Damage Control

by M. S. Parker

  “What?”

  “We should go talk to him.” She smiled again and took my hand, trying to pull me after her.

  Shaking my head, I remained where I was. “What kind of idiot Justice of the Peace would marry two people who are obviously drunk? Considering how my head feels, I must have been walking into walls.”

  “Not quite.” She gave me a smile of sympathy. “You maintained really well. And as to the JP? You flashed enough money. You do that, most people will bend the rules a little bit, especially for a Congressman's daughter.”

  Groaning, I dropped my face into my hands. “Great. Just great.” I turned into a lush after two days in Las Vegas and had also lost touch with my inner moral compass – bribing a Justice of the Peace? “I’m turning into my parents. Oh, shit. What if I’m turning into my mother?”

  Two

  Kaleb

  “Would you be still?”

  The voice was husky and soft, straight out of a porn flick, and I rolled toward it, seeking out the warmth and scent of a woman. Sexy and sweet, it went straight to my dick, which was already doing its morning salute.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  I was about ready to reach for her when a high-pitched yelp had me jerking up in bed. “What’s–?”

  The wrong got caught in my throat at the sight of her. I don’t think she even heard me anyway. She was too busy wrapping herself in a sheet and gaping at me. After a second, she snapped her jaw shut. I clenched mine so it wouldn’t fall open.

  “Who the hell are you?” She stared at me, her big, dark blue eyes wide and startled.

  “Ah, the name’s Kaleb.”

  “You…you’re Australian. Sydney?”

  “Good ear.” Talk. Act human. Don’t stare at her damn tits. “Most Yanks wouldn’t recognize the difference between somebody from Sydney versus somebody from Perth. Spent much time there?”

  “Um, no. My…family travels a lot. Or they used to.”

  I wasn’t having much luck not staring at those perfect, perky breasts, so I climbed out of bed and looked around. My head was still cloudy, and it hurt like hell. What happened last night? What time was it?

  A thousand sticky thoughts pushed through my head, but I couldn’t untangle them.

  I could do one thing – use the damn bathroom.

  “Fuck,” I muttered.

  I didn't think she heard. She was swearing about something too, but I didn't think it had anything to do with the rubber that was in a rather precarious position on my semi-erect penis.

  Grabbing it, I looked up and caught sight of her staring at me.

  “A dream.” She closed her eyes as she whispered it. “This is all a crazy dream.”

  Not likely. If it was a dream, I would have been balls-deep inside her, not standing there with a bloody headache and a crumpled up condom in my fist.

  I stalked into the bathroom, desperate to get away from the woman for a minute. I had to think.

  I just needed a minute.

  Once I was in the bathroom, I shut the door and leaned back. “What the fuck happened?” I muttered.

  Spying a waste bin, I tossed the rubber into it and tended to business.

  The nagging sense that I’d forgotten something – something important – tugged at my brain as I moved to the sink to wash up, but my mind stayed annoyingly blank, and I finally had to admit that it wouldn’t do any good to just stand in this bathroom while that raven-haired beauty stayed out there, probably getting more and more frustrated.

  As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked hung over and pretty damn shitty. That wouldn’t go over well with the new boss.

  New boss.

  “Fuck.”

  I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist before leaving the room. Clock! Where was a damn clock? The woman, along with another, came through the adjoining suite’s door at the same time.

  I still didn’t see a clock. “What time is it?” I said.

  “We…um…” The girl from the bed looked at her friend, a shorter, cute thing with curls, curves and a wide smile. “We need to talk.”

  “I can’t,” I barked. “I’m going to miss my bus if I haven’t already. What time is it?”

  I couldn’t lose this job. There was too much depending on it.

  Spying my clothes in a tangle on the floor, I grabbed them and almost took them into the bathroom, but for right now, modesty be damned. Without another thought, I dropped the towel and grabbed my jeans, jabbing one foot then the other into the legs as the women gaped at me. Yeah, commando, ladies.

  “Look, you need to slow it down,” she said, giving her friend a desperate look.

  “I can’t, sweetheart.” I grabbed my shirt, and something thudded onto the floor. My phone. When I grabbed it, the screen lit up, showing the time.

  “Dammit! I’ll barely make it.”

  “Wait,” she cried out, cutting in front of me when I would have sat down to put my shoes on.

  She looked as desperate as I felt. Maybe she had a job riding on the next few minutes too.

  I had doubts about that though. The room we were in was the kind I’d expect to see given to a princess – or a queen. That was what she made me think of – royalty, even wearing that robe and a worried expression. It was in the way she carried herself, so haughty and above it all.

  And I didn’t have time to think about how proper she might be. “Anyway, I hate to dash, but I have to go.” I cut around her and sat down, shoving my feet into my shoes. I grabbed my shirt and pulled it on as I stood up.

  She was right there, not two inches away when my head cleared the material.

  “You need to be quiet and listen.” She poked me in the chest with her index finger.

  A gaudy, fake ring glinted up at me.

  “Nice taste in jewelry, love.”

  “I’m so glad you think so,” she said, giving me a sarcastic smile. She held her hand up and waved it back and forth in front of my face. “It’s a damn wedding ring.”

  “Wedding…” I blinked. “Fuck me, are you married?”

  If she was, she needed a better man. One who’d put a real ring on her finger and not that horrible piece of junk.

  She blinked at me, shaking her head. “You’re beautiful, but maybe you’re not too bright,” she said slowly.

  I stiffened instinctively at the insult before reminding myself it didn’t matter what some prima donna American babydoll thought of me. I had enough to deal with anyway.

  “Aw, my feelings are hurt,” I said, forcing out a mock sigh. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. I’ve got a new job I’m starting, and if I’m late, I’m screwed. You can…look, I’m sorry. I was drunk, and I didn’t know you were married. Doubt it will make much difference, but tell your husband I’m sorry.”

  “Fine,” she said to my back. “The man I slept with last night wants me to tell you he’s sorry.”

  I froze. One hand on the door knob, I stared at the pale, gleaming oak and tried to make sense of those words. The man I slept with…

  Slowly, I turned around and stared at her. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

  She had crossed her arms over her chest as stood there, glaring at me, her chin in the air. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”

  No. She looked like she was torn between crying and hitting something. I could sympathize with the feeling.

  “You…” I looked back at the ring, then at her. “Are you telling me…?”

  Her lip curled into a snarl. “We got hitched last night, sweetheart.”

  “That’s not possible,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “That’s what I said. But my friend assures me the wedding did happen. She recorded it. We’ve got a license…somewhere. As to our names…” She came toward me, her right hand outstretched.

  Good, if I had to look at the awful plastic trinket another moment…

  Slowly, I took her hand, staring into those gorgeous eyes.


  “I’m Piety,” she murmured.

  “Kaleb.” Then I laughed, feeling like the entire world had flipped upside down. “Look, I’m sorry, but I…I still have to go. If I lose this job, I’m screwed.”

  Three

  Piety

  I finally convinced him that we’re married, and he’s worried about losing his job.

  I could have rolled my eyes, but then I reminded myself I wasn’t someone who’d ever had to worry about money before. When you didn’t have to do that, it was easy to dismiss things that seemed relatively simple.

  “We have to figure this out,” I said. “I mean, your boss will understand, right?”

  He gave me a tight look and shot another glance at his phone – checking the time. He swore and shoved it into his pocket. “Too late now. The bus leaves in two minutes. I’ll never make it.” A scowl twisted his features and he spun away, swearing under his breath.

  I took a step forward, only to stop myself. I’d been about to comfort him.

  I didn’t even know this guy, and I wanted to make him feel better.

  “How in the hell did this happen?” he demanded, still facing away from us.

  “Well…” Astra laughed a little, as she gave him a nervous look.

  I had a bad feeling we might have just messed up his life even more than mine. Judging by the look she gave me, Astra was thinking the same thing.

  “It’s pretty funny, really. We were all drinking. You were at the bar, and you were cute, so I dragged Piety over to sit down and talk with you. We all got to talking, and we told you about how Piety’s parents are serious control freaks and that they’re pushing her toward this guy who is so fucking lame. He gets excited talking about spreadsheets.” She paused as the stranger – Kaleb, I reminded myself – turned around. “Spreadsheets!”

  “I’m still waiting to hear how talking about spreadsheets got two strangers married.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” I rubbed a hand over my belly because I was still feeling seriously nauseated and my head was spinning. Feeling his eyes on me, I glanced his way and stopped rubbing, reaching up to clutch at the neck of my robe instead. He wasn’t gawking at me or anything, but there was something about the way he watched me that was unsettling at best. “Seriously, I don’t get how I could have thought this was a good idea, drunk or not.”

  “But you did.” Astra grabbed my shoulders and shook me a little. I groaned, batting her hands away.

  “Stop it.” I sat down on the edge of the couch and glanced from him to her. “Explain why I thought this was a good idea.”

  “I did–”

  “Astra.” Giving her a hard look, I waited.

  “Fine.” She huffed out a breath and then gave the hottie from Down Under a brilliant smile. “See, her parents are the most uptight people you’ve ever met, and they are constantly pushing her toward somebody who could be a clone of her dad. In character, not physically, because that could be gross. But he is a stuffed shirt and so uptight. They keep nagging her–”

  Kaleb held up a hand, and Astra went politely quiet. She beamed at him, and he returned the smile, although his was a lot less…excited. “Look, this is all fascinating, and I assume I should know something about my…wife’s family. But none of this is answering anything.”

  “It is,” Astra said emphatically. “Just give me a moment. “See, that’s why we’re here. They were driving her crazy, and after they tried to set her up on some sort of crazy couples thing with this killjoy, we knew we had to get away for a while.”

  “And we came here,” I said, sighing. “Astra, you’re not exactly explaining.” I took a deep breath. “I remember going down to the bar for drinks. Then…nothing until this morning when I opened my eyes and saw this ring. So explain this part of things.”

  “You thought it would be funny.” Astra sighed and moved over to sit beside me. She took my hand and then looked over to Kaleb. “You were on the stool next to us. There was a woman…she was flirting with you and pushing really hard. Piety could tell you weren’t into it, so she told her to lay off.”

  Kaleb shook his head as if trying to shake the memory back into it. “What happened next?”

  “Well, the woman got pissy and asked her what the problem was. Piety said you were her fiancé. You laughed about it. When she got up and stormed off, we asked you to join us.” Astra shrugged. “We got to talking and…well, Piety said it was too bad her dad hadn’t been there. If he’d heard her telling some chick that you two were engaged, even though it was just a joke, he’d have a heart attack. And I told you guys you should do it – marry him. I’d videotape it, and we could upload it to YouTube.”

  I rubbed my forehead, feeling a pounding headache that had nothing to do with alcohol.

  “Why, oh, why would I think this was a good idea?” I muttered.

  “Because we were drunk and stupid, and you were pissed off.” Astra looked over at Kaleb. “You were pissed off about something too. I don’t know what because you wouldn’t say. But you loosened up a bit, and we all got to laughing and having a good time.”

  Kaleb raised an eyebrow. “A good time still doesn't equal getting married.”

  “I…” I grimaced and then looked at Astra before meeting Kaleb’s eyes again. “My dad is a senator. Silas Van Allan from Philadelphia. He’s planning on running for president, and my mom…well, she’s already mentally redecorating the White House. They’ve got ideas for how their lives will be, and they’re doing everything they can to make sure I do everything I can to help expedite his career and improve his image.”

  “Come on, they can’t be all that bad,” he said, crooking a smile at me.

  My belly flipped at the sight of it. A dimple, one that deepened into a wider groove as his smile grew, caused my heart to stutter a few beats. Dimples. That smile. That accent. Well, if I was going to go and marry a stranger, I sure as hell picked a hot one.

  Then my brain locked in on what he said.

  “Oh, they’re worse.” Heaving out a sigh, I looked over toward the window, not seeing anything around me but the life they were trying to force me into. “They hate my job, hate the things I enjoy. Sometimes I think they only had me because they thought about all the photo ops I’d present them with. That and everybody knows that a family man is much more trustworthy.”

  Rolling my eyes, I managed to smile at him.

  “And that’s it. Somehow my shitty mood translated into hey, let’s do something stupid. We’re in Vegas, after all. Right, Kaleb?” I hesitated before asking, “It is Kaleb?”

  He gave me a short nod, still looking distracted. He pulled out his phone again, checked it.

  “Look, this job…I’ll call you a cab, pay for it. We can discuss this again later?” I hated how much he was stressing over this job. And I could tell he was. He’d only checked his phone like…oh, ten times in the past five minutes.

  “No such luck, Piety.” His accent gave my name a sharper sound, but I liked it. His smile was sharp too, full of edges that might cut. “The bus I needed to catch was leaving the city. They’re gone by now.”

  “Oh.” My belly dropped a little more, and I rubbed my temple. “Okay, I’ll find some other way to get you where you need to go. We’ll rent a car or something. Just what is it you do?”

  “I’m with Flames Down Under.” He said it calmly, staring me straight in the face, but there was a daring glint in his eye.

  I couldn’t understand why. That meant nothing to me. “And just what is Flames Down Under?”

  “Oh…oh!” Astra squealed and started to laugh, clapping. “This is perfect. Piety, it’s perfect. Really!”

  She laughed even harder, all but bent over now.

  “What’s so funny?” I glared at her while Kaleb moved over to the window and stared outside. Probably searching for his bus.

  “Flames Down Under. Honey, he’s a stripper! Flames Down Under is kinda…well, they are almost like the Chippendales, but from Australia…and way hotter, if you ask me.”


  Oh, shit.

  My face went hot, and I shoved upright, glaring at Astra. “You think this is funny? My dad is going to freak. Dammit, Astra, stop laughing! I married a stripper! My parents are going to kill me!”

  Four

  Piety

  The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back.

  Appalled at myself, I looked over at him and said, “I’m so sorry. I mean, not that I really…it’s just…”

  “It’s fine.” He made an absent, clearly distracted motion with his hand, his gaze once more returning to the window, his jaw locked tight.

  “I really am sorry. I imagine you work pretty damn hard and I–”

  “It’s fine,” he said, his accent doing nothing to soften the word, and this time, he looked at me. His jaw was tight, but there was something about the way his eyes met mine that made me think he had other things on his mind besides my unintended insult.

  “Are you…um…well…I know you’re worried about the job, but I swear, I’ll get you wherever you need to be.”

  He shook his head, his expression pinched. “I need that fucking job. I need the money. It’s…never mind.”

  Something flashed in his pale eyes, a mix of fury and helplessness, and my belly twisted into a hundred ugly little knots. Something was going on. I didn’t know what it was, but I had a feeling it was bad. And I wanted to help him. Stranger, husband, it didn't matter. No one deserved to look like that.

  “Hey!” Astra clapped her hands, drawing our attention to her. “I’ve got an idea. Kaleb, this could really help you out.”

  The look in her eyes was sly, and her smile had that devious slant to it that I knew all too well. Shit.

  I almost told her I didn’t want to hear it, but sometimes her ideas did have merit. Still, I was more than a little suspicious as I studied her. She was practically rubbing her hands together in glee, she looked so pleased with herself, and that was never good.