“I’m afraid our products and services are not available à la carte. So, unless you’d like to purchase a wedding package…”
Footsteps pounded down the hallway, and panic spiked through Keri. “Sure! Yes! We’ll take a wedding package.”
“Shall we say the deluxe package? It includes—”
“Yes. I’m sure it’s wonderful.”
“Very well, Madame.” He ran her card, then handed her the receipt to sign, even managing a tight-lipped smile. “And the license?”
It seemed pointless to check her ID after he’d already put the charge through, but she wasn’t going to argue while he was standing next to a phone he could use to call security. She dug the card out of her wallet and held it out to him.
“Not that license, Madame. Your marriage license.”
“No. See, we’re not really getting married. This is only for fun.”
Footsteps again. Crap.
She signed the credit card slip with one hand, gaze focused on the door that led back to the hall.
“Very well. Shall we go back?” Powder-Blue Tux motioned toward the double doors he’d come through.
Wherever they led, it was the opposite direction from security, which made her decision easy. “Absolutely.”
Somehow, Sean made it upright on his own power. He lurched through the double doors Powder-Blue Tux was holding open, only to stop abruptly.
Keri reached for his arm, but he hadn’t lost his balance. He was staring at the red-carpeted aisle that ran down the center of the room, dividing the theater-style seating into two sections. A stage at the front held a canopy weighed down by the entire state’s crop of fake flowers. But the really impressive part was the mood lighting. Each of the sconces set into the wall had a different color light, but they shared the same garish glow. It was a whorehouse rainbow.
“What colors were you considering?” Powder-Blue Tux asked.
“What…?”
“We turn off all the lights except your favorites, so that you can process down the aisle to your signature colors.”
“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. We only wanted to, uh...soak in the atmosphere.”
“But the deluxe package includes chapel rental, a bouquet, two rings, a bottle of champagne, and two nights in our honeymoon suite.”
Her stomach dropped toward the hot-pink paisley carpet. How much had she paid? She should have looked at the total before signing the receipt. Add the last-minute plane ticket to Reno, and this trip was going to wipe out a huge portion of the savings she’d earmarked for her last three years of med school. “We only needed a place to…. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”
As if to contradict her, Sean dropped into the closest chair. His eyes closed.
“I’m afraid I can’t give you a refund,” Powder-Blue Tux said.
“I wasn’t asking for one.” No matter how much I might like to.
“But I can give you these.” He unlocked a cabinet mounted to the back wall and pulled out two silver bands that looked suspiciously like wedding rings.
“We really don’t need—”
“I insist. You did pay for it.”
Keri took a firm step back, but she’d misjudged. Powder-Blue Tux wasn’t going for her. He was mincing toward Sean.
“No!” She hurled herself forward. “Wait!” If Sean threw the little man across the room, security would bust them for sure.
Too late. Powder-Blue Tux grabbed Sean’s hand.
Keri tensed, but Sean just watched, squinting like he couldn’t focus, as the little man shoved the band onto his ring finger.
“There.” Powder-Blue Tux turned toward her, panting. “Madame? If you would allow me?”
She grabbed the ring before he could shove it on her finger. She needed to get Sean out of here before Powder-Blue Tux forged a marriage certificate and pronounced them man and wife. “Thanks. But I’m afraid we have to be going.”
“Huh?” Sean’s head jerked up like she’d woken him from a deep sleep.
“We’re leaving.” She had no idea how she was going to lift a one-hundred-and-eighty-pound SEAL, but once he processed the fact that she wanted him on his feet, he somehow made it happen. His steps were slower than normal, but he navigated a relatively straight line.
“Where’re we goin’?”
“One moment, Madame. Don’t forget this.” Powder-Blue Tux waved a key card in her face. “Your key to the honeymoon suite.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Her hand closed around the card. The edges dug into her palm, and she got the strangest feeling, like that simple act had somehow changed the course of her life.
Powder-Blue Tux’s smile looked almost genuine this time. “Sleep well.”
CHAPTER 2
KERI WAS HAVING the best dream of her life. Satin sheets, tropical flowers, and a pair of warm, distinctly male arms around her—what more could she ask for?
Those perfectly sculpted biceps flexed, pulling her close enough that she could feel every hard inch of his body. One of his hands settled on her stomach, the other under her breast.
She took a breath, and the tiny hint of friction that came with it sent a jolt of pleasure through her. The temptation to explore all that hard muscle was too much to resist. She pressed back against him, her legs tangling with his.
Damn. Every inch of him was hard. The kind of hard that made her soft and wet and very concerned that she not wake up before her body got what it suddenly, desperately needed.
She angled her hips back, the only barrier between them her thin lace panties and his boxers. And while it was nice the dream gods hadn’t stuck her with ratty cotton, they could’ve saved some time by doing away with the underwear entirely.
Dream Man’s lips traced the side of her neck. His stubble raked her skin, and her nipples pebbled against her T-shirt. She needed his hands…his mouth…his body on top of hers.
She was so close. If she could only get rid of that stupid lace. Get him inside her.
He gripped her thigh. Bit the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder.
She didn’t recognize the sound that came out of her. Her whole body pulsed with need. Every muscle, every organ, every cell strained toward him, the need so much stronger than any dream she’d ever had.
Because it wasn’t a dream. This was real.
Holy shit, this was real.
She eased her eyes open, making sure they were pointed well away from those arms wrapped around her middle. Even her sleep-addled brain knew she needed a second to ease into that. Instead, she focused on the cut-glass candy bowl on her nightstand.
Where had that come from? She kept her junk food stash in the top cupboard of the pantry, and—
Wait a minute. Those deep red wrappers weren’t the right shape to hold Hershey’s Kisses or Lindt Truffles. Those looked more like…
Condoms.
Not her condoms. Not her nightstand. Not her bed.
She was in the honeymoon suite at the Palais Hotel, and she’d been making out with Sean.
He moved against her, one hungry body seeking another, and she was suddenly, completely awake. Awake and impossibly wet. She pressed against him, desperate and needy—
“Keri?” He pushed her away, evacuating to the far side of the bed in a single, fluid motion that showed off those muscles she’d been examining a second earlier.
She’d fantasized about having him in her bed for years, but the reality—even the abbreviated version—had been better than all of her daydreams. Of course, he hadn’t glared at her like she’d auctioned off classified military documents to the highest bidder after any of their fantasy encounters.
“Uhm.” Her gaze fled downward to escape his glare. And—okay—because she wanted to check out those abs. “Hi.”
He pulled on a shirt, blocking her view. “What the fuck?”
So he’s a little freaked out. That’s only natural, given he’s spent the last twelve years treating you like his little sister. Do not get upset.
“Don’
t worry. We were only…” Her gaze, which had drifted farther down, encountered the one part of his anatomy that was most definitely still happy to see her.
Need rushed through her like a tidal wave, sweeping away rational thought. She wanted to finish what they’d started. Now.
She didn’t realize she’d moved across the bed until he took a step back. The sudden movement drew her gaze to his legs. New skin was forming at the site of his kiteboarding injury, but she still remembered what it had looked like at first—red and raw—like half the skin on his leg had been scraped off when the kite dragged him through the sand.
Her stomach lurched, purging the completely inappropriate desire.
She took a breath, reminding herself to look at what was right in front of her instead of the before picture burned into her brain. “Your leg looks better. You’re using the antibiotic ointment I gave you, right?”
Muttering something that could have been a yes or a no, he pulled on the jeans she’d taken off so he could get a good night’s sleep. And also because she’d wanted to get a look at what was under them.
That was a dangerous thought, so she banished it from her head. “It’s really important that you use the ointment. Seriously, Sean. Multi-drug resistant staph infections cause over 11,000 deaths every year, not to mention—”
“Fine. I’ll use it. Now would you stop staring at me?”
“I’m not staring.” She was staring, darn it all.
She forcibly transferred her gaze to the left. Where it landed on the bowl of condoms.
His gaze followed hers. “Are those…” He shook his head. “How did I get here? This isn’t my hotel room.”
“You were kind of out of it. I didn’t know where your room was, and since we had this one anyway, I figured we might as well use it.”
His forehead knit like he was trying to bring back the exact sequence of events that had led him here. “I remember talking to Bri. And then that bouncer was in my face and he shoved me into the wall, and… You got me out of there.”
“Of course. I mean, it wasn’t your fault. You were defending yourself.”
“Thanks.” The word came out slow and halting like he used it so infrequently he wasn’t even sure how to pronounce it. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know I didn’t have to. I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”
He reached toward her then changed his mind at the last minute, threading his hand through his short hair.
She wanted to touch him there. She wanted—
“Thanks. For having my back.”
That made a record two thank yous in less than a minute, and she struggled to keep the amazement out of her voice. “No problem.”
“So you got me out of the club, and then we were in that wedding chapel, and…” His face paled under his impressive tan. He glanced around, taking in the bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of melted ice. The bouquet of roses tied with a ribbon that read Congratulations! in gold glitter. The bowl on the nightstand, filled to the brim with condoms. Last, but not least, he glanced at his ring finger, which had the wedding band she hadn’t been able to pry off.
“No,” she said, starting to correct him, but he was cursing too loudly to hear.
Don’t take it personally. He’s tired. He’s hung over. And who wouldn’t be upset at the idea of being—suddenly and without any memory of the event—married?
Still, the little girl inside her who had doodled hearts with Sean’s initials all over her high school notebooks and dreamed that one day he would finally kiss her, was absolutely crushed.
“What were you doing in Reno anyway?” Sean growled, the implication clear—if you’d been home where you belonged, none of this would’ve happened.
She dragged the sheet up, covering herself. “I told you. I had a bachelorette party.”
“Were you meeting a guy?” He let out a cold, hard laugh. “He’s gonna be pissed when he finds out you’re off the market.”
“At least I didn’t go to compete in the latest episode of Extreme Sports: Death Wish Edition. Didn’t you hear about those kids who died at The Towers last month?”
Sean’s face went blank. He grabbed his wallet from the nightstand. Then his keys.
Keri’s stomach churned like she was the one with the hangover. “Where are you going?”
He looked at her with that same emotionless expression—the one that had scared her so badly that the last-minute airfare to Reno seemed like a bargain. “None of your business.”
She jumped out of bed. Dress. Where was her dress? “You’d better not be going to The Towers.
“Why? You think because Elvis pronounced us man and wife in some bullshit ceremony you’ll have annulled next week you can tell me what to do?”
Anger descended over her—a red haze that obscured everything. “You made a commitment Sean. I don’t care if you were under the influence of twenty gallons of alcohol. It’s done, and you can’t take it back. So you’d better shape up and make something of your life because I’m counting on you.”
Her words echoed inside her head in the ensuing silence. Rational thought slowly returned, and she waited for him to attack. To pronounce her a liar or a manipulator or simply walk out of the room to escape this manufactured responsibility like he’d walked away from all his real ones.
But he didn’t. He stared at her. His shoulders relaxed like her crazy diatribe had somehow freed him of a great burden, and his blank expression resolved into the Sean she knew. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She stood tall even though she was mostly naked, trying to pretend that was exactly what she’d expected to hear. “I mean, I’m glad we understand each other.”
*
Sean had no idea how things had spiraled so far out of control so quickly. All he’d wanted to do was fix just one of the problems he’d caused his best friend. Yet, somehow, he’d done more damage than even he’d thought possible.
When Ty found out Sean had married his sister in some quickie ceremony so they could have a drunken hook-up, he would lose his shit. And Sean wouldn’t blame him.
He didn’t even remember how it had gone down, though it wasn’t hard to figure out. He’d had a hard-on for Keri since puberty. Last night, under the influence of too much alcohol and too little self-control, he’d taken what he’d wanted for so long without any thought to the consequences.
Now he had another mess to clean up. He couldn’t burden Keri with a fuckup like him for a husband. She deserved better than that.
The only solution was a quiet divorce. But if he brought up the idea now, she’d never go for it. She knew he was struggling, and with her naïve, I-can-do-anything-if-I-put-my-mind-to-it attitude, she’d never believe he was unfixable. She’d stick to his side, wrench in hand, until he’d snapped the steel in half. The only way to save her was to convince her he was fine. All better, thank you very much. Good thing he was a decent actor.
“Are you okay?” Keri was looking at him with concern. “Do you want an aspirin? Maybe you should get some more sleep. I can close the curtains and—”
“I’m fine. I’m going to hop in the shower, and then we can get going.”
“Going?” She regarded him cautiously from under lashes that were a wet dream all by themselves. “Where?”
“I thought we’d take a drive down to Lake Tahoe.”
“If you think I’m going to go cliff diving with you, Sean Patterson, you have another think coming. I’ll handcuff you to the steering wheel of that beater truck if I have to.”
Her vehement response coaxed a genuine smile from him. “Don’t worry, Ker Bear. We won’t get anywhere near a cliff. We’ll go for one of those cruises around the lake.”
“Really?” She gave him a hug that was both too long and too short. “I’ve always wanted to go on one of those! Ever since Kimmie Pierce went in sixth grade and would not stop talking about it.”
“I remember.”
“Yeah?” Her excited grin transformed int
o an intent stare that reminded him exactly what they’d been doing before he’d fully woken up.
Shit. Major strategic error.
He knew what he needed to do. Turn around and walk into the bathroom and lock the door. And then, because he wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about the way Keri had held his gaze when she’d talked about handcuffing him to the truck—like she was planning to use that sexy little body to distract him from his cliff-diving plans—he’d take an ice-cold shower.
He knew all that. Yet he heard himself saying, “You don’t really have handcuffs.”
Her smile was sweet, but her gaze moved down his body like she was perusing a menu. “Was that a statement or a question?”
“Uh…”
She brushed past him, moving into the bathroom. The shower went on.
“Hey!” he shouted. “I called first shower.”
“There’s plenty of room.”
A hint of steam escaped from the half-open door. Just the thought of her there, warm water streaming over those curves he saw every night in his dreams, was enough to get him hard.
He closed his eyes. Forget about it. Not gonna happen.
But instead of changing the subject to baseball scores or battlefield injuries, his brain treated him to an instant replay of Keri in that bed. The way she’d looked in that second between when he’d opened his eyes and when he’d fully awakened. When she hadn’t been his best friend’s sweet, innocent little sister, but a woman who wanted a man. Who wanted him.
His dick rammed against his fly, demanding what it was never going to have, and he groaned. This was going to be the hardest few days of his life. In more ways than one.
*
“You want to what now?” Sean clenched his cell phone until the plastic case squeaked in protest. It had to be malfunctioning because there was no way his fellow SEAL, Marcus Hardy, one of his brothers, had said—
“I wanna ask Bri out,” Hardy repeated, loud and clear.
What the fuck?
With Keri naked in the shower and Hardy talking crazy, it was like Sean was trapped in a bad dream. But he could tell by the residual ache in his head, from where the bouncer had shoved him into that beam, that he was wide awake. “Why in the hell would you do that?”
Marriage: Impossible (Voretti Family Book 1) Page 2