Married. Wait! What?

by Virginia Nelson

  She couldn’t tell me anything I don’t know, anything I don’t love. “Soph—”

  With an exasperated huff, she stood and planted both fists at her hips. “I won’t be married to you, Harley. I can’t. Andrew…”

  Hearing her use that that son of bitch’s name was enough to make me see red and decide this was the right thing. “Well, we are married.”

  “And I didn’t spend all those years in law school to not get this undone before it causes us both some serious problems.” Her skin blazed under her anger, her passionate words nothing more than a baseless denial.

  I had to cool this down and fast before she stomped out and hopped the first plane back home. We had a lot of things to work through before I could let her walk out. “Soph, I’m not saying we should stay married.” All I had to work with was attraction—hers to me was the only one that mattered. I stood and took both her hands in mine. Touch seemed to work for us as well as words, and I stroked my thumbs over her fingers. “But we have a few days before we have to worry about it, right? If we file in Nevada, we have to come back here to finish it up. So, let’s wait for the trip home and then we can get it done, quick and quiet before Andrew”—I almost choked on his name—“finds out a single detail.”

  “You’re right, but we should head back tomorrow.” There was no conviction in the idea, not in the tone or the body language that had her leaning in, licking her lips, gazing at my mouth.

  “We have flights booked on Wednesday. So…let’s ride this out.” My voice was hoarse, lined with desperation I hoped she didn’t notice.

  After a second, she shook her head and pulled back to her own bubble of space. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

  I shrugged as if she could stop destiny. “Okay. I’ll get a different room.” Not if my life depended on it.

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dumb. I meant no sex. We’ve slept in the same bed a thousand times.”

  I didn’t tell her the secrets she’d told me as she stripped us both naked immediately before she passed out with her head on my shoulder. I also didn’t mention that I knew what tripped her horny switch or the secret she told me would keep her fire stoked for days. But because I didn’t spring forth with my wealth of knowledge didn’t mean I wouldn’t lean hard on those facts to keep her and lover boy apart.

  3

  Sophie

  Oh, God.

  It was worse than I thought. He wanted to be married. To me. He hadn’t said it in actual words, not in more than trying to convince me to wait to leave. But I could see it in his face, in the half-smile that tilted up just a little more on the left than the right, in the hope written in his eyes, and hear it in the way he was humming the wedding march while he showered.

  Oh, God.

  Even without Harley in the room, I could feel him around me, like a vague memory that was trying to work its way free of whatever chains in my mind were holding it back. Just at the far edge, where I couldn’t reach, I could feel there was something I needed to know, and I couldn’t summon it. But damn it all to hell and back again, it felt right.

  Oh, God.

  For a second, I let myself daydream about marriage to Harley. We knew every single thing about each other. No secret had ever been left unexplored. I knew he took two packets of sugar in his coffee although he pretended to like it black because it was more “manly.” I knew he couldn’t tie a tie, no matter how many times I showed him. I knew…everything. Even the stuff I wished I didn’t. And he knew me…better than anyone…and accepted all the things I was and was not…being married to him wouldn’t have been the worst thing. It would have been like…my best friend and me sharing all the big and small moments of our lives. With sex as an added bonus. Epic bonus. The kind of bonus that would probably blow the top of my head off.

  No. No. No. What am I thinking?

  Before I could add another Oh, God to my mantra chant, he came out of the bathroom, with a towel cinched at his waist and a single droplet of water running down his chest, begging me to catch it with my tongue. I stared until it picked up speed and disappeared in the small path of hair leading down his belly. He stopped in the doorway and waited until I brought my gaze back north before he smiled. “You wanna get something to eat?”

  Food. Yes. Even my thoughts relegated themselves to the monosyllabic mutterings of a fool. Instead of voicing those embarrassingly short words, I nodded.

  As he bent to his suitcase, his towel slipped and puddled on the floor. I took a quick look—I was woman enough to admit it might not have been quick—then turned away. “Jesus, Harley.”

  “We’ve seen each other naked. Why go backwards now? We can’t un-see.”

  Law school did not prepared me to argue that particular logic, and I didn’t bother. I didn’t turn around either until he chuckled and I heard the whoosh of fabric up his legs and a zipper’s teeth following that. As I sneaked another look, I decided that bare-chested Harley wasn’t much better than mostly-naked Harley as far as my hormones were concerned. My stomach dropped out on both. I swallowed too late to hold back a mewl—an embarrassing little half-gasp/half-moan—but at least he had the good grace to pretend he didn’t notice. Instead, he pulled a T-shirt from his bag and slipped it over his head. Also, I was woman enough to admit, I thought he should never wear a shirt. It seemed unfair to deprive the world of that beauty.

  Stop!

  “Harley, do you remember last night?”

  I didn’t know why I bothered to ask. I was certain if he remembered, he would have told me—either to gloat or to convince me of whatever diabolical thing he believed fate had blessed us with.

  I waited out a shrug. “Not much.” FBI agents could get by with that sort of thing—lying with his eyes pointed straight into mine—when they looked like Harley and were dealing with the run of the mill criminal. But the fact of the matter was Harley was lying. Now, on top of everything else, I had to figure out why.

  4

  Harley

  The thing I always loved about Sophie was her single-mindedness. I was busy ordering breakfast—one of almost everything on the menu—while she sipped coffee with her hurry-up-so-we-can-hash-this-out look etching brand new lines around her tight mouth and in her forehead.

  As soon as the waitress walked away, Sophie started. “Okay. So when we get back, I’ll file for the annulment. It shouldn’t take long. I have a friend in the clerk’s office who can push it through for us. All you’ll have to do is show up and tell them we never…consummated.”

  I blinked once, then again. “You want me to perjure myself?” I knew she would. Bring on those Academy awards.

  “Well…”

  “You’re an officer of the court, Soph.” I faked shame with half-closed eyes and chewed the inside of my cheek to hide a smile.

  She glanced down into her mug as her finger circled the rim. “I know, but…is it really a lie if we don’t remember it?” She almost looked up. “I mean, I don’t remember, and you’ve already said you don’t remember, so how can we say that anything happened?”

  This was where it turned tricky. I hated misleading her, but I had to. “I remember.” I remembered a lot of things. So…the specific things she thought we did hadn’t happened yet, but if I had anything to say about it, they would.

  And okay. I was an asshole, but I was an asshole with good intentions. I couldn’t let her marry a guy who was probably out banging his secretary as we spoke, who’d probably called Sophie from his other girlfriend’s bed this morning.

  “What do you remember?” Suspicion or maybe disbelief stretched the lines in her forehead.

  “A lot of things, Soph, and that’s not the point. The point is, I can’t go into court and lie. I’m a lawman.”

  She actually chuckled. “Well, aren’t you just the reincarnation of Wyatt Earp this morning, Mr. Lawman?” I expected her to back away, to use her great legal mind to badger me to her way of thinking, but instead, she reached across the table to lay her hand over mine. Ap
parently, she’d resorted to wooing me into it instead. “Harley, in another life, I would love to be married to you.” She leaned in closer, and I got a big whiff of her perfume. Along with her heady words, it was a potent combination, and if she asked me to walk through a glass window right then or throw myself in front a speeding tour bus, I would have done it without a backwards glance. “But I have Andrew now.”

  I pulled my hand back to my side of the table and fiddled with my mug. “I’m well aware of that.”

  “Then you know why we have to do this quickly and quietly.” One head tilt was all it took; well, that and some desperation in her eyes, and I was about to agree until it occurred to me that her motives had nothing to do with undying love and devotion. If she’d stuck with love of any variety, I would have told her the truth, but she didn’t. She latched onto something less emotion-based and more monetary. And I couldn’t possibly have cared any less about rich boy's expenditures on a wedding that shouldn’t happen. “The invitations have gone out and the deposits have all been paid.”

  This wasn’t the newsflash she made it out to be. I’d been with her through it all—from registering for gifts to picking out centerpieces and ordering invitations. That was what the Man of Honor did. He stood by his bride. But shouldn’t he also do whatever it takes to show her that she deserves better than a groom who’s skirting around behind her back? And if she happened to choose the Man of Honor in place of the piece of shit whose name was on the envelopes alongside hers, then the ending would have made fairy tale writers around the globe shine with pride. That was just my opinion, though. Even as in tune to her life as I was, I didn’t know how Sophie was going to feel about it.

  If I’d really thought marrying Andrew was what she truly wanted, I would have sat back, shut up, walked into that church to stand beside her, and lied my face off. To be honest, I’d never asked that specific question. I didn’t need to.

  And I was a liar. Even if my life came to depend on it, I couldn’t let her marry him, not knowing she was in for a lifetime of heartache. “Sophie.” As I was about to tell her, had the words organized in my head, the waitress dropped off my food and spent a couple extra seconds lingering by the table, smiling at me.

  Sophie laid her hand—yeah, the one with the ring on it—over mine again. “Thanks. We’re good now.”

  The waitress nodded and walked away as Sophie slid her palm along the table, keeping contact for about three extra seconds then picked up her fork. The lingering touch…I didn’t know if I was reading so much into it because it was what I wanted it to be or because maybe she was jealous. Either way, I was going to play this out. To the end.

  “Some people.” She huffed the steam away from her coffee as she took a sip then shook her head. “You were saying?”

  I shoveled in a bite of eggs and chewed as if I was putting a lot of thought into my words, but in truth, I wasn’t. The simple facts were easy. Fact: Andrew, left unchecked, would hurt her. I would never do anything to break her heart. Fact: Andrew didn’t care if she was happy. I would have sold my soul to make sure she smiled every minute of every day. Fact: he wasn’t getting her. And if I lost her for my lies, at least I would know I saved her from him.

  “Soph, I can’t go into court and say something that isn’t true.”

  She nodded and added a shrug. “Okay. It felt sketchy to me, too. I’ll just have to work out something else.”

  5

  Sophie

  I was at the biggest adult playground in the world with my best friend by my side, and I was just to the left side of miserable. I didn’t understand it. We came here to pull Harley through his breakup—which he seemed to have sailed through on a drunken wind that I might have encouraged—and I was the one who was confused.

  When I woke up next to him, I was furious—okay, horny—but now, I wondered if being married to Harley would be so bad. He was my best friend, and there was a lot of good press about marriages between best friends. And he didn’t take life too seriously, but he also respected the value of it.

  And the way he looked at the little things—if he couldn’t wear a baseball cap, he didn’t need to go; if he couldn’t afford it, he didn’t need it; life was what it was—refreshed me when I found myself stuck in the black and white world of contract law. Plus, the fact that he got to carry a gun, looked like a fashion model even when he was in jeans and the aforementioned baseball cap, not to mention his great ass, all made me hotter than I should have ever been around a best friend.

  No. Lord, this had to stop. Andrew was my guy. My mostly sweet guy when we managed to snag a minute together. He was smarter than anyone I’d ever known. And we were getting married. And I’d bet my future on the fact that after a few years, I would be able to get him to come around to the idea of having kids.

  A few years…

  Didn’t matter. I was engaged to Andrew. Period.

  You’re married to Harley. My brain was a traitor, and I firmly intended to ignore the little sarcastic jabs it took at me.

  “What’s going on up there?” Harley tapped my temple with his finger as we strolled into the Forum Shops.

  I waved him off. “Just trying to remember who I still need to buy gifts for.” I didn’t count this as a lie even though I was all too aware he was the only one I hadn’t bought for yet, but I couldn’t very well tell him what was going on in my head. Not while I was wearing a rock big enough to sink the Titanic that he put on my finger. This thought led me to wondering what I did with the ring Andrew gave me. I stopped walking, trying to remember where I might have put it. My mind flashed on water…a fountain. I used it to make a wish. Shit.

  “Harley, I threw my ring in a fountain.” He held my hand up, and I jerked away. “Not that one. The one Andrew gave me. My real one.”

  “Oh.” Something flashed across his face. Memory? Guilt? It didn’t matter. I couldn’t very well go home without that ring. It belonged to Andrew’s grandmother, a family heirloom. His mother had scowled when he slipped it on my finger.

  “I have to find it.” Instead of a leisurely stroll down the strip, I weaved us through the crowd toward the Bellagio. When we were standing in front of the small lake of water, hopelessness shot through me. It wasn’t as if I could just hike up my pant legs and wade on in. But what choice did I have? Andrew’s grandmother’s ring was in there. I was sure of it.

  I kicked off my shoes and my rolled my jeans up over my calves. Harley put a hand on my shoulder as I lifted my foot to take my first illegal step. “I have it. It’s at the hotel.”

  Relief washed over me. “Oh, thank God.” And it’s that relief which had me on my tiptoes, angling my lips against his, then shucking his baseball cap to thread my fingers in his hair. And clinging to him as if my life depended on never letting him go. When my heartbeat was no longer my own, but a fast thrum of desire, I pulled away and took a full step back. “Wow. I’m sorry. I was just so…”

  He picked up his hat and stuffed it in place. “I know. Let’s go.” The bite to each word told me what the short sentences didn’t. As did the way he didn’t wait for me but blended in with the crowd walking away. Who could blame him? One minute I was telling Harley how Andrew Buckingham was the man for me, and the next I was on Harley like a fake designer suit.

  I caught up and pulled him to a stop. People jostled us, but I didn’t care about a couple bruised shoulders. I cared about him. “I’m sorry, Harls. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry you were thinking at all.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and adjusted the damned hat again before he smiled. “Our first fight as a married couple.”

  He was so laid back about every single thing, I almost expected to look around him and find a recliner attached to his spine. But I grinned anyway. “Fight? If that’s your idea of a fight, I’m going to win an awful lot in this marriage.” His eyes softened into molten chocolate, and I realized my mistake. “Harley…”

  Still his happy self, he
slipped his arm around my waist and guided me forward. “Come on. Let’s go find a pool and jump in.”

  6

  Harley

  What was I thinking? The last thing I needed was to see Sophie in a bikini…with water dripping off the slopes of her body…to pool in the smooth valleys. But now that we were there, the pool would actually have to explode and shoot me off into space before I would move. We’d frolicked like kids, swam a couple laps from end to end of the pool, and now we were laying on a two-person raft sipping fruity girly drinks. I blamed the sun for the warmth shooting through me rather than her hip rubbing against mine with each kick of her opposite leg over the side.

  I’d given her Andrew’s ring back, but she hadn’t put it on. She was still wearing the ring I bought for her with my casino winnings. If I’d had to rely on my savings, the one I would have been able to afford wouldn’t have been much bigger than a grain of sand. This one was fit for a queen. What was it they said? Three month’s salary? Well, I went with eighty percent of my winnings, and it was so worth it. It put golden boy’s ring to shame. I would have spent all the money, but even drunk, she’d said no.

  Next to me, she shifted and rolled to her side. “This is the best idea you ever had.” Her voice was a purr that went straight south, and it wouldn’t be long before I was a human sundial if she kept stroking my ribs with her fingernail.

  “What are you doing?” I wasn’t complaining. I just wanted her to be very sure of how this was going to end up.

  “Can I tell you something?” She nuzzled my shoulder with her chin, and I was pretty sure she could do whatever she wanted, and I wasn’t going to bitch about it.