Chapter One
“I’m sorry, and you are?”
Nikki
I roll over on the Egyptian cotton sheets and plush mattress, my bladder screaming to release the abundance of alcohol I must’ve drank last night. I assume that’s what happened, given the fact that my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth as if I ate a cotton ball.
I hear the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. I cannot believe Molly is up before me. I usually have to drag her out of bed.
Pulling the covers off of my body, I slide from the bed and tiptoe through the dark room. I trip on some clothes, but catch myself before I plummet to the floor. Seriously, what did we do last night?
I walk into the bathroom, thankful Molly’s chosen not to turn on the lights because my brain could not take it right now. Plus, I really don’t want to see what I look like.
Molly’s been my best friend since we were young and it’s not like I’ve never peed in front of her, so I drop my boxer shorts and sit on the toilet, groaning from the pounding in my head.
Molly’s suggestion of an impromptu girls’ trip to Las Vegas was a great idea. I needed to get out of our small town of Sunrise Bay. Especially since two of my stepbrothers have recently found love. Well, Adam’s was found again, but seriously, whoever thought that skeptic Cade would fall in love? Sure as hell not me, even if he has a soft side. Now all heads are turned in my direction because I’m the oldest daughter in the Greene family. Everyone thinks I should want a family and kids and all that shit, and do I? Truth is, I don’t know. Having Jeff Greene as your dad has a way of fucking you up where white picket fences are concerned.
Molly and I were having fun on our trip until she dragged me to that ridiculous MMA fight last night. We watched two men beat the crap out of each other for fun. I tried to humor her, but it’s barbaric.
Finally, I release my bladder and it feels so good. “How on Earth are you up this early in the morning?”
Molly doesn’t answer right away, but I hear the water turn off.
“I’m so hungover,” I say. “Please tell me you want to go grab a greasy breakfast downstairs?”
“Whatever you want,” a deep voice says.
Not the soft, giggly voice of my best friend.
I can’t even process that before the shower door opens and a naked man with tattoos sprinkled all over his body of bulging muscles steps out. I can make him out from the glow of the night light on the counter. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him. Was he with Molly last night? Oh shit, I shouldn’t be seeing him naked.
“I hope I didn’t wake you. I just had to get all that crap from last night off and a shower always makes me feel better.”
“I’m sorry, and you are?”
He chuckles. “Your husband, of course.”
He grabs a towel off of the rack next to the shower and wraps it around his waist, but I’m still sitting on the toilet, mouth agape, staring at him.
But I glance at my left hand and find a sizable rock there. Meaning he’s telling the truth. I am his wife. And now another Vegas statistic.
And I’m peeing in front of my new husband—who’s also a stranger. He must realize my shock and horror at the same time I do because he chuckles and repositions the towel around his waist while water drips down his chiseled abs and body made of steel. It’s only then that I notice some bruising on his rib cage and the side of his jaw.
“The fighter,” I whisper.
He winks.
He’s one of the fighters from last night. The guy who was beating the shit out of the other guy in that ring. There was kicking and punching and blood everywhere. It was the goriest thing I’d ever witnessed, and I hated every second of it. But Molly loves MMA and managed to get last-minute tickets for us, so I wasn’t gonna disappoint her. Then again, I didn’t know she’d gotten front row seats. While she was cheering the whole time, I mostly sat in disbelief that people found amusement in watching someone get beaten to a bloody pulp.
“After watching you throw up last night, this is nothing.” He motions to where I’m still sitting on the toilet.
My face feels as if it’s beet red. I threw up in front of him and now I’m peeing in front of him? My God, what else did I do?
He doesn’t miss a beat, continuing on with the conversation. “So I got a call from my manager.”
“Manager?” At this point, I’m not sure if I should just stand up and assemble myself or continue to sit while he carries on a conversation.
“Turns out we weren’t exactly discreet with our marriage vows last night.” He turns on the light.
I squint as the feeling of being stabbed through both irises assaults me. I hurry up and wipe, flush, and pull up… his boxers and his T-shirt that I’m wearing. Great.
That means I’m in his hotel room. How the hell do I get to my own hotel room and escape this situation before things get worse?
He leans his hip against the bathroom counter, his toothbrush in his hand and squirting toothpaste on it. “I had the concierge bring us up some toiletries, you know, since you used my toothbrush last night.”
“I used your toothbrush?” The slight whine in my voice doesn’t surprise me. I’d like someone to lock me in a closet somewhere and not let me out until I agree to behave myself like my mom taught me.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s all good. I’m cool with it.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m glad my embarrassment doesn’t bother you, but it bothers me. Just so you know…”
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Surprised me too when I woke up this morning and remembered, but you know…” He shrugs.
What is he talking about? There’s no way he’s considering staying married. He obviously married a very different Nikki Greene than the one he woke up to this morning.
“I think we need to talk about this. Maybe once you have some clothes on.” I wash my hands quickly because I cannot breathe in this sauna of a bathroom with him wearing a towel.
“It’s cool. We can talk like this.”
Sure, I’d be okay talking like that if I didn’t have an ounce of body fat on me too.
“I think we’ll wait because I’m… yeah… I just need to get some air.” I walk out of the bathroom.
A second later, he’s behind me with some remote control thing that opens all the curtains in the room to a view of the Vegas Strip in the daylight. I squint my eyes at the stabbing pain that assaults them from the light until I get used to it and then I gaze out the window.
The magnificent view is another clear sign that this is definitely not the room Molly and I booked. My friend and I are staying in a standard two double beds room, and this is a suite with living room couches and flat screens and a full bar. Where the hell is Molly and how did she let me get this far gone?
“I sense you might be freaking out?” he says.
I spot a picture of him and me with an Elvis impersonator between us. Won’t Mom and Dad be proud? I can’t even imagine what my dad would say. Then again, I don’t really care. I hate that asshole anyway.
In the picture, I’m wearing a white gown that looks too small and he’s wearing a blue tuxedo jacket. We’re both smiling and clearly drunk. Isn’t that illegal?