by Iris Morland
Instead of rolling his eyes, he growled, “Don’t tempt me.”
Well, that answered one part of my question. I was close to asking him if he had his own special butt plug when we arrived at a casino combined with a restaurant that buzzed with activity.
“We’re sobering you up with some food,” he said.
“No! I don’t want to be sober!” I grasped his arm. “Because then I’ll just think about him—”
Liam’s eyes flashed, but it could have been the bright lights overhead making me see things.
“When’s the last time you got this rat-arsed?” he said.
It wasn’t the question I was expecting. “I don’t know—college?”
“Mari—”
“Does it matter? I don’t want to be sober. I want to do fun things and not think for once. Can you do that for me tonight?” I batted my eyelashes. “Please?”
He sighed, but he didn’t talk about getting me sober a second time. Before I knew it, we were drinking and gambling the night away.
When I sat at a slot machine, feeding it quarters like an infinitely hungry Pac-Man, Liam whispered in my ear, “Who is the guy you can’t stop thinking about?”
I pulled the lever. I’d only won a few hundred dollars so far, but I couldn’t remember how much I’d spent. There was an infinite amount of quarters at my disposal, it seemed, so it didn’t matter.
I didn’t win this time. I grabbed some more coins.
“Mari,” said Liam more firmly.
Heat scorched my cheeks, most likely from the amount of alcohol in my system. I tended to get flushed and sweaty when I was drunk. Or maybe it was Liam’s close proximity that made my heart skip a beat and beads of sweat to form on my forehead.
“I don’t know who you mean,” I said in a high-pitched voice. I slammed a quarter into one of the slots. “I don’t like men. At all. They suck.”
Liam leaned against the machine next to me. “You know when you lie, you don’t look people in the eye?”
I swiveled to face him, only to get dizzy. I grabbed onto my seat to keep from toppling over like a drunken doll.
“Are you drunk?” I said to him.
I couldn’t tell. He’d been drinking as much as me, but he wasn’t flushed, or sweaty, or falling out of his chair. It was annoying.
“I’m not sober,” he conceded.
“Can’t you ever answer a question with a straight answer? You hurt my brain.”
“You’re the one avoiding my question.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Who cared if Liam knew? I’d never see him again after Jenna’s wedding, and he was probably too drunk to remember. Or wouldn’t care about remembering the weird chick who’d begged him to hang out with her in a casino.
I said, “My fiancé cheated on me six months ago. Now he’s in a relationship with the chick he cheated on me with. It’s all over Facebook. Her name is Samantha, because she’s a total cliché. Do men never cheat on women with chicks named Susan or Deborah? No, they’re always Brittany or Tiffany or Samantha.”
“Probably because Susan and Deborah are both sixty-five,” said Liam rather gently.
I waved away his logical explanation. “David cheated on me. I don’t want to think about it anymore. So I’m going to win this slot machine and you’re going to stop asking me questions.”
I pulled the lever, but I didn’t win. I sighed.
“You know what I think?” Liam now stood over my shoulder. His breath was hot against my cheek.
I froze. I felt that kiss from last night, and I wished we were back in the hot tub together.
“That fiancé of yours didn’t deserve you. No man with half a brain would cheat on a woman like you.” He pushed my hair aside to bare my neck; his lips traced a line down to my shoulder. “Then again, I’m not sad he cheated on you.”
My spine stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“Because then you’d be off-limits otherwise.” He nipped my neck. “I don’t go after other dudes’ girls. It’s his loss, darling.”
My brain felt sloshy, and my heart felt squishy. I wanted Liam to keep kissing me, even though a tiny voice inside my head whispered, bad idea, bad idea, danger, DANGER. I snuffed out that little voice. I didn’t need to be good girl Mari tonight.
I turned to face Liam. “I want to do something with you,” I blurted.
He smiled. “Anything specific?”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “Yes. Sex. Sexual things. Kinky things. Do you like butt plugs?”
Apparently I spoke so loudly that the people around us heard me. Liam covered my mouth, gasping as he laughed, but he still hadn’t answered yes or no.
“Mari, darling, you’re very drunk—”
“As drunk as you are.”
“Doubtful.” He lowered his voice. “As much as I would love to play with your arse, I think we should start slowly. Don’t you?”
“You sound like a virgin. Don’t you want me, Liam?” I pouted.
He swore under his breath and proceeded to drink his tumbler of whiskey in one gulp.
“God, I’m a fucking cliché,” he muttered. “Come on. We’re winning some money tonight.”
The night passed in a blur of colors and alcohol. We played blackjack, which was the only card game I knew how to play, and I won a few hundred dollars. I then watched Liam play; despite the buzz from the whiskey he was drinking, he was a fierce card player. He ended up walking away with a cool five thousand.
I couldn’t remember how we ended up outside, or how I ended up pressed against the wall with Liam pinning me there. I didn’t think about how it was probably a bad idea that we were making out in public, even if it was dark.
“I want to do bad things to you,” he said, his brogue more noticeable now. “You’re so sweet and innocent.”
“I’m not a virgin.”
“You can not be a virgin and still be innocent.” He hooked my leg over his hip, grinding his erection against my aching pussy. If he kept that up, I’d come right here in some alley in Las Vegas. And strangely enough, I didn’t even care.
“You’re exactly what I didn’t need right now.” Liam kissed me hard. Plunging his tongue inside my mouth, I gasped and squirmed. I needed him to press his cock against my clit. I needed to dry hump him until the itch inside me went away.
I didn’t know where the idea came from. One moment I was kissing Liam, the next he was saying, “Let’s get married.”
What could I say? I was drunk. It sounded like a great idea. And David would hate it. Two birds, one stone: the perfect plan where nothing could possibly go wrong.
Chapter Five
Mari
Present day
On the list of things I thought I’d never do, walking down the aisle arm-in-arm with my secret husband at my best friend’s wedding was not one of them.
“You’re walking too fast,” I hissed at Liam.
“Why are you going so slowly?” he snapped back.
I wanted to lob him over the head with my bouquet, but I couldn’t imagine Jenna and Sam would appreciate a brawl in the middle of their ceremony. I put on a tight smile as Liam and I approached the front of the chapel.
Jenna and Sam had chosen one of those chapels that looks like it was built in the Middle Ages, with vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows, and an actual altar at the front. Since this was Las Vegas, it was actually built only twenty years ago. Behind the chapel was a reception room that boasted everything from a huge parquet dance floor to a stripper pole in the corner, along with plenty of dark corners to drunkenly make out with however many wedding guests you wanted.
After I’d rushed out of my hotel room this morning, I’d finally looked at my phone to see a bunch of texts and missed calls from my sister Dani. Apparently I’d texted her about Liam last night. Great, just great. So much for keeping this a secret.
You need to call me, the last text had read. I’m freaking out. I won’t tell Mom and Dad but if you don’t call me soon I’ll come
down to Vegas myself.
I’d sent my sister a quick text before my hair appointment this morning.
I’m fine. Well, sort of. I’m getting my hair done. I’m safe. Don’t tell anyone, okay? I’m still figuring things out.
Dani had told me to call her as soon as I could. But what could I say? I didn’t know exactly how this had happened to begin with. My memories were a jumbled mess.
Now hours later, the wedding was about to begin. My head still hurt from this morning despite all of the ibuprofen I’d taken. I wanted to attribute it to how tightly the hair stylist had pulled my hair into its current braid-bun concoction.
To add to my discomfort, my dress was heavy green satin but tight through the torso until it fanned out in a mermaid style. I was so tightly bound with Spanx and hosiery I was rather afraid I’d burst out of my dress like the Hulk if I bent over.
A second before Liam and I parted ways, he whispered in my ear, “Your arse looks amazing in that dress.”
I knew he’d said it just to rile me, knowing I couldn’t say anything back. He grinned as he went to stand by Sam and the rest of the groomsmen.
In a tux, Liam was devastating: the white of his dress shirt made his hair seem pitch-black. The way he filled out his coat, the green of his bow tie, the way his collar brushed his jaw—he put the rest of the men to shame. Even Sam, who looked as dapper as I’d ever seen him, couldn’t compete with Liam Gallagher.
“All rise,” said the officiant. Instantly, I was distracted as Jenna walked down the aisle with her father. Tears sprang to my eyes.
I should be married already, I thought, only to remember I was married. Just to the wrong man.
David and I were supposed to have gotten married two months ago. I should’ve been called the unflattering matron of honor at this wedding. David should’ve been sitting on the bride’s side of the chapel, smiling up at me, reminding me of our wedding. How we’d have a life of love and happiness together forever.
That life with David would never happen now. And now I was married to a man I didn’t know. I didn’t know how old he was, or his favorite color, or if he liked cream in his coffee. All the tiny details you’re supposed to know about a person before you marry them.
As if he could read my thoughts, Liam caught my gaze. He didn’t break eye contact throughout the exchange of vows. The sound of them forced more memories into my brain from the night before.
I could almost feel Liam’s hand as he put that ring pop on my finger. I could hear how deep and rough his voice was as he’d said his vows. Except last night we’d chosen the Princess Bride priest impersonator as our officiant. I remembered that now because Liam hadn’t understood why I’d thought it was so hilarious.
Haven’t you ever seen the movie? I’d demanded.
Why would I have watched a movie called The Princess Bride? he’d countered.
The impersonator had done the entire speech like the one in the movie, and I could hear the mispronunciation of marriage in my brain as Jenna and Sam vowed to love and to cherish each other for always.
Mawiage is what bwings us together, todaaaay.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek right then to keep from laughing.
I was so distracted that I nearly jumped out of my skin when the audience started clapping. Sam dipped Jenna over his arm and gave her a loud, smacking kiss.
Soon, I was once again on Liam’s arm.
“What was so funny?” he murmured. “You looked like you were going to lose it.”
“I was not.”
“You really love telling me I’m wrong.”
I scowled up at him and pinched the skin near his bare wrist hard enough that he winced. “Behave yourself tonight. I grew up with crazy parents who owned a flower shop. I know which plants can kill you.”
“Good thing we’re in a desert,” he drawled.
The rest of the evening became a blur. There was a cocktail hour, where I sipped on a martini for the better part of two hours, conscious of how much I’d had to drink last night. My poor liver needed a break.
I also avoided Liam as much as I could. When he started walking toward me on two different occasions, I bolted each time. Once to a nearby table filled with the groom’s grandparents, who all told me I looked cold in my dress and should put on a sweater. The other time I hid behind a waiter, following him almost to the kitchen before he’d asked in confusion what the hell I was doing.
“Mariiiiiiiii!” Jenna slung her arm around my shoulder as she lifted her wineglass to the ceiling. “I’m soooooooo glad you came! I wasn’t sure if you would!”
“Of course I came. Why wouldn’t I?”
Jenna frowned, her bottom lip protruding. Based on the flush in her cheeks and the way her hair was already falling down, she’d had her fair share of cocktails.
“The whole David thing. I didn’t know if you’d want to come to my wedding. If Sam had done that to me—” She shuddered. “I’d be in jail after I murdered him!” She let out a peal of laughter that made me wince.
Jenna was normally more circumspect than this, but alcohol tended to turn her into a combination of overly opinionated and touchy-feely. She caressed my arm like I was a cat.
“I wouldn’t have missed your wedding,” I said sincerely. “Besides, I needed to get out of town.”
“I don’t blame you. I’d never go back after what happened.” Jenna clucked her tongue and patted my cheek. “Poor Mari. I thought you’d be the first of us to get married, but here we are.”
Poor Mari. I’d been hearing that a lot lately.
Poor Mari, her fiancé cheated on her. Poor Mari, her wedding got called off. Poor Mari, she always had her life together, didn’t she? Until now.
I downed the rest of my martini in one gulp.
“Are you avoiding me?” a male voice said over my shoulder.
I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. “Of course I am,” I said. “Who would want to keep looking their biggest mistake in the face?”
“So that’s what you do? Avoid the hard things in life?”
His accent caressed the word hard, and I knew very well he meant himself in more ways than one.
“Hard things only get me into trouble,” I said. “Why go after things that make your life more complicated?”
“Because sometimes the hardest things can bring the most pleasure.”
I could feel the heat of him behind me. If he stepped an inch closer, he’d be pressed against the length of my back. The image of his naked cock this morning flashed in my memory, and my nipples hardened to peaks, the traitors. At least Liam couldn’t see how turned on I was simply from the timbre of his voice.
Liam made me turn toward him, and he smiled as he saw my nipples pressing against the satin of my dress.
“You seem a little wound up, wife. I could always help you with that.”
Right as he said those words, one of the groomsmen passed by us. I held my breath, wondering if he’d heard anything. Based on how enthusiastically he was eating his shrimp cocktail, he hadn’t overheard.
“Will you shut up? Do you want everyone to find out what happened?”
Liam tapped his chin. “What will you give me, if I keep quiet?”
I stared at him in surprise. Was he seriously blackmailing me? I wanted to stab him with a cocktail fork. At this point, I didn’t care if I ruined Jenna’s wedding. Getting hauled out by the police would be the least of my worries.
“I don’t have any money,” I said, because it was true. My savings had been used for my now-canceled wedding. Most of the deposits had been nonrefundable after a certain point as well.
“I don’t need money,” he said coolly.
I lifted my chin. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
“I don’t need to pay for sex.” He sounded almost offended, which mollified me slightly.
But we were quickly interrupted when Laura broke our tête-à-tête to tell us everyone was heading to the reception.
I wanted
to hug her for ending that bizarre conversation. I just hoped Liam had been bluffing, otherwise I was in trouble.
My phone buzzed in my clutch. Slipping away into a mostly deserted hallway, I girded my loins and answered my sister’s call.
“Mari! Oh my God, how could you not call me hours ago?” Dani sounded genuinely upset. I instantly felt guilty.
“I’m sorry. I had to do all this wedding stuff, plus the ceremony itself—”
“I don’t care about Jenna’s wedding. I care about yours. What the hell happened last night? Are you okay?”
I assured her that I was okay and not locked up in some casino dungeon. I went so far as to text her a photo of me in the hallway, no handcuffs or ropes or chains on me. I’d made this metaphorical dungeon on my own.
“You don’t remember the ceremony itself?” said Dani.
I chewed on my bottom lip before remembering that would smudge my lipstick and get it all over my teeth. I might be in a mess, but it didn’t mean I had to look like a mess.
“I’m remembering more and more. I didn’t this morning, but it’s coming back to me in fits and starts.” I sighed deeply. “Honestly, I think I just blocked it from my mind this morning because I was so freaked out.”
I heard a man’s voice on the phone—Dani’s boyfriend, Jacob. Dani said something to him before saying to me, “Jacob says he tried to do some research on Liam Gallagher, but there were way too many in Seattle and the surrounding area. He needs more details.”
“Sorry, I don’t have his social security or birthdate on hand,” I said sarcastically.
“Then you should get both. You need to make sure he isn’t some serial killer.”
“Who gets married to somebody they’re going to murder? That seems like a waste of time. Plus, ‘serial killer’ isn’t going to come up on a background check.”
“At least you’d know something about him. And are we really debating how logical any of this is? You just drunk-married some stranger in Vegas. Logic flew out the window ages ago.”
I sighed. “Look, I don’t think he’s a bad guy—”
