Becoming Mrs. Lockwood

By: K.I. Lynn


First, thank you to anyone who is reading this. It means so much to me.

Deb, you were such a huge pillar, my support and guide on this journey. I can’t thank you enough for all you have done.

Massy, you’re my girl. My wifey and BFF. You’ve been with me from the beginning of my journey, from the very first story. I love you!

Kaylee for being by my side and giving me the strength to publish this.

Raeshelle, you helped to calm me in a time of chaos and I can’t thank you enough for your insight.

Manda . . . you rock.

To my hubby, thanks for not getting pissy when I had a lot of work to do over the holidays and for always being by my side. You’re why I can do what I love, so even though you’ll never read this, know how much I appreciate it.

For my fall break I wanted to go see the Grand Canyon. I wanted to take a helicopter ride to see it from above or a mule ride inside. Instead, my mom convinced me to go to Las Vegas.

She went on and on about all the sights we’d see and the shows we’d go to.

Tourist stuff.

Maybe even drive out to see the Hoover Dam.

We were going to make our way down the strip one casino at a time, starting at Mandalay Bay, and I was excited to see all the lights. After two days, we had yet to make it out of the Mirage’s front door.

Secret Garden? Done by myself. The pool was boring after a few hours of reading and tanning alone.

It’d been “five more minutes” for the last two hours, and I was beyond aggravated.

Bored out of my freaking mind.

It wasn’t the great girls’ getaway I thought it would be. It would’ve been better if my stepdad, Mike, was in my place, and I had just stayed home. Instead, I was being used as an excuse to get drunk and gamble.


Vegas was not for the under twenty-one crowd, at least by myself, and at eighteen, I was a few years shy of being able to do all of the stuff I had little to no interest in doing anyway.

I wanted to visit the aquarium in Mandalay Bay, the wax museum, ride the coaster at New York New York, see the fountains at the Bellagio, and go see a Cirque du Soleil show.

I was really wishing my best friend had been able to come.

Closing out of my Kindle app, I decided to head over to Starbucks for a pick-me-up and a chance to stretch. Checking my phone, I found a new text message. Five more minutes, she said. More like five more hours.

I was stuck in limbo. I should have just abandoned her and gone out on my own, but we were there together, so I resigned myself to wait.

Grabbing a coffee, I found a comfy chair and opened my phone back up to my book.

“You have me curious,” a voice said as I moved to put my earbuds back in.

I blinked and looked up at a man sitting across from me, his blue eyes locked on mine. He had a coffee cup in one hand, his phone in the other. He was handsome. Very handsome. Medium length brown hair, striking blue eyes, and a strong jaw. A slim and fit physique was noticeable under his crisp suit.

And he was talking to me.

“What’s so curious about me?”

Normally, I didn’t stick out in a crowd.

Overall, I was pretty average—at least in a class of over a thousand. I didn’t go out of my way, spending an hour to get ready with full hair and makeup in the morning, all in an attempt to look older. I liked sleep.

I didn’t have the time, nor did I care that much about that stuff. My black hair was long with a slight wave, and the same colored eyelashes framing my sea blue eyes. Ninety percent of the time, I was a jeans and T-shirt girl, or shorts and a tank top. Plain vanilla with no flashy decorations.

“Why that”—he pointed to my phone—“has so much more of your attention than everything out there.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder.

He seemed to think that I was an exception, because I was sitting in a gigantic hotel lobby and I was the only person reading a book instead of gambling in the huge attached casino.

I glanced back down to my book, and the play button my thumb was hovering over and shrugged my shoulders. “Reading and music are good ways to pass the time.”

His fingers stopped typing, and he quirked his brow at me. “You’re in Vegas to pass the time?”