"Mostly. The other part was that I didn't want to follow in my father's footsteps. He worked himself to the bone with not a whole lot to show for it. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life—only that I didn't want to work on the ranch."
"How did he take the news that you wouldn't be working with him?"
"Not very well. We fought right before I left for boot camp. Said all kinds of horrible things to each other. He died a few days before I got back."
Ethan thought back to that time. The pain of losing his dad. The guilt that his disappointment was what had caused the heart attack. The regret that he hadn't been able to tell his dad how much he loved him.
"I’m sorry, Ethan."
He smiled sadly, squeezing her hand. "Not your fault, darlin'. Anyway, yeah, the Marines provided the family I'd always wanted. Brothers. Your brother, especially."
"Tell me about your time together with Sully."
Ethan laughed. "I refuse to tell you everything. Not only do I want to keep your high opinion of me, but your brother would kill me."
"What was he like? I didn't really know him all that well. He was so much older than me, and I was only twelve when he left."
"Your brother was a born leader. We'd been in boot camp together. He was a little older than me, but we’d joined up at the same time. Even then, Sully stood out. Our superiors took notice."
Ethan and Sully had become instant friends, and he'd been so grateful to be assigned to the same duty as Sully. They'd both risen in the ranks, but Sully had risen faster than most. Ethan had wondered at it, but didn't question it too much. Sully was different. It made sense that he'd rise to the top so quickly.
"I'll never forget one assignment we were on. I was up in a tower, overlooking the town. We knew there was an American hostage somewhere, but we weren't certain where he was. Sully had a feeling about one house. There wasn't anything to suggest that he was right. It was just his gut, you know?"
Isabel nodded.
"I zeroed in on that house as the guys stormed in. They found the guy. Alive and well. All hell broke loose after that, but we got the hostage and all our men out safe. It was a successful mission. After that, I swore I'd never question him. I'd follow Sully anywhere he led us."
Isabel's face fell, and he realized what she was thinking. He took her hands in his. "Izz?"
"It's nothing."
"It's not nothing."
"I don't want to talk about it. Let's play a game." She raised her hand, ordering a flight of shots for them both. What was she doing?
"Never have I ever…"
"You've got to be kidding me." Ethan threw his head back with laughter.
"Not even a little bit. Never have I ever kissed a stranger." Isabel looked at him expectantly.
She didn't drink. Unfortunately, he had to.
He threw back a shot, slamming the glass down on the table.
Laughing, she said, "Ok, tell me the story."
"Which one?" He gave her a devilish grin. "Darlin', I was a Marine. And in my younger days, there wasn't a night that went by that I wasn't kissing a stranger."
"So, what you're saying is, you're a man-whore?" Playfully, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side.
"Was. Was a man-whore. I'm a changed man."
"Pshh. Sure you are."
He was. She'd changed him, and he hadn't even realized it. All his wild days were behind him, and he didn't even miss them.
"My turn," he started, pushing a shot closer to her. "Never have I ever worn makeup."
"That's not fair," she said, as she tipped back her shot.
"No one said it had to be fair."
"Ok, then, never have I ever been a Marine."
Laughter bubbled up inside him as he threw back the shot. Putting the glass down on the table, he paused as if he were thinking of a really good one. She quirked her eyebrow, as if waiting patiently for him to come up with something. Oh, he planned to come up with something, all right. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her onto his lap.
"What?" she exclaimed, giggling like she'd had too much to drink. Which she probably had.
Ethan leaned in, licking her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. She trembled and pressed in closer to him. He took her mouth in a kiss that was desperate and hungry, and she met each stroke of his tongue with one of her own. Their passion built, his hands sliding up the back of her shirt to touch her bare skin.
"Ethan—" she whispered. Reality came crashing in when he remembered that they were in a public place. He pulled away and set her back down on the seat beside him, but he didn't let her go. Not entirely. Lifting his hand, he waited until a waitress came by. He ordered more shots. When she returned, he decided to change the game.
"Truth or dare. If you don't answer or do the dare, you drink."
"Ok, hot stuff, let's do it."
"Truth or dare?" he asked, knowing before she answered what she would say.
"Dare."
He grinned.
"I dare you to dance on this table."
Her eyes danced with amusement. Standing, she lifted her shirt up, tying it just below her breasts.
"Need to show a little skin if I'm going to table dance." She waggled her eyebrows, and he laughed. He couldn't remember when he'd had so much fun.
Ethan stood up next to her, holding his hand out for her as she stepped up onto the table. The jukebox was playing a sultry tune, something about being drunk and needing you now.
Seemed that art was reflecting real life. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he needed this woman in his life.
Her hips swayed to the music, her arms lifting above her head. Isabel moved as if she were dancing just for him, and when her eyes met his, he knew he was gone. This plan was backfiring.
The song ended, and he helped her down off the table.
"Damn, darlin'. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"Your turn," she said, and sat next to him at the table.
"Ok, give me your best shot."
"Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
She laughed. She'd known his answer, too. "I dare you to get up on this table and do a striptease."
"What?"
"Quid pro quo, and all that," she laughed.
"I'm not taking my clothes off."
"Then drink up, my friend." Ethan tossed the drink back, slamming it down on the table.
"Nope, you have to drink twice if you refuse a dare."
"You're changing the rules."
"Maybe."
He downed another drink. "Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"Smart choice, darlin'." He thought for a moment. "Tell me how you feel about me."
"Ethan—"
"What's the matter, Isabel? Chicken?"
Isabel glanced down at the drinks, then back at Ethan. She picked up two of the shots, draining them both.
"You are a chicken."
"Nope. Just need to keep up with you," she teased.
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her back onto the dance floor. The music had slowed, and they danced close together. His hands roamed her body, testing the limits to see how far she'd let him take this night between them.
One dance turned into two. Drinks flowed freely. Lights flashed. Music blared. And time seemed to stand still.
When they ambled towards the table, Isabel tilted her face to look at him, two shots in her hand. "I dare you—"
Chapter 10
Jackhammers. Little men with jackhammers were inside her head. She was sure of it. Isabel tried to sit up, but blinding pain shot through her head. Had someone hit her? That had to be it. Why else would her head hurt so badly?
Flashes of whiskey shots pricked her memory.
Damn. She had a hangover. And it was a hangover from hell. Groaning, she pushed herself up in the bed. She gingerly opened one eye, then the other. Yep, it was the nasty hotel room she was sharing with Ethan.
A chill r
an through her, and she pulled the covers up a little more tightly. Wait. Was she—? She glanced down.
A gasp left her before she could stop it. She was naked. Not a stitch of clothing was left on her body. Reality started to crash in, and slowly, she turned her head to find Ethan lying on top of the covers. That was good news. Except he was naked, too. And my oh my, did the man have an amazing body.
What had they done?
She couldn't remember.
Thinking back through the night, she recalled the limo and the bar. The shots and the drinking games. The dancing.
Had they had sex? Why didn't she remember?
Memories assaulted her. Flashes of light. An Elvis impersonator. Ethan's kisses. His hands on her body. Making out in the limousine. Laughing. The feeling that all was right with the world.
But none of it made sense. As carefully as she could, Isabel tried to get out of bed. Glancing around, she realized she couldn't find her clothes.
There! On the lamp shade was her shirt. How had it gotten on the lamp shade?
A shrill ringing tore through the room. Her phone! Oh, damn it! Where was her phone? Ethan was going to wake up and catch her bare ass hanging out if she didn't find it soon.
She bent over, seeing it on the floor next to the bed. When she stood back up, a sexy Southern drawl said, "Now, that's a view I could get used to seeing every day."
With a yelp, Isabel pulled hard on the sheet, tugging it free and wrapping it around her body. The phone continued to ring, and she answered it without looking at the screen. She'd yet to make eye contact with Ethan.
"Hello?" she answered breathlessly.
"Isabel? What's wrong?" Isabel's blood ran cold. She knew the color had drained from her face.
Sully.
Slowly, she turned her head to look at Ethan. He'd had the good sense to at least sit up, so she wasn't getting a view of his gorgeous ass.
Turned out the relief was short-lived when he stood, pulling on his jeans over said gorgeous ass.
"Um, nothing, Sully," she said, emphasizing his name so that Ethan would hear.
Ethan lifted a brow, apparently not at all worried about what her brother was going to do to him when he found out they'd slept together. Well, they had slept together, but she still wasn't sure if they'd actually had sex. If they had, she was certainly upset that she didn't remember it.
"Why are you acting weird and saying my name like that?"
"I'm not. I'm just tired, that's all."
"It's almost noon there. Are you just now getting up?"
"Long couple of days, bro."
Sully snorted. Isabel sank onto the bed, glancing down at her nails and trying to keep her cool. Only, when she looked at her left hand, there was something on it that hadn't been there before.
"Sully, I'm going to have to call you back." She hung up the phone without waiting for his reply, unable to take her eyes off the gaudiest piece of jewelry she'd ever seen.
There on her left hand, on her ring finger, was a ring. A ring with the letter Q and a ruby heart right below it. As in Queen of Hearts. As in Vegas.
She looked up, holding her hand in front of her as she did so. Ethan stood, staring at his own raised hand. Their eyes met across the room.
Standing, then forgetting she had the sheet wrapped around her and having to grab it with one hand, she wobbled over to him, taking his hand in hers and looking at his matching ring. Only his had a K on it with a matching ruby heart. King of Hearts.
"Holy shit! What did we do, Ethan?"
"Well, darlin', it looks like we got hitched."
The phone rang again, and Isabel glanced down at the screen.
"That's my brother again. What are we going to do?"
Ethan shrugged. "Not much we can do right now. I suggest you answer the phone, though, and try not to act like a weirdo while talking to your brother. Otherwise, he'll send a whole team out here to make sure you're safe."
He was right. She knew he was right. She could do this. She could talk to her brother like a normal person.
"Sorry about that, brother," she said, her voice about two octaves higher than usual. Ethan raised his eyebrows, as if saying, That's what you call normal?
"What the hell, Izz? You sound like a chipmunk. Where's Ethan?"
"He's getting a shower." She made a shooing motion at Ethan to leave, so she could lie a little more easily.
"In your room?"
"We only have one room. Zach found us a place, but Ethan didn't want me alone in a room."
Sully grunted.
"You know, you probably need to see someone about all the grunting and growling you've been doing lately."
"Smart-ass," he said, but there was affection in his voice when he said it.
"You know it. What's up?" she asked, finally finding her rhythm now that Ethan wasn't standing there half-naked, wearing a wedding ring. A ring that matched hers.
Nope. Not thinking about that while on the phone with Sully.
"Call me back when Ethan's available. We need to talk. There've been some developments."
"Ok. Give us about half an hour."
"Roger that."
Isabel hung up the phone and looked around for her pants. She found them by the front door. So, she'd taken her jeans off at the front door, along with her panties, and then thrown her top on the lampshade. How much had they drunk last night?
She pulled on her jeans, then grabbed her shirt off the lamp shade, shoving her arms through the holes. She rummaged through the new duffel bag they'd bought for a change of clothes. When Ethan got out of the shower, she wanted to be ready to get in.
The bathroom door opened, and steam billowed out, followed by Ethan, clad only in a tiny hotel towel.
"Would you put some clothes on?" she hissed.
"Why? You've seen it all already," he shot back with a smirk.
"I haven't seen it all. Wait, have I?"
Ethan just stared at her.
"Why don't I remember anything?" Running her fingers through her hair and pacing back and forth, Isabel became even more frustrated that nothing was clear from the night before.
"Maybe because you drank the equivalent of an entire bottle of whiskey last night?"
"Why did you let me drink so much?"
"Why did I let you? Do you hear yourself? As if I could stop you."
Well, that was certainly true. "Do you remember anything?"
Ethan looked uneasy.
"You do!" Isabel cried accusingly.
"Go take a shower. We'll talk over breakfast."
"I think we should—"
Ethan took two large steps, the small towel falling away from around his hips. She immediately met his eyes, trying not to look down. "You have two seconds to get in that shower, or I'll pick up where we left off last night. Do you understand?"
Nodding, she swallowed hard, stepping around him to enter the bathroom. Just before she shut the door, she peeked around the corner, catching a final glimpse of Ethan's very fine ass.
* * * *
Ethan remembered it all. And he wasn't sure that Isabel wouldn't kill him when he told her the truth. He'd been drunk, yes. That's why everything had seemed like such a great idea. But he hadn't been so drunk that he’d forgotten about it this morning.
Isabel had looked up at him with those piercing blue eyes, love and affection staring him in the face. She'd dared him, with two shots of whiskey in her hand, fully expecting him to refuse.
"I dare you to marry me in a Vegas wedding chapel." Mischief had filled her eyes. "With an Elvis impersonator." She'd held his gaze, then handed him the first shot. The look on her face when he'd agreed was priceless.
At first, she'd been shocked. Then she'd thrown her head back with laughter, taking his hand as she'd run towards the bar's doors and out to the limo.
They'd fallen into the back seat, and she'd crushed her mouth to his. It had been all teeth and tongues and groping hands. They'd nearly torn each other's clothes off before
they'd even reached the chapel, and it was the hottest thing he'd ever experienced.
Fortunately for them, the chapel had had everything they needed. Flowers. Witnesses. Rings. A few hundred bucks, and they’d had a ready-made wedding.
He glanced down at the ring on his finger. Isabel had picked the rings. She'd thought they were hilarious. Smiling at the memory, he knew she probably didn't think they were so funny in the light of day. Made of sterling silver, they weren't expensive, so they hadn't cost too much, at least. But he would never get tired of looking at this ring and the memories it held.
The whole affair had taken less than an hour. Laughter had been the music of the night—that tinkling sound Isabel made that made Ethan warm inside. She'd been so happy. He hoped she would be again. Wished she'd remember every moment like he did.
Ethan had to believe, that on some level at least, she'd known what she was doing and wanted to be married to him. Because, damn it, he was certainly enjoying the thought of her being his wife.
Sully was going to have a fit. Ethan knew that. But he hoped that in time, Sully would realize that he loved his sister. That he'd give his life to protect her. He'd been denying it for too long.
He loved Isabel. Heart, mind, body, and soul. Now, if only she would realize that she loved him, too.
Chapter 11
The diner next door had seen better days. It seemed there was a theme to these small towns outside the thriving metropolis of Las Vegas. Much like that of their hotel, the décor was outdated and run-down, but hopefully the coffee was hot and strong.
Isabel ordered coffee and a bagel, figuring they couldn't screw that up, right? Ethan ordered coffee, bacon, and eggs, and they sat there looking out the window, neither of them saying anything.
Finally, Isabel broke the silence. "I'm sorry."
Ethan jerked his gaze to hers. "What are you sorry for?"
"This mess we're in. You didn't sign up for this, Ethan. And now you're married! We're married."
"Izz, we'll figure it out."
"Did we even check to make sure it was legal? Maybe it wasn't—"
Ethan pulled something out of his back pocket. "I found this in the pocket of my jeans."
He laid the paper on the table. It was the marriage certificate for Isabel Castle and Ethan Brooks. Yep, it was legal, all right.
Castle Investigations Box Set Page 57