"You knoooooooow, I dun fink I wus even drinkin tha' mush," Reba Hart was roaring with merriment, as Brock was unbuckling the shoes off her feet and throwing them off to the side. The lights were dimmed low and outside their window, the bright lights and cacophonous sounds of Las Vegas, Nevada continued on so that it was hard to tell whether it was night or morning.
"Got that right, babe," Brock proudly slurred, his hands firmly moving up her thighs until he had crawled up right on top of her. She was giggling as her fingernails slipped under the shirt and dug into his back, pulling him closer to her body.
"Where di my jeeeans go?" She fell back into the mattress, laughing because she had no idea where her jeans had gone, and forcefully pulling Brock down with her by the neck.
"I'm so glad we're together now," Brock joined in on the drunken party for two, unzipping his own jeans with mild difficulty.
"And it wus soo easy!" Reba's voice became a high pitched screech, the stench of alcohol seemingly making them even more intoxicated.
"To my new bride!" His lips pressed down against her, his arms slipping around her waist.
Bride? Vegas? Reba's blue eyes opened in shock. This could not have happened again. She felt the heavy weight of his body all too well and her headache seemed to dull as he reacted to her sudden act. The ring on her finger seemed to burn.
"Honey, what's wrong?"She pushed him off of her and was mad that he just laid there next to her with a dumb expression.
"What's wrong? After all this talk of change, you take me back here to take advantage of me? What the hell is wrong with you!" She could feel his arm still holding on to her wrist and to conclude her speech, she pushed his heavy arm off of her.
"What's wrong, babe?" Brock jolted awake when he felt his arm being shoved aside forcefully as his blue eyes caught Reba's face contorted in disgust. He ran his hands up and down her arm, rubbing her on the back when her own eyes opened.
"Oh thank God that was just a dream!" She exclaimed quietly, a tiny smile sneaking on her face, as she propelled herself forward toward Brock, who was slightly elevated by his elbows, to give him a kiss.
"Whatever you say," Brock confusedly shrugged as returned her another kiss, as his eyes closed down again, ready to fall back to sleep in his three a.m state of mind. He could feel Reba pulling his arm to back where it belonged and his fingers reached to clench the soft cotton of her pajamas and brush them against the warm skin underneath them. He could sense her moving closer toward him, her toes touching his.
"Brock?" Her voice was comprehended a few moments later as he grunted.
"We didn't just get drunk-married, right?" It was a hesitant tone of fear in her voice as he laughed out the hyphenated word she had just used.
"No, sweetheart, we are going to get married in two weeks," He finally answered, "Back home. Now go to sleep, honey. I love you."
As much as he wanted to talk to her twenty four hours a day, sleep was something he was in need of.
She didn't say another word and when she had fallen back to sleep, her dreams were instead filled with more pleasant thoughts.
It was near eleven o'clock when Reba, Brock, and Van had returned from Kyra's concert and treating her to an ice cream dessert. After a supposedly fixed game of Tic-Tac-Toe had decided for Cheyenne to stay in the hotel and watch her two kids and her little brother, Van was more then guilty for leaving his wife alone.
"Van, if this was a trip with just the two of us, I would take you on my idea of Vegas," Brock patted his son-in-law on the back with a knowing smile as Van blankly stared at him.
"Two guys in Vegas?" He breathed out, before pressing his lips together, "I don't think so."
The click of heels on the concrete diverged their attention to Reba, walking toward them in a dark green pantsuit. When she reached the two of them and linked arms with Brock, they could see a pout on her face.
"Kyra insists on going home with her band members," Reba sighed when she walked back to the two men, looking back at the trailer her daughter was getting on, "They did promise to take her home safely."
"They brought her here safely," Brock pointed out, putting her on her lower back.
"Alright, let's go!" Van stuffed his hands in his pant pockets, ready to meet the wrath of a Cheyenne who had earlier shouted at him that 'IT"S NOT OVER!' when the three of them got on the taxi.
The three of them walked down the Strip in silence and when they reached their hotel, Van had bolted into his room as Jake came out of it with a frown on his face. Reba held out her arm and wrapped it around her thirteen-year-old son's shoulders.
"Hey Jake, how was your evening?" Reba approached him delicately, for her youngest son looked cranky.
"She treats me like I'm seven," Jake rolled his eyes, frustrated, as Brock laughed. The three of them drew attention who could only think of what a perfect family they looked. Brock managed entered the card to enter the room, and the three of them entered the hotel room they were staying in. Jake rushed to jump straight unto one of the two beds in the room before the lights had even turned on.
"Well, get some sleep, Jakey, I promise we will have lots of fun tomorrow." Brock sat next to his son on his bed, and it was what Reba saw when she came out of the bathroom. In her faded and ratty bathrobe, she folded her arms and leaned back to observe her fiance being a great father to her children. He had always been. And that was one reason she was so in love with him right now.
Things settled back to normal when they had returned to Houston, as normal as a wedding could make their lives normal. The last minute wedding arrangements and the workout sessions with ex-pro football player were stressful but Reba was numb to it all.
"Mama, believe me" Reba's voice was bubbly, the telephone next to her face, "I feel like I waited seven years for this man."
Brock, whose lap she was on, had to snicker at the literal meaning of her words. She could barely stifle her own laughter when she saw Brock's face.
"You will meet him when you come over and help me," Reba refused to let her parents in on her mystery man; she felt they deserved a big surprise. She was already heading to the receiver when she proclaimed, "I know it, tell Daddy I love him. Bye now!"
She hung up the phone before she rolled her eyes.
"Are you sure Liz got the invitation?" Reba stirred her coffee as she began to make conversation with Brock.
"She hadn't called," Brock shrugged, hiding behind a copy of the newspaper.
"Well call her!" Reba had to look again at the beautiful ring, the Hart family heirloom in all aspects resting on her finger. For once, she appreciated Brock's sassy mother's interference in their life.
"Okay, I'm just really stressed and there you are, being your controlling old self," Brock revealed as Reba incredulously looked at him. His impatience was wearing thin and Reba's temper was getting hotter by observing the look on her face.
"Alright, we don't have to get married so quickly," She leaned back in her chair, glaring at him.
"No, sweetie," Brock sighed, "I want to get married on our wedding day. I'm just saying, I'm just really stressed and talking to my mother isn't the most relaxing thing to do."
"You don't think I'm stressed either? Every day I go to work and then I have to deal with all this shopping. And you can't even help me bring in the bags from the car? I'm taking care of the kids, I'm cooking for y'all!" Reba's voice was toned down as best as she could, as she walked over to the sink. Brock took his cue to follow her, placing one hand on her rear, "And how dare you call me controlling? How do you think-" She suddenly noticed where his hands were in this lecture instead of shielding his head.
"Get your hands off of me." She pushed his wrist as he started to kiss her neck.
"I'm sorry, Reba," Brock's teeth felt cold against her neck and a sound of pleasure emitted from her before she could stop herself, "Please forgive me, I'm just a grouchy old man in love with you."
She kept a straight face, and she took some more time to enjoy the job Brock was working on all over her neck, before she forgave him her way. She whirled herself around to face him and replaced her neck with his her lips.
"You mean grouchy old mo-ron," She corrected him.
"Mmm," He was smiling, until he could hear rapping on the window of their kitchen door, and he groaned as he deepened their kiss for but a second.
When the two of them faced the window, it was Brock who commented first.
"Looks like we couldn't back down if we wanted to, the first of the guests have arrived." He sounded bitter but Reba could only exclaim one name.
"Lori Ann!" The door swung open and her old friend waltzed in with one look at Brock.
"So it's true," That accent made certain it was her all right. She was holding the invitation card in her hands before she decided to read it out loud to double check with her friend, "We cordially invite you to the wedding ceremony of Brock Enroll Hart and Reba Nell Hart."
"Oh Lori Ann, I'm so glad you could make it." Reba hugged her as Lori Ann waved her hand as if dismissing the impossibility of missing Reba's wedding.
"Now I really have a reason to call you Reba Las Vegas." She widened her eyes with a smirk on her face.
"I was only trying to get my man back," Reba placed her hands at her hips, remembering their greeting with each other always involving the time she threw her underwear at Tom Jones during a concert.
"Hey Lori Ann," Brock tried to act civilly. He was that much in love with Reba to do that for her.
"Hello, you manwhore!" Lori Ann congenially smiled at them both as Reba rolled her eyes, wrapping an arm around her friend's waist. It was true to Lori Ann that Brock had been in some sort of relationship with pretty much all of Reba's friends.
Brock's face was stoic.
"I'm going to work." He announced as he kissed Reba on the cheek and without another word to Lori Ann, he stepped outside the house.
"Well, I didn't fly all the way back to Houston for no reason," Lori Ann chuckled, sipping on the mug of coffee Reba handed to her, "Come on, Reba, I've got a wedding to help you plan out."
A/N: Thanks for reading!