Blake Faulkner had expensive tastes, without really having the wallet to back them up. So when it came time to prepare for his wedding, he rented his tuxedo… but really sprung for the ring. It wasn't even that Blake knew what he was looking for… but he'd scoured the jewelry store for hours, looking at each individually, holding it up to the light until he could finally settle on one, knowing that his future wife would probably be wearing this for the rest of their lives. He wanted something he could be proud of. Something he could point out to his comrades (whenever he made enough here) and say, "Yeah. I bought that for my wife." He wanted something to make others jealous, other men wish they could afford it, and other women wish they had the luck to be matched with him instead.

But in truth, Blake had spent more than his fair share of his monthly income on the damn thing. He wasn't paying rent, that was compliments of The Vow (thank goodness), but he'd paid for it with his application. So really, the joke was on him. All of this to get married. It seemed like more of a hassle than it was worth, really… but as Blake adjusted his tie in front of the mirror in the apartment of which he'd soon move out, he couldn't help but congratulate himself of his excellent judgment in applying for these services.

Sure, perhaps it had taken longer than he'd expected, but he'd, well, expected that. It wasn't like he was any sort of "winner," by literal means or otherwise. He was just a man, pushing fifty, wishing he'd done more with the first half of his life. And now, was his opportunity. He straightened his tie, then, discontent with the look of it, untied it and fastened it again. First impressions were always the most important aspect of any relationship… and Blake prided himself of them. He'd trimmed down the scruff on his face a bit, enough that he looked as though he prided himself on his appearances and actually went out of his way to look nice, though he left enough to cover the lines that were beginning to form on his face. He was getting crows feet, too… no way to hide that without surgical means, and Blake sure as hell wasn't that desperate.

He wondered if she liked the smell of cologne. Perhaps, he thought, he should put on a spritz of the stuff. But cologne wasn't really "him," and the last thing Blake wanted to do was give the impression that she was marrying someone other than who he was. Most days, he came home smelling like sweat. Mostly his, though frequently the sweat from those he trained. Krav Maga was a hands-on sport, and it was inevitable that he was going to get his soaked each day. Coraline would just have to get used to that. He opted not to wear the cologne, took a deep breath, and went to the chapel to wait.

It was like some sort of assembly line. Marriages lining up, patrons who paid a fortune to spend their lives with total strangers just poised and ready to take those first few steps to a future together. And now, Blake was one of them. Dear God, help him. He waited with bated breath, wondering if she would like the things she learned about him. Wondering if she'd read his application thoroughly enough to recognize that he had faults that couldn't be ignored. He wondered if Coraline would despise him when she discovered his inability to contain his anger (though Krav Maga had certainly helped release that aggression). He wondered if he would like her, or if they would simply go through the motions of a shotgun wedding, then spend the next several decades pining over their lost "youth," wondering what could have been if they'd just waited another day or two, maybe another week or two, to find the person with whom they were meant to spend the rest of their lives. It wasn't too late, he reasoned. If he didn't like what he saw, or if she felt the same way, it wasn't too late to call it quits.

But the doors opened, and all other thoughts ceased. It was just Blake, the woman poised at the top of the aisle, and the nervous rapid beating of Blake's heart.

"Act accordingly," Coraline Avery's reflection warned the brunette. Ordinarily these sort of reminders were only really needed on two occasions. Functions with her biological father and being stuck in the same room with her step sister. Two people who get under skin with minimal effort. One would think the twenty five year old have learned some coping mechanisms by now. The truth of the matter was that the two of them both played on the buttons of her insecurities. Her step sister on purpose... Patrick... she never could tell.

Today was not an ordinary day and self doubts didn't need any extra help.

It was Cinco de Mayo and this time last year, Los Angeles native Cori had been laid on on a beach soaking up some much needed sun shine and enjoying a cocktail. Marriage was the absolute last thing on her mind and right about now... she could go for that cocktail. For two and half years she'd planned other peoples events, both corporate and personal and Cori had manned more than a few weddings. She poured through magazines and gone on location and she knew exactly what she wanted of her own. Granted, it was a fantasy, but at least she was prepared if it ever came up. She knew it all, down to the food she wanted people to eat at the reception. The thing that the ever prepared and knowledgeable Cori did not think about was the man she wanted to do it all with.

"Suck it up, Avery," she told the brunette girl staring back at her. Maybe it was the lack of fan fare, Cori didn't have bridesmaids, much less anyone to throw her a bridal shower. She didn't really have time to enjoy or languish in an engagement. No, it was as clinical and unromantic as signing any other contract. "Smile and follow along. It's not that damn hard."

Someone knocked on the door of the bridal, letting her know it was her time. She looped a finger around a drooping curl, willing it to behave. It was the only wedding she was planning on having, and it was going to be perfect. Satisfied, she plucked up her bouquet and the ring she'd picked out and headed out to face the rest of her life.

The Vow offered an option to meet your match before hand, but she'd wanted no part in that. She didn't want the chance to back out and she'd actively avoided trying to figure out what she should expect from a man named Blake Faulkner. This, might have been a mistake however, because the seconds it took the staff to open the door stretched on and into eternity. Enough time to let herself wonder. Enough time to think maybe she could just walk away and not do this.

Too late.

What she wouldn't give for a xanax right now. A practice smile crossed her face as the doors finally opened. Calculating brown eyes sought out the man at the end of the aisle. He was tall, older, close to her father's age she figured as she made her way towards him. Not at all bad to look at, she decided, but chastised herself a moment later. It was those shallow tendencies that got her into trouble with men to begin with.

"Hi," she tilted her head some and looked up at him, searching his face. "You in?"

Blake's first thought was that he needed to take his eyes off of her breasts. But as Coraline made her way down the aisle in a perfectly seasoned strapless dress, he really couldn't be helped. He was only human, and a man at that, and he could hardly be bothered by decorum. He would be married to this woman by the end of the day… probably by the end of the hour… and it wasn't as though he could never view her as a sexual being. If Blake was forced to give up his masculinity for that, there was just no telling where he would end up.

Distraught. That's where. Blake had found himself in more bars in the week leading up to his nuptials than he was willing to admit. He went home with countless women, tumbled between their sheets and felt their nails raking into his back. He tried not to think about the fact that no one had been able to find someone who would spend the rest of their lives with him. Who would be willing to, after all? It was as though those bastards at The Vow, Inc. had read into his mind… his history… and they could read his God damn mind. He was not going to be a good husband. He knew that much about himself. It wouldn't be for lack of trying, but he knew himself and knew how he operated. Now, she was stuck with him.

After the match, however, and Blake's notice of it, the rest happened very quickly. Coraline didn't want to meet him beforehand, something that was notable about his future wife. Maybe, Blake had thought, as he tossed back another scotch and eyed a pretty thing across the bar, she was hideous. Then he would be the one stuck with her, rather than his presumed way, the other way around. But this woman… she was anything but hideous. Woman. If he could even call her that.

The girl could have been his daughter, he considered, as she made her way down towards him, one step after the other. She was youthful, she looked sweet, she seemed to have absolutely no physical flaws. Not that aesthetics were really what mattered here, but it wasn't exactly something Blake was going to push to the wayside. He could feel his lungs expand as his nostrils flared, calming air rushing into them. He held the breath for a moment before he exhaled again, willing himself to remain calm. Remain still. Remain in place.

She was beautiful, young… she had to have a closet filled with too many skeletons to count. That was the only justifiable reason why a woman like Coraline Avery would sign up for a service that would find a husband for her. Really, Blake should have considered this from the beginning. What self-respecting woman signed up for something like this? He wasn't the man who was going to pet her hair at night and tell her she was perfect and beautiful. He wasn't the one who had to reassure her of all of her positive traits, dissuade her that her faults weren't "all that bad." He was a man, not a therapist. As though he was one to talk.

But she was next to him, sooner than he expected her to be, and she studied him. Blake wondered briefly if he should have bitten the bullet and shaved completely. Maybe she despised facial hair… and it would scratch her when he kissed her. Was he in, she asked, and for a moment, Blake didn't know what to say. In? In what? In this for life? For now? In a marriage with a woman he barely knew? His intelligence pleaded for him to keep his mouth shut, but his own personal code of ethics shunned the idea completely. "I'm not entirely sure," he said, admitting it with a tiny smile. "You're too beautiful to be sane." A compliment the best way Blake knew how to bestow them. But he was decided. He cleared his throat, leaned in, lips pressing against her ear. "I'm in."

His attention turned to the man standing in front of him, though Blake felt nerves in ways he'd never felt before. Was he in over his head here? Time would tell. At least, for now, he would tolerate this wedding, ridiculous as it may have seemed to the outside world, and marry a girl too God damn sexy to be interested in him for anything other than one amazing night.

Blake didn't answer right away and her pep talk was waning with every passing second. Cori did not lack for male attention, nor was she oblivious to the way men looked at her. The way Blake looked at her now. She'd had more flings than she could count at this point. The start was always the best part, but getting serious meant expectations and expectations came with a whole lot of disappointments. She'd learned early on that it was just easier to have fun and leave when someone got bored. Typically, the men she spent time with felt the same way. Her keep it casual lifestyle had never really bothered her, up until some of her past flings started settling down. All of a sudden men who didn't understand the point of commitment were finding the love of their lives and it certainly wasn't her.

What the hell was she even doing?

Maybe she should cut and run while she still had the chance? There wasn't a lot keeping her here at the moment. Except maybe the money, though she could earn that back easily enough if she went home, although she didn't really want to go back to L.A. either. Her cushy Beverly Hills house would be just as empty and her friends would be just as she left them. No, there was no going back. She had to see this through, even if she was sure the knots in her stomach couldn't get any bigger. Just when she was pretty sure the knots would end up there permanently, he spoke and she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. He had an accent she couldn't place, but that wasn't even the biggest question on hand. Was he joking? She couldn't tell right away and maybe he was right to question her sanity.

"It's debatable," she told him tilting her head the other way, amusement tugging on her lips. "Depends on what scale you use." She really needed to shut up though, there would be plenty of time to babble when all of this was over with. Blake saved her the effort however when he spoke in her ear. It was two words, but she felt them all the way down to her toes. She nodded slightly, her previous smile becoming a tiny bit wider despite herself.

The officiant began, and she had to give The Vow Inc people credit for dressing up what could easily be done with a Justice of the Peace. It played into the idea of a dream wedding and she supposed that's how their business thrived. It might not be ideal, but she had pretty white dress and that was a start. It was further then she'd ever managed on her own anyway. Slightly slutty Cori got the guy. It might be short lived, but at least it happened. Experimenting with monogamy Cori did not. Not when everyone remembered the old Cori. Not when they moved away before they could give her a chance to figure things out. And what did Cori do in the face of all that stress? She'd unceremoniously spent a nice chunk of her trust fund for some company to tell her she obviously had some daddy issues to work out.

"Wedding rings are made precious by our wearing them. Your rings say that even in your uniqueness you have chosen to be bound together. Let these rings also be a sign that love has substance as well as soul, a present as well as a past, and that, despite its occasional sorrows, love is a circle of happiness, wonder, and delight. May these rings remind you always of the vows you have taken here today."

The vows were simple enough that she could recite them in her sleep. To have, to hold, etc. It was the ring exchange that finally caught her attention. The words bringing her out of the haze and the magnitude of what was happening. She took his hand and nearly dropped the white gold ring before she could get it in position.

"With this ring," she echoed, sliding it onto Blake's finger. "I thee wed."

Blake wasn't entirely sure if Coraline was just… good natured, or if she was serious when she answered his question about her sanity. "It's debatable," she said, and he lifted his eyebrows with something akin to bemusement. "Depends on what scale you use." This was the first conversation he had with the woman who was going to be his wife… and it was about whether or not she was sane. Blake was amused, to say the least. Potential sanity wasn't exactly a topic he wanted to breech right now… especially since many could assume that he wasn't exactly sane himself. Blake felt compelled towards a smile nonetheless… at least this was going to be an interesting marriage.

He'd heard these vows spoken a million times over his forty-five years. Weddings he'd attended (though reluctantly), weddings he'd watched on television or movies… weren't these vows overplayed by now? Blake might have suggested writing their own… had he known her any better. But until this moment, he didn't know her at all. And now what he knew of her was pretty slim. And truthfully, it didn't inspire much confidence. She was either psychopathic… or she had a decent sense of humor and enough issues to push her into marrying a total stranger. Fantastic. She had youth on her side, and beauty (a remarkable combination), so really… she should have had the world at her feet.

It was almost romantic, all of this pomp and circumstance, even though his voice carried little weight as he mindlessly repeated the vows as he was directed. It seemed disingenuous, to merely parrot what someone else was saying, when he was the one who was going to be spending the rest of his life with this woman. This girl. Whatever the hell she was. He sucked in a breath through his nose and exhaled it slowly, a pattern he'd created in the past several minutes, to keep himself present in the moment… and calm. Cinco de Mayo… and what a fucking party this was, to say the least.

Coraline looked almost nervous as she fumbled with the ring she'd brought for him, easing it over his finger. So this was it. This was what he noticed in men his age as he went throughout his day. The bartender, wearing a band around his finger. The guy at the grocery store. The gentleman walking down the street. They all had rings… like his now… all signifying their relationship to one woman, forever. Whether or not their vows carried actual weight was up to them, he was sure, and no one truly knew what happened behind closed doors. But these doors were open, transparent at the moment, and the ring seemed heavy enough.

He reached into his pocket to pull out the ring he'd purchased for her… scarcely able to contain his pride. He'd done well with this… and it seemed fitting for a woman like her. Out of everything else that was almost methodic with this ceremony, at least the ring was something special. He eased it over her ring finger, repeating, "With this ring, I thee wed." What stilted words. Too fucking formal. But he observed the way the ring sparkled on Coraline's finger, and he was suddenly overcome by the strangest sensation: Maybe he was right for her. The ring was ideal for her finger… it looked better on her than he could have imagined it looking on anyway. He let out a breath of a laugh as the man standing before them declared them husband and wife.

Blake was certain the "kiss the bride" act wasn't necessary in a ceremony such as this. It was awkward for most to lock lips with someone they'd only just met. But barring whatever Coraline may have thought about it, Blake wrapped his arms around her small waist pulling her in, his lips pressing into hers. A simple kiss, almost pure and chaste, but enough to say, You are mine, and I am yours.

It took every bit of effort for Cori not to let out an excited Oh. My. God when Blake pulled out her ring, but the smile could not be helped. It might not be exactly what she had in mind for herself, but she could certainly get used to the round and princess cut diamonds now perched on her finger. She wanted to examine it, show it off, enjoy it a little, but all of that would have wait until after the fact. If anything, this was the truly unfair part of this whole arranged marriage thing. As much as she'd avoided thinking about what was going to happen, it was hard to talk herself into accepting whatever ring a stranger would pick out. It could have been anything, really. A flint of a rock, an ugly cluster, a yellow gold setting or simply a band with absolutely no sparkle at all. Girls comparing their rings was like guys comparing their dicks. Cut, clarity, color, carat, it all meant something and what kind of ring you had played into the kind of man you were with. Blake Faulkner might be as old as her father, but at the very least he had good taste and that said enough to satisfy Cori for the moment.

The end of the ceremony came swiftly and simply after that as the officiant declared them to be husband and wife. It was a big thing to say, considering she'd first laid eyes on the man all of twenty minutes ago, but she'd made it through and without an all out panic attack at that. Blake, however, decided to take it a step further and without warning he'd pulled her in for an impromptu kiss. Her hands settled on the side of his neck, her thumbs brushing against the stubble on his cheeks. A five o'clock shadow was one thing, but she'd rather thought a wedding was a good time to take it all off. Despite that, however, she kissed him back. It suited him in a way and really, pretty men got tiresome. Who wanted to compete for bathroom time just to get ready?

"Lets go get a drink," she said taking his hand as they left the chapel. If she was now married to the man, might as well try to get to know him a little, right?