by Magan Vernon
“Good to see ya, Angel,” I said, leaning over and kissing her cheek.
She introduced me to the girls with her, whose names I could barely recall because they all kind of looked the same.
One of the girls pursed her lips as I sat down on a small, really uncomfortable black couch with my shadow taking the spot next to me. “Who’s your friend, Clay?”
“Christy and I’m not his friend. We’re kind of co-workers,” she said, holding her hand out to the girl who shook it limply.
“Are you in the military too?” Angel asked politely, taking a tiny sip of her drink.
Christy shook her head. “No, he works on my dad’s ranch.”
Angel laughed. “Didn’t see you for much of a rancher, Clay, or with a Mohawk. I guess things change when you leave the Middle East.”
“Yeah, they do,” I muttered, signaling for a waitress. I would need something if I had to put up with this shit all night.
“Are you okay, Christy?” Angel asked after the waitress walked away.
“Yeah, just a little bit of a headache. Long day and with the time change, just trying to catch up with everything,” Christy said, rubbing her temples.
“Need me to take you back to your room?” I asked, giving myself a flicker of hope that I could take her back and maybe get the hell away from this club. Christy was right; techno music and a bunch of people grinding against each other weren’t my thing.
Christy shook her head. “No. I’m fine. I just need some ibuprofen or something.”
“I have a bottle in my purse, if you need it,” Angel said, shoving her leather bag at the whining girl next to me.
“Thanks,” Christy said, pursing her lips and rifling through the bag, which I thought was some kind of a no-no with girls.
She pulled out a small bottle as the waitress came with our drinks. I tipped her, then noticed Angel and her friends had already started their own conversation. Not what I had in mind when I agreed to meet up with her.
“Here, if I have to put up with your shit all night, give me two of those as well,” I said, grabbing the bottle from Christy and popping two of the pills in my mouth, then chasing it with my beer.
Christy demurely took her pills and a sip of whatever fruity drink she’d ordered.
The group of girls across from us were laughing, but Angel turned toward us with her eyes wide. “You guys didn’t just take those pills from the white bottle with the label, did you?”
“Um, you told me there was ibuprofen in your purse, and that’s what this says,” Christy said, squinting as she held up the bottle.
Angel grabbed her purse and the bottle. “No, the red bottle with Advil written on it in Sharpie is my ibuprofen. This is my X.”
“WHAT?” I barked, almost spitting out my beer as every hair on my body stood on end. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“Where else would I put it when I travel? No one checks these bottles through TSA.” Angel blinked slowly as if I just asked the dumbest question ever.
“I just did drugs!” Christy stared wide-eyed at Angel and me.
Not only did I just do X accidentally, but I did it with my boss’s daughter, who I was pretty sure had never touched anything harder than beer in her life. There was no way I was letting this girl out of my sight now. Who knew what the hell kind of trouble she’d get into and what that would mean for my job.
“Wanna head up to our rooms and sleep it off?” I asked, taking Christy’s hand and ignoring the tingle sliding through my body. Definitely from the X and not from holding her fingers.
“I wanna dance ... Think we can sweat it off?” she asked, nibbling on that bottom lip and looking at the dance floor.
The last thing I wanted to do was sweat and move against these other people in the club, but I figured the X would soon take over and I’d no longer be able to reason with anything. Better to have Christy in my sight for that, and sooner or later, I might not actually mind the dancing. And maybe if Christy kept her mouth shut, I could enjoy her company too.
Better than hanging out with Angel who was ignoring me anyway and stupid enough to bring X in an Advil bottle.
“If I say no, are you going to just let yourself get groped by some random club boys?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. A sense of possessiveness took over, and my stomach roiled.
She shrugged, a wicked smile crossing her lips. “Dance with me, and I guess we’ll find out.”
I rolled my eyes, then finished the rest of my beer before standing up and pulling her with me. “Fuck it. What’s the worst that could happen if we have one dance?”
Chapter 2
Christy
I didn’t want to admit I was attracted to Clay Carrington.
The fact I’d seen the man’s tattooed and pierced member, winking at me like a one-eyed monster when I was in his room, should have had me running for my life. But now I was pressed against him in a dance club in Vegas, feeling the full effects of whatever drugs I accidentally ingested taking hold of me.
My body was floating. Swimming through the air like he was the buoy in the sea I needed to save my life.
“You know, I never wanted to work at the ranch or come back to Friendship,” I blurted, moving my hips against his to the beat of the music. For a Mohawked stoner, the guy could move.
“What?” he yelled over the music.
“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head.
His rough hands moved to my hips, and his lips were on my ear, sending a chill throughout my body. “No, you said something. Are you feeling okay? Do you need me to take you to your room?”
“No. I want to stay here. To forget about the room my dad paid for. He probably sent me here so I could meet some cowboy and get married.”
“I’m sure we can arrange for that rodeo guy to meet you back at the room. The one at the belt buckle table who was staring at your tits,” he said, his laughter rumbling from his hard chest onto mine.
My body was already buzzing with electricity, but each little touch had every nerve standing on end and shooting right to my core, blossoming in a spool of energy.
“Dad might like that. I swear they only wanted me to go to UT to get my MRS degree and marry a man who could take over the ranch,” I said, everything coming out like word vomit. I didn’t have that much to drink, but the world was a fuzzy, glittery, yet beautiful mess.
And damn, did Clay look good under black light. Was his Mohawk glowing?
“You should just marry me. I know the ranch better than any random guy you’d meet at UT. And I think I’d count as a Mohawk cowboy,” he said. His arms wrapped tighter around my waist, my nerves now all completely zinging and singing and whatever else was going on that had my girl parts dancing.
Maybe it was the drugs talking or maybe I was finally giving in to my feelings for him. “Well, we are in Vegas. I’m sure we can find a twenty-four-hour chapel somewhere.”
He raised an eyebrow, those deep green eyes meeting mine. “Don’t say things unless you mean them, sweetheart. Because if you’re offering, I’d be willing to take you up on it as long as we get a honeymoon.”
Chapter 3
Clay
MY FIRST NIGHT IN VEGAS was a trip, and that was an understatement. An understatement I couldn’t remember and that included the brunette in my bed.
That is, until my pounding headache had me getting up for a glass of water, and I saw the marriage license on the ground.
The words Clay Carrington and Christy Quinn and Holy Matrimony staring me in the face.
I came to Vegas to get away, and the owner’s bratty daughter wanted to come with. I didn’t even like the girl, let alone want to marry her.
I guess things that happened in Vegas had a way of following you home, and I was in some deep shit.
“Whoever is in bed next to me better have their clothes on and out of here before I open my eyes.” Christy’s scratchy voice practically ripped through me, and I tried to control the chill of fear and excitement.
“Sweeth
eart, I think you’re in my bed,” I said, searching for my boxers in the rumpled mess of sheets.
Her eyes popped open, and she sat straight up, pawing to cover her chest with the comforter, where her eyes stayed instead of looking at my naked ass. “What the hell? Is this because of those drugs? You know I wouldn’t do this with you on purpose, ew.”
“You know you don’t need to cover yourself. Obviously, I saw plenty of you last night, and this happened,” I said, tossing the marriage license toward her, letting it float down to the mess of covers.
She snatched the paper, her brown eyes scanning the document before her mouth flew open. “Holy. Shit. This can’t be real.”
“What? You think we went to some cheesy souvenir shop and got one as a joke to freak your dad out?” I asked, finally finding my boxers and jeans and sliding them on.
“It could be. What the hell kind of real place has a name like Chapel of the Stars, anyway?” she said with a huff.
Spotting her dress on the floor, I tried not to stare at the little black pair of panties beside it and imagine exactly what I would have done to her to get her out of those. Of course, I couldn’t remember shit, and that was a haze I couldn’t deal with right now.
“You do know there’s a Chapel of the Stars in Friendship, right? It’s one of those open-air places out near FM6.” I tossed the clothes in her direction, trying not to stare or let her see that I was already at half-mast.
“Ugh!” She groaned, catching the heap of silk and lace. “You expect me to put these back on? They were just on the dirty floor.”
“I may be your husband by accident, but that doesn’t make me your slave,” I growled, picking my shirt up off the ground and slipping it on over my head. Then I grabbed my wallet and phone from the end table.
“What are you doing?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I need coffee and possibly something greasy to cure this epic hangover before I have to deal with you and whatever the hell we got ourselves into. You can call your mom or one of your friends to whine or whatever the hell else you need to do while I’m gone,” I said, heading toward the door and ignoring the nagging pull at my chest to stay with her.
“Can you get me a soy macchiato while you’re out, husband?” she said with disdain dripping from her words.
I smirked over my shoulder. “Sure, wifey. I’ll get right on that.”
I SAT AT THE COFFEE shop, scrolling through the pictures on my phone with one hand and gripping my warm Styrofoam cup with the other.
I wasn’t a big picture-taker, especially not selfies, but my phone was full of them. All these damn duck face poses with my face smashed against Christy’s. They all started to look the same after a while, and the only thing I noticed was the background slowly changing. Then pictures with Christy grinning and holding up her left hand with a rainbow-colored stone on her finger, making it look like a tiny doll’s hand compared to the big rock.
“Shit,” I muttered, taking the last big gulp of my drink, ignoring the way every hair on my body stood on end. “This must be a prank.”
I closed out of my photos app and opened my texting one. Then I scrolled to Angel’s name.
Me: Hey, that X really fucked me up last night. I don’t remember anything. Hopefully, I didn’t say anything stupid.
Angel: Wouldn’t know. You left me at the club to go dance with that chick you said you were annoyed with.
I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes. I’d had some significant fuckups in my life, but if I really married my boss’s daughter in Vegas, this had to be the biggest.
I opened my eyes, stood, and threw away my cup before heading back to my room.
Echoes of conversation could be heard before I even opened the door. I hoped Christy wasn’t arguing with the hotel cleaning staff.
I held my breath and silently prayed I wouldn’t have to dig into my wallet and give a poor woman a big tip to go away.
Instead of seeing any of that, I walked in to see Christy, now dressed in jeans and a tank top, pacing back and forth with her phone to her ear.
Then with an exasperated sigh, she put the phone down on the nightstand before plopping on the bed.
“Everything okay?” I asked, tentatively approaching the bed. The one I was pretty sure we consummated our marriage on.
She opened one eye, looking up at me. “I just called one of my sorority sisters from college. She said she didn’t do family law or know much about this, but our best bet was to go down to the county courthouse to file for a divorce or annulment. Whichever they’ll accept.”
She slowly stood and put on her shoes. “Are you coming? I’ll put in for the Lyft.”
What choice did I have? I couldn’t be married to Christy. For one, I wasn’t even sure I liked her, and two, her dad would kill me for sure.
“Yeah. Let me just brush my teeth, and then we’ll head down to the courthouse. Again.”
WE STOOD IN FRONT OF the county clerk’s office, looking at the looming, nondescript building.
Despite my outward appearance, I’d never actually been in trouble with the law. The only time I’d ever even been to the courthouse was for a class project in high school.
“This will soon be all over. Let’s just get in there, sign whatever paperwork, and then I guess there’s a waiting period or something, but we can handle that,” Christy said, babbling on and on.
It was in the middle of her constant talking that a thought slammed into my chest like a grenade, and I stopped in the center of the cement steps.
She whirled around from the top step, staring at me wide-eyed. “What are you doing? Why are you just standing there?”
I licked my lips and smiled at the petite, scowling girl looking over at me. “I’m not going in there.”
“What?” she shrieked, causing some people to stare at us before she stomped down the steps until she was in front of me.
“You heard me. I’m not going in. So, do you want to put in for the LYFT back to the hotel or want me to? We’ve got another day at the rodeo, then an early flight tomorrow. Don’t know if you want to change your tickets to Mrs. Carrington. They may upgrade our seats if they know we’re newlyweds,” I said, pulling my phone out and shooting her a wink.
She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head so her glossy dark hair whooshed around her shoulders. “I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to pull here, but it’s not happening. Let’s just get this over with so we can go home and not have to worry about what my dad’s going to say.”
“What? How his daughter is married, and since we didn’t have a prenup, I could easily ask for half of your part of the ranch in our divorce?” I raised an eyebrow in challenge.
I wasn’t that big of an asshole, and even saying the words made bile rise in my throat. But I pushed through it, knowing the reaction I’d get.
“I seriously cannot believe you. I knew you were an asshole, but this ...” She shook her head and then huffed, walking toward the street.
I gripped her waist, pulling her tiny body back to mine, and ignored how perfectly she fit against me. How the thought of that had my heart beating faster than it was just a minute before.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
She squirmed a bit but didn’t budge. “Away from you. I can’t believe you’re trying to pull that crap.”
Quickly, I turned her around and ignored the nagging feeling that tugged at my chest as I used my thumb under her chin to force her eyes to mine. “We were both royally fucked up last night, but I remember talking about the ranch. I remember brief bits of you saying your dad wanted you to marry someone to run it. I’m better than any of those other guys. I know the place like the back of my hand. Maybe this, with us, could give your dad a chance to see that you don’t need a husband, but the one you have would be the best to run the ranch.”
Even as I said the words, it seemed like there was a higher power pulling them from me.
Did I really want to run the place?
Sort of.
It was the only place in Friendship where I felt comfortable. A place where I really knew what I was doing, and everyone stopped second-guessing me.
This could be my chance to show I wasn’t a complete fuckup. To prove I could run the place.
She shook her head as much as she could. “I think you’re out of your mind.”
I smiled, feeling a new warmth spread through me. “Yeah, I know I’m crazy as hell, but I also think this form of crazy could work. We both know a divorce or annulment won’t be quick, so what’s it going to hurt to go back to Friendship and see what happens there? Hell, you might even start to like me.”
“I never said I didn’t like you, but that doesn’t mean I want to be married to you,” she muttered.
“So, you do like me? Well, I’ll be ...” I said with a laugh, ignoring how fast the warmth spread straight to my dick.
She opened her mouth to protest, but I didn’t want to hear it. My mind was made up, so we could stand there all day arguing, or I could do the one thing I knew would get her to shut up.
I cupped her face in my hands and pulled her to me. Crushing my lips to hers, I released all the frustration and heart-pounding adrenaline coursing through me into her awaiting mouth.
People buzzed around us and whispered. But I was lost in her and the little sighs she let out when her tongue danced with mine. Maybe it was stupid to do this. Maybe I really was as mad as everyone said I was.
But when she broke our kiss and pressed her forehead to mine, I knew I was a goner as soon as she opened her mouth again. “You do know this is crazy, right?”
“I like crazy.”
Chapter 4
Christy
“Those things will kill you, you know?”
I stared at Clay, his tattooed biceps flexing as he lit his cigarette.
Standing outside the club, I couldn’t exactly remember when we left, but I knew I needed some air, and he wanted to smoke.
