Waking Up Wed

“If you think I’m going to tell you that this wedding picture was just a joke, then I won’t tell you that.”

“How do you know?” She squinted one lid open, and he handed over the very official-looking marriage license. Sign, sealed and delivered.

She was a smart woman. Drew couldn’t recall how he knew this, but he remembered thinking it at some point last night. So he remained quiet and let her come to the inevitable conclusion.

“Wow.” She sank down to the floor, her long, shapely legs exposed as her knees poked through the gap in the white terry cloth.

He’d learned early on that to have effective communication with people, he needed to reach them on their level. So despite the queasiness in his own stomach, he gingerly lowered himself to floor beside her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wanting to comfort her. “I don’t know how it happened or why we did it, but it looks as though we’re married.”

She cupped her head in her hand while holding the license in the other. Her eyes traveled over the paper repeatedly, probably looking for some loophole or some hint that it wasn’t legitimate. Unfortunately, Drew knew they were staring at the real deal.

“But how can we be married when it says our only witnesses were two people who signed their names as Pistole Pepe and Maddog Molly?”

Drew handed over the wedding photo. “I think that guy with the long beard and miner’s hat is Pistole. This snarling woman holding the blue flowers like yours must be Molly.”

“God, my maid of honor was an overweight saloon girl with a missing tooth.”

“Maybe we should try to focus on the more important facts,” he suggested.

“Seriously? How can you not be worried about this?” The arched red brow made him think she didn’t like his suggestion. “You got totally wasted last night and forced a complete stranger to marry you. Who the hell knows what kind of fornication we committed in that bed right over there? Yet now you have the nerve to tell me that none of that is important?”

“Okay, let’s recap. One, I’m a doctor. A clinical psychologist, to be exact. My job is to look at the big picture.”

“But you’re performing the wedding. Don’t you have to be a preacher to do that?”

“Uh, no. Anyone can get certified online to do that. I owed Cooper a favor and he knows I hate public speaking.”

“Well, that explains that mystery.” She let out a sigh, then leaned her head back so quickly, it thunked against the wall.

“Can we get back to the current situation?” He waited for her to nod before continuing, “Two, I don’t think it’s in anybody’s best interests to keep a running tab of potential sins. Three, I might have been somewhat intoxicated, but judging by the smile on your face in that picture, I think we can safely say that nobody forced anybody to do anything last night. Four, I’m pretty sure that whatever might or might not have happened in that bed last night wouldn’t be considered fornication if we were technically married.”

Drew was a patient man, but he didn’t know if the woman collapsed in front of him was willing to listen to reasonable logic. How would he? He didn’t know her from Adam. Or Eve. But he did know that if Eve had looked anything like Kylie Chatterson, Drew didn’t blame Adam one bit for taking a bite of that cursed apple.

“I’ll concede points one through three,” she finally said. “But since you’re not a minister, then you’re clearly no expert on what might or might not constitute fornication.”

Wait, now she was annoyed that he wasn’t a minister? The lady needed to make up her mind, because he couldn’t win this game. “Are you an attorney?”

“No, I’m a CPA. When you talk in numbers to me, things make better sense.”

Drew would have to store that knowledge away for future use. “Listen, I’m just as confused and overwhelmed by this whole thing as you are. But I know that we have to keep our heads clear and our words civil if we’re going to get through this.”

She nodded, but her confused eyes still sought answers. “How can you be so calm? This can’t be great news for you, either, but you’ve yet to freak out.”

“Job hazard. I’m in the business of keeping calm when everything around me is blowing up. Literally.”

“Well, this would certainly qualify as an explosion in my life.” The back of her head thumped against the wall again as she lifted her face to the ceiling.

“There’s a coffeemaker in here. Why don’t I brew some and we can figure out our next course of action?”

He stood and held out his hand to her. He realized his mistake when she stared at his extended fingers before taking several breaths. He was still wearing the gold band. She probably didn’t appreciate the reminder of last night, but he hadn’t been able to get the thing off his oversize knuckle.

At almost six foot four and weighing close to two hundred thirty pounds, Drew was a big man. He was accustomed to things not always being available in his size. Apparently, his selection in wedding rings was no exception.

After a few uncomfortable moments, she finally accepted his extended hand by placing her own in his. He effortlessly pulled her up and, when they were practically face-to-face, he was pleasantly surprised that she was only a few inches shorter than him.

But holding hands made it easier for her to study the his-and-hers duplicate set of jewelry. She dropped his fingers as if the rings were some sort of live grenades and then tugged on her gold band, but it wouldn’t even budge.

“Ugh. It’s stuck. I’m probably swollen up from all the booze.”

Drew’s eyes dipped from her hand to her heaving chest as she labored over the ring, and he noticed her fingers weren’t the only things swollen. The way the lapel of her robe gaped open, he could see that her breasts were about to spill out of their D cups.

Heat stole up his neck, and his skin tightened all over his body. He quickly turned away to walk toward the minibrewer tucked into a corner alcove.

With his back to her, he heard her cross behind him to the opposite side of the room. He hoped she wasn’t physically distancing herself in fear that he was some sort of pervert and might attack her. She probably sensed the way his body was responding to her, and he couldn’t blame her for taking precautions.

“We’re supposed to meet the rest of the wedding party for brunch in less than thirty minutes,” she said as he made the first cup. “Do you think they’ll wonder whether something is wrong if neither one of us shows?”

“Why wouldn’t we show up for bunch? I, for one, am starving. Did we even have dinner last night?”

“Don’t ask me,” Kylie said, then thanked him for the mug he offered. She sat in one of the chairs, and he wondered if her legs were as shaky as his. “After we left the cocktail lounge, everything else that happened last night is pretty vague. And what do you mean ‘why wouldn’t we show up for brunch’? We can’t walk in there, in front of all our friends, and act as if nothing’s out of the ordinary.”

“Why can’t we? They obviously weren’t there last night or they would’ve put a stop to...you know.” Drew gestured toward the empty souvenir cups littering the hotel room, leaving any mention of the impromptu wedding unsaid.

“That’s a good point. So you think we should just act as if nothing happened? I mean, I don’t want to lie to my friends, but if we play everything off as though we had a bit too much to drink and don’t remember last night clearly, that would be the truth, right?”

Drew had been raised to believe that an omission was just as serious as a lie. But it wasn’t as though he needed to broadcast their mistake to the world or make it anyone’s business. He didn’t know what to do. Nothing about this situation was sitting well. Including the way Kylie’s sweet green eyes pleaded with him.

He was a problem solver by nature and wished he could just give her some advice and then walk away. But this was one problem he didn’t know how to solve.

“Can I ask you a question?” He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Sure, but I can’t guarantee I’ll know the answer.”

“What are your thoughts on marriage? Not this marriage, per se, but in general. I mean, you’re an attractive woman. You’re smart. And clearly, you know how to have fun. So is there a reason why you’re not married?”

She sank her head back against the chair as if the question exhausted her. But Drew was used to waiting for people to explain things in their own ways. So he stood there, gripping his coffee mug and glasses, waiting for her answer.

“I really have no idea why I’m not married. Heaven knows I’ve dated enough men that you’d think I would’ve found Mr. Right by now.” That wasn’t exactly the answer Drew was hoping to hear. Sure, Kylie was pretty, and he could see why any red-blooded male would want to go out with her, but he could’ve done without the knowledge that had an active dating calendar.

“To me, marriage is a serious commitment,” he said, trying to make a point.

“Which we entered into lightly.” Kylie’s posture, even when seated, was tall and impressive, and Drew doubted she could sit up any straighter.

“But still, we entered into it and everything it entails.”

“Listen, I get it that not everyone believes in divorce. But I’m sure we can get an annulment or something that wouldn’t taint your beliefs or your reputation.”

“Some people might see that as a solution. Yet I have a feeling that we took vows before God.”

Kylie looked ready to bolt and probably would’ve run as far from him as she could if he wasn’t standing in between her and her suitcase full of clothes. “We also took vows before some guy named Pistole Pepe, which I’m sure wasn’t his legal name at birth. Look, you seem like a real straitlaced guy, but there’s an exception to every rule.”

Maybe. Kylie looked like the kind of woman who was used to making her own rules. Yet something about her fighting spirit made him question whether he wanted an exception. “I don’t know much about the legal logistics, but can we get an annulment if we consummated the marriage?”

Her charming face blushed more crimson than he would’ve thought possible, and he wanted to kick himself for embarrassing the poor woman. She was definitely shyer than she let on.

Despite the heat staining her cheekbones, she sat up even straighter. But her voice was a mere whisper when she finally spoke. “Did we...?”

Once again, he wanted to put her fears to rest, but he honestly had no idea. He felt like a complete idiot for not remembering. But the fact remained that they’d gotten married and they’d woken up together nearly naked. And did he mention that since he’d sworn off intimacy with women, he hadn’t had sex in over a year?

“Honestly,” he said, “I don’t know. And if neither one of us knows the answer to that, then I’m guessing we also don’t know whether or not we used...um...protection?”

Chapter Two

“Oh, my gosh. No. No. No.” Kylie thought of every curse word ever uttered by her father and four athletic brothers, and then repeated one that would have shocked a war-weary sailor, let alone the confused doctor in front of her.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. She hated offending Drew, who finally looked uncomfortable. It wasn’t his fault she’d sacrificed her much-practiced poise for the feistiness she usually kept hidden. “I don’t usually talk like that. I didn’t mean to let my mouth get away from me.”

He looked at her lips and she instantly regretted the words that drew his attention there. But she was too absorbed in her own panic to worry about what kind of pleasure they might or might not have partaken of last night.

“I know we wouldn’t have forgotten that. Right?” She was too mortified to even say what that was.

He ran his hand through his close-cropped military-style haircut, and she wondered how she could have possibly thought this conservative, clean-cut man in the crisp jeans and J.Crew sweater was a male stripper.

“I would like to think that we both would have known better than to be so reckless.” His confident tone didn’t quite match his puzzled and slightly pink expression. “Yet from the looks of everything else around us, we should have known better about a lot of things.”

“But you don’t understand. I can’t just be married. Or suddenly pregnant by someone I don’t know. My father would kill me. My brothers would kill you. Everyone in Sugar Falls would say they knew something like this was bound to happen. I’ll have to give up my accounting practice and move to Boise. Wait. Farther than that. Siberia, maybe. This is going to ruin my whole life.”

“Well, at least we’re equally screwed.”

Wait, had he just said screwed? Perhaps the gravity of the situation was finally sinking in for Doctor Perfect.

“I mean, it’s not as if this is going to look really great for my career or my family.” He waved his arm dramatically at the room, including the empty beverage cups and her. “I’m not exactly proud of all this.”

It was difficult to not take the insult personally. Why would he be ashamed of marrying her? Maybe she wasn’t some stuffy Miss Priss, but she was decent in the looks department and she was financially successful. Plus, she didn’t have any standout mental health concerns, addictions or genetic diseases—that she knew of. Frankly, he could do a lot worse.

Of course, so could she. And hadn’t she proved just that with some of the losers she’d dated in the past? No man she’d ever been out with—and if you asked her two best friends, they’d say she’d been out with a lot—had made it past her rigid checklist of qualities for Mr. Right. Her strike-one-and-you’re-out policy explained why she went through eligible men so quickly. That and her fear of taking home anyone to meet her opinionated family.

While life had taught her to be pragmatic about most things, Kylie believed in true love. She was a romantic at heart and knew that somewhere out there, her soul mate was waiting for her. Unfortunately, she doubted that her soul mate would want the pregnant ex-wife of some military shrink.

She sighed. “I’m sorry if it seems as if I’m only looking out for my best interests here. This probably wasn’t exactly what you envisioned, either, when we ordered that first round last night. But at least you don’t live in a small, judgmental town like Sugar Falls. You won’t be carrying around a nine-month reminder of this night or have smug busybodies shake their heads at you when you pass them on the street with your love child in tow. You get to hop on the first navy plane out of here and go on about your life.”

Drew knelt in front of her, his fingers cupping her chin, gently forcing her to meet his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. Especially if you’re carrying my child. You don’t know me or the kind of person I am, so I’m not going to take offense at what you just said. But I’m telling you this now, completely sober and with every moral fiber in my body. We will be in this together, and any decisions that need to be made will be made by both of us.”

Kylie wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a vow. He seemed to have an abundance of moral fibers floating around in his perfectly formed body. Yet, behind the clear lenses, his eyes were very serious and solemn. For some reason, his words soothed her, and she no longer felt as though she was drowning alone. The fact remained, though, that she was still drowning. All she could hope was that this guy didn’t sink her in his quest to save himself first.

It must’ve been the lingering effects of the alcohol causing her palms to sweat and her tummy to swirl. Out of all the men she’d gone out with, not once had one’s nearness ever made her feel this light-headed.

Kylie needed some food to ease her roiling stomach, and they had only about ten minutes to get to brunch downstairs before their dual absence caused speculation.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s agree to get through today and this upcoming week back in Sugar Falls as if nothing has happened.” Hopefully, by then, she’d have some more answers—like whether she’d need to buy a pregnancy test and when he’d be on his way out of town and out of her life. “We won’t make any decisions until after the wedding. Their wedding, that is. Maxine and Cooper’s. Not yours and mine. Ugh. You know what I mean.”

Great. How was she ever going to get through this brunch if she couldn’t even get through a sentence?

“That sounds like a good plan.” He stood back up, his hand that had gently stroked her chin now extended in a handshake. She hadn’t noticed before but his right pinkie was slightly bent—an interesting flaw in an otherwise perfect specimen of man.

He had replaced an intimate gesture with a businesslike stance. So she rose from the chair in order to cover up the fact that she was leaning toward him like a lost kitten seeking out a friendly pat. Had she been wearing her usual four-inch heels, she would have come close to matching his impressive height. However, in her bare feet and oversize robe, she felt more delicate and womanly than she was used to when around average-size men.

Whoa, he was well built. As his hand shook hers, she smiled, thinking that under his preppy sweater and starched jeans was a rippling specimen of a man that only she was privy to. She liked knowing that.

He still hadn’t released her from his grip when two abrupt knocks sounded at the door. Drew turned to answer it and she grabbed his forearm and pulled him back. What was he thinking?

She put a finger to her mouth and shoved him toward the bathroom. A second passed before his brows lifted in surprise. He finally figured out that she wanted to hide him from whoever was knocking. The guy was obviously not schooled in the art of clandestine operations, which was probably a point in his favor. Just not at that exact moment.

She waited until the bathroom knob clicked before opening the hotel room door.

Her best friend’s former mother-in-law, Cessy Walker, and Freckles, the owner of the Cowgirl Up Café back home, brushed past her and into what Kylie was sure they would sense was her den of iniquity.

“Are we supposed to meet here for the brunch?” Cessy asked.

“Uh, no.” Kylie turned quickly, hoping the women wouldn’t notice the remains of last night’s debauchery that still littered the nightstand and floor. “We were supposed to meet downstairs at the buffet.”

Kylie’s frantic search zeroed in on the wedding photo and license she’d left on the chair, and she quickly sat on top of them.

“You’re not ready,” Cessy said, pointing out the obvious.

“No, I’m running a little late, Mrs. Walker. Why don’t you two ladies go on down and let everyone know that we’re... I mean, that I’m on my way.”

“Kylie.” Cessy tsked, looking around the room. “You’re one of the maids of honor. You’re supposed to be hosting the brunch. It’s in bad taste to show up late to your own event.”

Hopefully, Sugar Falls’s resident society matron wouldn’t find out what other forms of bad taste Kylie had recently been engaged in.

“Is your shower running?” asked Freckles—who looked older than Kylie’s grandmother, yet dressed as though she was a runner-up in a Dolly Parton lookalike contest.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just about to hop in when you guys knocked.”

“Well, we’ll just wait out here for you, then. Maybe it’ll speed you along.”

Kylie thought about the man inside her bathroom who, right this second, was probably lathering up his well-muscled body. She couldn’t go in there now or she’d see him in all his angelic glory. She would have blushed in mortification at her lustful thoughts for a stranger, but she was too busy flushing bright red at the realization that the two women looked like they were going to settle in and wait for her to do just that.

Before she could muster a protest, an undoubtedly manly shout sounded from the other side of the door. “Ow! Man, that’s slippery!”

Freckles’s face split into an ear-to-ear lipstick-covered grin. But her slightly younger and overcontrolling cohort looked confused.

“Who was that?” Cessy asked.

“That’s what I call the evidence of a good bachelorette party.” Freckles giggled, slapping her painted on jeans–clad thigh.

“Kylie Chatterson, I can’t believe you brought a man back to your hotel room—and of all times. You couldn’t go one weekend without one?” Cessy looked more exasperated than surprised, and Kylie’s pride stung at the implication that promiscuous behavior was expected from her. Normally she would’ve launched a full verbal attack against any petty remarks directed at her or her loved ones. But the truth of the situation and her growing shame wouldn’t allow her to defend her questionable honor.

“Stop being such a prude, Cessy,” the other woman said. If Kylie hadn’t been sitting across the room in the chair, refusing to budge for fear of revealing the condemning documents, the older waitress probably would’ve high-fived her.

Freckles was the liberal yin to Cessy’s conservative and proper yang. They were a mismatched set of friends, and right about now Kylie fought back tears at their intrusive assumptions. But at this second, she couldn’t argue with the evidence. So she bit her lip and tried to come up with a plan to get them out of her room.

“Well, you’d better not bring some one-night stand to my daughter-in-law’s prewedding brunch. Cooper’s friend, that sweetheart of a man who’s performing the wedding, is going to be there. His father is a minister, and Drew himself is a well-respected and high-ranking officer. The last thing we need is for him to think the bride’s best friend is hooking up with random men.”

The sharp insult was a stiletto to Kylie’s heart. She wanted to scream that the almighty, holier-than-thou Doctor Gregson was too busy being naked in her shower and recovering from a hangover of epic proportions to worry about anyone else’s misconduct.

But she wouldn’t turn this into a bigger scandal and out the poor guy like that—even if misery did love company.

Kylie counted to one hundred under her breath. The only thing stopping her from verbally putting Cessy Walker in her place was the fact that, in this situation, Kylie’s behavior was indefensible. Even if it seemed to be what everyone anticipated. And that was what hurt the most.

Sure, Kylie wore clothes that were arguably a bit too sexy by Sugar Falls, Idaho, standards. But underneath the beauty-queen smile, the spandex and the heels, she was a well-balanced and professional woman.

Heck, Kylie even did Cessy Walker’s—as well as half the town’s—income taxes. It seemed everyone trusted her sensible side when it came to important things like their finances and life savings. But nobody seemed to trust her when it came to moral values that were none of their business anyway.

She was just about to say as much when Freckles finally spoke up and pulled her friend’s arm. “Cessy Walker, don’t try to shame the girl for having a little fun. You were on your third marriage by the time you were Kylie’s age. C’mon now, let’s go meet everyone downstairs. She’s a big girl and can make her own decisions. Besides, she’s so smart...”

Their voices drifted down the hallway as Kylie slammed the door closed.

Just then, Drew poked his head out of the bathroom, probably making sure the coast was clear. “I, uh, don’t have any of my clothes except the ones I wore yesterday. Do you think I have time to go back to my room to change?”

His slim hips were barely covered by a knotted white towel; his wide shoulders and tapering torso were too much for her overcrowded mind to take in. “Just put on the same stuff and get down there before me. Nobody will notice what you’re wearing anyway.”

“Listen,” he started, and she could already see the pity in his face. “I couldn’t help but hear Mrs. Walker’s voice. I’m sorry for the way she spoke to you. I’m sure that if we put our heads together, we can figure out how to minimize the gossip.”

His words stung her pride even more than she’d thought possible. She hated anyone feeling sorry for her and was mortified that he’d overheard the older woman chastising her. Her parents had raised her to be tough, and she’d been on the receiving end of worse insults than the ones he’d just overheard. What she couldn’t handle was pity. His sympathy implied she had no control over her life and needed Doctor Goodbody to step in and save her.