She had him on the hot seat, and he didn’t like having his ass roasted. Then again, this whole situation was one epic cluster-fuck that was going to take some major hoop-jumping to unravel—if it even could be unraveled. Just how solid was that license? It looked pretty damn authentic, right down to Reverend Elvin’s signature.
Wait. Nothing could be this screwed up. Ithadto be a joke. And if it wasn’t? Vegas did quickie weddings; therefore, they had to do quickie annulments. He and Neve couldn’t be the first couple to find themselves in this pickle jar. Forming a legal union required two consenting adults, and neither of them appeared to be consenting rightnow. Not in the harsh light of day anyway—if it was in fact day. He was swimming in a soup of disorientation.
“Are you going to answer or evade?” Neve challenged.
Here goes nothing.
“First of all, shedidexist. Past, not present.” Neve’s mouth dropped open. “No, she’s not dead. We’re just … done.”
“I didn’t even know youdated.”
“I don’t think ‘dating’ is the right term.” More like fucking, but he’d leave it for Neve to connect the dots of the sleazy truth. Shoving his hair back from his face, he let out an extended exhale. “How about if we get our real clothes on and sit down? Then I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about Chelsea.”
Neve rolled her pretty blue eyes. He might not remember much about the night before, but one thing did stand out: She had been drop-dead gorgeous … and she still looked damn fine. Even after a night of drinking and possible debauchery, with her hair sticking up on one side, leftover makeup on her face, and a robe that hung like a curtain on her frame, she was really pretty.Achinglypretty. Prettier than he’d ever seen her look before. Images of her in front of the fireplace and the murkier ones of her on the street in front of the chapel, in the jewelry store, and inside a casino streaked through his mind. Bits and pieces of what came later, in the suite with his brothers and their girls, were like curls of smoke he couldn’t hold in his hand, but they left a fuzzy warm feeling inside him.
Whathadthey done on those sheets? Shit, wouldn’t he remember if he’d rolled around on them with her—sans clothes? If he’d run his fingers and tongue over her? And why couldn’t he stop imagining touching and tasting her?
Neve returned to her room, shutting the adjoining door after herself, and thank God. Reece needed Neve-less space to get his thoughts in order. He pulled a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from his overnight bag and slid them on. In the bathroom, he looked himself over in the mirror, threw some water on his face, and smoothed his hair.
“Isn’t going to get any better than this right now, dude.”
After brushing the bad taste of champagne and God-knew-what-else from his teeth and tongue, he plucked two cold waters from the honor bar in his room and rapped on Neve’s adjoining door. She immediately yanked it open, and despite their blackout of a night, she looked fresh and smelled even better in a pink T-shirt that said, “I’m the Cat’s Meow,” and jeans that fit her like a glove. She was barefoot, and her hair was brushed off her shoulders in golden waves that made him wonder how soft the strands would feel slipping through his fingers.
He jerked the cap off one of the bottles and thrust it in her general direction. “Hydrate.”
She accepted it, waved him in, and walked toward the now-tidied bed, where she carefully packed those lacy gloves into her travel bag that sat on top of the spread. Tiny white stones sparkled on the back pockets of her jeans, drawing his eye to her luscious round ass.
It’s not luscious, you asshat. Who even says “luscious”?
She plopped on the edge of the mattress, mercifully hiding said ass from his pervy gaze.
Stop. It. Now.
He joined her, leaving plenty of space between them. Before he could launch into his hastily rehearsed speech about Chelsea, Neve turned misty eyes on him. Distress shone in them and nearly gutted him.
“What am I going to tell Leo? He’s been so nice, and then I go and do this.” She waved her free hand between them as if he were a stink she wanted to get rid of.
“It’s probably not real, Neve,” he soothed.
“Even if it’s a big ha-ha, we went along with something I don’t understand!”
He realized in that moment that he was less upset about finding himself married to Neve than he was about screwing up her life and her relationship with Cantrell, despite his dislike for the guy.
“One thing at a time.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “We need to solve last night first. There might not be anything to tell him.” His lame attempt to reassure her failed miserably because her face only drooped more. “Look, I know Cantrell won’t be happy we spent the night together—”
“Naked!”
“He doesn’t have to know that part.”Especially sinceIdon’t remember it.
“Would you stop being so practical … and noble?” she sniffled.
“Let me finish. Like I said, I’ll talk to him man-to-man and explain it was all a mistake and that nothing happened. Hopefully, that’ll be enough to convince him you didn’t cheat on him.”
Pursing her lips, she gave him a sidelong glance. “Is it possible to cheat on someone you haven’t slept with?”
His heart bumped against his chest wall for some unknown reason. “Are you saying you haven’t slept with Cantrell?”
“We never … got around to it.”
