Tequila truth serum had her blurting out, “You. And me. What if that kiss…that weekend we spent together…was a fluke?”

“What if it wasn’t?” he countered softly.

Flustered, she had to glance away.

Kyle tipped her chin up. “Tell me you don’t feel this.”

“I do feel it. I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Give in to it. Just for one night. What’s the worst that could happen?” He held his shot glass up for a toast.

Celia clinked her glass to his and downed the tequila. “Fine. I’ll give in to it. But you’d better keep me from doing anything stupid.”

Chapter One

Present day

Celia stared at Kyle lounging on the bed, admiring his wedding ring. “Wrong. We are not going to Wyoming. We are marching down to that wedding chapel right now, telling them it was a mistake, and getting an annulment.”

“No.”

“No? I had a f**king head injury yesterday! You cannot believe for one second I was in my right mind when I agreed to marry you!”

“You signed the papers. With little hearts by our names, if memory serves. So some part of you wanted to marry me, Celia.”

Her jaw dropped. He was wrong. Completely, totally, utterly wrong wrong wrong.

Wasn’t he?

His hungry gaze took full measure of her body. “I’ll bet the scent of my cologne is still all over your skin.”

Celia fought the urge to blush because he’d been saying sex stuff like that since the moment she’d woken up. She stubbornly repeated, “I don’t remember a damn thing from last night.”

“Don’t matter. I have this”—he jerked aside his shirt collar to show a small purple hickey—“to prove it.”

Holy crap. She’d done that?

“What’s the last thing you do remember?” he prompted.

She tried to sort through her hazy memories, rattling off, “Us drinking tequila in the cab on the ride to the Trade Winds after Devin’s concert. I went to find Tanna and I took…a couple or three painkillers because my head and ribs hurt.”

Kyle’s eyebrow winged up. “Three painkillers? Did you wash them down with booze?”

“I don’t know.” Man, she’d been full of stupid decisions last night. “So at what point did we exchange vows of eternal devotion and cheap-ass rings?”

“Hey, I checked the receipt this mornin’. The rings were a hundred bucks a pop, so they ain’t completely cheap.”

He had a receipt? “Do you remember everything from last night?”

Kyle leveled that damnably charming smile at her.

Dammit. “Who else knows we had the clichéd, quickie, soon-to-be-annulled wedding in Sin City?”

“Evidently Devin and Tanna were our witnesses.”

Oh f**k. Celia slumped in the chair. This was seriously not good.

“I take it you haven’t talked to Tanna today?”

“No. I was a little busy trying to wrap my head around the fact that I woke up naked, hungover as hell, and wearing your wedding ring!”

His phone rang. He muttered, “I figured she wouldn’t like me hanging up on her.”

Celia had been so concerned about dealing with the bogus marriage issue, she’d lost focus for a few minutes about the terse phone call she’d interrupted. “What did you mean when you said she dropped a bombshell about your alleged father?”

The teasing smile on his face vanished. “That’s exactly it. I don’t know what she meant. She mentioned some kind of inheritance, my father wanting to see me right away, and then she clammed up. When I demanded the full truth, she got pissy. Then I got pissy.” The phone stopped ringing.

“Don’t you want to know what this is about? Obviously she’s anxious to talk to you.”

His eyes were conflicted. “Maybe. It’s freakin’ me out. That, coupled with your near hysteria from last night’s…” He looked away and his jaw tightened. “Never mind. It ain’t your problem.”

Seeing Kyle morph from mocking to morose so quickly triggered an odd need to soothe him. For once Celia didn’t dissect the feeling. She just gave in to it and sat down next to him on the bed. “So make it my problem. Talk to me.”

“You haven’t exactly been civil to me since you woke up at the crack of two this afternoon.”

“Blame it on the shock at discovering I’d been intimately involved in a civil ceremony last night.”

“You’re not blaming me?” Kyle asked skeptically.

“For us getting hitched? Yes, I’m blaming you.” Celia jabbed at him with her finger. “You were supposed to keep me from doing something stupid.”

He studied her. Pointed at her with his beer bottle. “Well, I don’t think it was stupid.”

His calm acceptance caused her to blurt out, “I don’t even know what the hell to say to that.”

The phone rang again.

“We’re in the same boat because I don’t know what the hell to say to her. About my father. Christ.” He chugged the rest of his beer. “Talk about bizarre.”

She patted his thigh. “Kyle. It has to be hard for her too. Talk to her.”

“This oughta be fun.” He answered his phone. “Mom. Yeah, I am sorry. No. I don’t understand. Why now?” After a minute or so, Kyle stood and paced, holding the phone with one hand, gesturing wildly with the other. “If you think I’m gonna haul ass all the way to Wyoming so you can have the dramatic edge of dropping his name on me in person, think again. Either give me his name right freakin’ now or I’m hanging up.”

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