kiss her now. But there was no time to hesitate. We needed to get out of the chapel and on to the final destination already.

I took Carla by the waist with one arm and brought her lips to mine. It was supposed to be a quick kiss, just enough for the camera so we could be on our way. But the second our mouths met, six years of longing rushed through me. The dam burst open, and the kiss turned into more.

She didn’t stop me. No, she pulled me closer instead, sliding her arms around my neck, pressing her body against mine. When her tongue touched my own I was lost. My fingers caressed her soft cheek and I couldn’t stop kissing her, didn’t want to stop kissing her. Not now, not ever.

Elvis made an impatient sound and I pulled back, releasing Carla. She looked dazed, her lips full and lush, ready for more. I wanted more too, but as soon as we stopped touching all the reasons this was a bad idea came back to me. s**t, that kiss was going to be aired on TV in a few months and Daniel and everyone else would see it. He was going to murder me. It was one thing to fake being a couple, it was another to practically devour his sister on TV.

No time to stress over that now. I’d deal with it later. Carla tossed her bouquet and I bent down and swept her off her feet, like we’d been instructed to do. She let out a soft cry and grabbed onto my shoulders. Her face was right by mine again, but I couldn’t let myself focus on her pretty lips or we’d never get out of here.

“Sorry, but we need to hurry,” I said, as I carried her out of the chapel room.

She nodded, biting her lip. “You better not drop me.”

“Never.”

We were sent to a table with all different kinds of cake and instructed to feed each other an entire slice. I picked a chocolate cake with purple frosting and Carla picked a vanilla and strawberry one. We grabbed forks, but she hesitated. I lifted a bite of her strawberry cake to her mouth. She opened for me, her eyes never leaving mine. I watched her lips close around the fork, before I slowly slid it out of her mouth. Her tongue wiped away the faint trace of white frosting left on them. I wondered if she could still taste me on her lips. I wondered if her tongue would taste like cake now. I wanted to test the theory.

She fed me next, but I could barely stay still. I was so hard I was uncomfortable, and had to keep subtly adjusting myself. I swallowed the bite and didn’t taste it at all. We had to get out of here before I swept all the cake off that table and pushed her down onto it. I’d wrap her legs around me, thrust into her, and suck cake crumbs off her pouty lips.

I tried to hurry the next bites and Carla sped up too. On the third one, she missed and got frosting all over my face. “Oops.”

Was that on purpose? I scowled and shoved the next bite at her face, getting frosting all over her mouth. She gave a mock gasp and thrust a bite at me, leaving frosting all over my nose. She looked at me and giggled, and soon it became a game of not only how fast we could eat the cake, but who could make the other more messy. I got frosting on her neck, she got it on my jaw. I got it on her cheek, she got it on my forehead.

When we were done, we were both panting and completely covered in sticky, sweet frosting. I wanted to lick every inch of it off her. Her eyes made me suspect she wanted to do the same. Instead, she stuck one frosting-covered finger in her mouth and sucked. Jesus. Was she trying to kill me?

We might have jumped each other right then and there, if not for the man in the pink bowtie. He handed us a card with the final destination for the day: a hotel in the town of Laughlin, Nevada.

We changed quickly, cleaned ourselves up, and returned to the car for the final stretch of today’s journey. Carla drove this time. As the sun set and darkness descended, neither one of us mentioned the kiss or what happened with the cake. But I knew it would come up later. A kiss like that couldn’t be ignored for long… and then I’d have to break her heart a second time.