Page 2

Chapter Two

Kit

Memories I’ve pushed to the deep recesses of my mind come back in full force. A dream that was so real I’m left with an ache. The touch of him. That scent of Obsession mixed with the essence that was purely Beau Matthews fills every one of my senses.

Gray eyes with that mischievous glint stare back at me, crinkling at the corner. The smile that tortured me as a girl and still makes my stomach swoop as a woman. Fingers running over full lips on that one summer night I thought they would finally be pressed against mine.

Movement next to me tries to pull me out of the dream I never want to wake up from. I fight against it. I want to stay right here, with this man, for as long as possible before I’m ripped back and have to deal with what happened yesterday.

“Kit.” The husky voice of the man I’m dreaming about seeps through my consciousness. Knowing I’m imagining it, I wave my hand to make whoever is not Beau saying my name go away.

A gentle touch slides my hair off my face and the voice tries again. “Kit. It’s time to wake up.”

Blinking awake, the brightness of the morning light startles me, but not quite as much as the face and gray gaze I’ve been dreaming about watching me.

The sheepish, lopsided grin sends my pulse racing. I snap my eyes shut and blink hard for good measure before I open them again. When I do, I inspect the man standing over me.

“Beau?” His lips twitch, warmth spreading through me. I hesitantly reach out to touch him but stop myself. “Are you real?”

His rich chuckle runs through my body, sending chills down my spine. “Here.” He holds out a coffee to me. “I thought you might need a bit of caffeine after last night.”

“Last night?” I ask, pulling myself up; I take the cup of coffee and lean against the headboard.

“I just got you a regular latte since I have no idea what you like.” He shoves his hands into his jeans. “Heck, I’m not even sure you like coffee.”

“Cream or milk?” I say, bringing the cup to my mouth and sighing. “Cream. Good call.”

Lifting the cup again, I pause and turn toward Beau, who is still gazing down at me with a self-conscious expression. “How did you get in my room?”

“I think a better question is, how much do you remember about last night?” He pulls his bottom lip in with his teeth, his body moving up and down. I check out his feet to find him tapping the heel of one of them.

“Last night?” I echo. “Honestly, I don’t remember much after…”

I stop not wanting to tell anyone that Scott left me at the altar yesterday. After being engaged for years. Years. Not wanting to set a date, he suggests we come to Las Vegas and finally get married. It wasn’t my dream wedding by any means. But any wedding is better than no wedding, right?

Wrong.

Especially if the man you came here to marry tells you, in front of a room full of strangers, that he can’t go through with the wedding. That he isn’t even sure he ever really loved you and that proposing was a mistake.

A mistake?! Like he couldn’t tell me that in Starhaven?

Him calling off our engagement would’ve been embarrassing enough. But ending our relationship twenty-one hundred miles away in front of a room full of strangers? Humiliating.

“Do you remember…umm…calling out to me?” He questions, brows drawn together and jaw tight. I narrow my eyes and tilt my head, trying to figure out what he’s not saying.

Pressing a hand to my forehead, I wince only to groan at the pounding that ensues. “No,” I grumble. “I just remember not handling Scott leaving me at the altar so well.”

“I know.” I whip my head toward him, regretting the moment I do. His gaze is filled with a myriad of emotions that I can’t read. “I’m so sorry he did that to you, Christy.”

Turning from me, he walks toward the window. I can see his shoulders rise and fall as he exhales.

I also can’t help but notice how broad his shoulders are or how his arms stretch the T-shirt he’s wearing to max capacity.

Those must be some really strong seams.

When he turns back to me and meets my gaze, my cheeks heat at being caught checking him out. But then I notice the worry lining his forehead, and my stomach twists.

“So…” he starts hesitantly. And my eyes are drawn back to his bottom lip as he chews on it. “I have some news.”

“News?” I parrot him for the thousandth time in five minutes. His mouth lifts and it’s suddenly too warm in here.

“Yes,” he says with a laugh. “News.”

Then he scrunches his face and spits out. “Soapparentlywegotmarriedlastnight.” His chest falls and I watch his face relax. “I wasn’t sure I could get that out.”

My brows furrow and I tilt my head. “You got it out okay, but I have absolutely no idea what you said.”

I watch him drag his hands over his cheeks and roughly rub up and down, nearly laughing at his obvious distress.

But then I see it.

The gold band on his left hand.

Slamming my hand against my lips, I squeak out. “Didyoujustsaywegotmarriedlastnight?!”

My world is falling out from under me.

“Yes!” He drops his head back and blows out a short breath. “That was so hard to say.”

The back of my eyes burn, and my throat tightens. In two steps, Beau is on the bed before me, wrapping his arms around me. Held against his warmth, his steady pulse beating against my cheek, a sense of safety comes over me.

“Kit. We’ll fix this. I promise. No one needs to know. I’ll tell my teammates that if anyone talks about the events of last night, they’ll rue the day they were born.”

“Your teammates?” I creak, dropping my head in my hands. Of course, he’s a professional athlete; I mean, only athletes have bodies like his. “Great! You’re a professional football player. I’m sure someone saw us together and took a picture. We’re probably all over the internet.”

He chuckles, and I glare at him. His face sobers, but his eyes twinkle. “Not a professional football player.” I relax, only to tense up at his next words. “A professional rugby player.”

“Noooo.” I push off of his chest, that’s too hard to be just muscles, and land on the bed. “How could you let this happen?!”

“Well, before the rest of the night got fuzzy, I distinctly remember you—” he lightly pokes me in the shoulder. “Calling out to me and kissing me soundly in front of my entire team.”

“What?!” My eyebrows shoot past my hairline.

“Yup.” He nods and a smirk creeps onto his lips. I want to wipe it away. “You were…umm…very excited to see me. Not that I’m complaining or anything. But—”

I lift my arm and slap him on his shoulder, but I might as well be a fly with what little impact it has. “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t funny at all…it was umm…quite nice.”

“Beau!” Screeching, I conceal my head with my hands, heat crawling up my entire body and my cheeks burning. “Please say you’re teasing me.”

“Of course, I’m teasing you.” Relief floods me. “But I’m not joking. Everything I just told you is true.”

Dropping my head in my hand, my stomach rolling, and I groan loudly.

“Kit,” Beau’s gentle voice is doing funny things to my insides. “Look at me.”

I shake my head. I’m never leaving this room or this state. I’ll just have to change my name and start a new life out here because there is no way I’m heading home as not only a jilted bride but now a wife. That’s just crazy talk.

I’d rather fall off the face of the earth than deal with the people in town talking.

A finger gently lifts my chin, but I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to let him see how humiliated I am. But I can’t stop a tear from rolling down my cheek. A rough finger wipes it away gently, and a sigh falls from me.

“Kit, please,” Beau’s deep voice is gentle and pleading. “Look at me.”

Unable to refuse the beseeching tone, I look up and nearly fall into the emotions I see reflected in his gaze.

“I promise I will fix this. I’ll call my attorney and have him reach out to you immediately. We’ll get this marriage annulled. And I’ll tell every one of our fourteen witnesses that if they breathe a word of anything that happened, I’ll make up some ridiculous locker room stories and leak them all to the press.”

I stare at him, unable to form words with all the thoughts galloping through my head. They’re moving so fast I can barely grasp them.

But there’s one that won’t stop repeating.

This is the man I could’ve married years ago.

Dang Luna Larkin.