Page 14 of Burn Bag (Owens Protective Services #31)

KAVANAUGH

I blinked at her words, sure I had heard them wrong, but then her eyes stared sightlessly over my shoulder and she collapsed.

I barely caught her before she hit the ground.

Heart hammering in my chest, I adjusted her in my arms as someone cut the music, and then I was striding across the room to a less crowded area.

FNG was shoving his way through, along with Lock. Both were medics and would know what was wrong with her. I laid her down on the couch in the entry, turning to the woman at the hostess stand. “Lights!”

“No, keep the lights low,” FNG ordered, shoving me aside as he knelt beside my wife and started examining her. It only took a few seconds for her to come around, and when she did, she grinned and popped right back up.

“Whoa, lay down!” I ordered, feeling all sorts of things that I couldn’t explain. I barely knew this woman. What the hell was this feeling in my chest?

“I’m good. I swear. It happens.”

“Passing out?” I snapped.

She smiled brightly, as if this was totally normal. “Vasovagal Syncope. ”

“What?” I barked too harshly.

Lock sighed, running his hand through his hair. “It’s a sudden drop in blood pressure. She laid down and it restored the blood flow.”

I didn’t understand it at all. “What the fuck are you talking about? She just passed out!”

“It’s fine—” she started, but I glared at her, effectively cutting her off.

“It’s really harmless,” Lock explained. “It happens for any number of reasons. Locked knees, standing too long in one position, too much heat, seeing blood…”

I scrubbed my hand down my face, my heart still racing out of control. I’d seen women pass out before, but none of them had been my wife. “So, she’s okay?”

“I probably need to eat something,” Daphne shrugged, “but that’s just because I’m starving!”

She just sat there with a grin on her face as if that wasn’t the most terrifying ten minutes of my life. I barely knew this woman, and she passed out in front of me and took my damn heart to the fucking floor with her.

“Alright. Food and sitting. Not standing where you might pass out.”

She saluted me while standing and I immediately reached for her, afraid she was going to pass out again. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir,” I muttered, walking toward our table with my hand firmly wrapped around her arm. All eyes were on us as we made our way to the head table. Murmurs filtered through the crowd, and I turned to them with a grin. “She’s okay. Let’s eat!”

I didn’t get the reaction I had hoped for, which was for everyone to go back to their dates and forget about us, but I shoved that aside for now and focused on the woman in front of me.

“Here.” I guided her over to our table and snapped my fingers at the waiter, motioning for him to bring us food. I didn’t care if it was fucking bread. She needed food, and she was going to get it. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? ”

“Totally,” she said, waving me off. “It’s been happening since I was a kid.”

That didn’t sound right. “You just randomly pass out, and this has been happening since you were a kid?”

She shrugged like it was no big deal, snatching a slice of bread from the basket the waiter just placed on the table. “What can I say? I like to be adventurous.”

“That’s not fucking adventurous,” I scowled, pissed at how nonchalant she was about the whole thing. “You could hit your head or?—”

“Yes, I’m aware, and usually, it’s fine. If I feel it coming on, I just lay down and it passes. But I was sort of distracted. You know, you had just kissed me and all.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I argued.

“Well, I didn’t recognize the symptoms because…” She cleared her throat and a blush stained her cheeks. “The kiss was very good. Dizzying.”

I gaped at her in horror. “I did this? I made you dizzy?”

“No, silly. The kiss was so good that I mixed up the feelings of the kiss with the beginnings of the syncope.”

Oh. Well, that made it a little better, but still, I couldn’t help but feel a little responsible.

“Relax, Will. I’m fine.”

Maybe she hit her head when she fell. “My name isn’t Will.”

“I know, but I’m not calling you Bradford. It sounds too pretentious.”

“Then call me Kavanaugh. Everyone else does.”

Her nose wrinkled at that and she shook her head. Those green eyes of hers reminded me all too much of another woman with green eyes, but I tamped those old feelings down and focused on the woman in front of me.

“I can’t call you Kavanaugh. That’s like…like calling a dog or something.”

“It’s my name, and I’m hardly a dog. ”

“No, Will will do the trick.” She snorted and bounced her head around as she talked. “Will will…maybe Willy.”

“Do not call me Willy.”

“So, what’s on the menu for dinner? I’m starving!”

“When was the last time you ate?”

She thought about it for a moment, and that instantly let me know it was too long ago.

I sighed in frustration. “You know, I didn’t think I’d be marrying a woman I’d have to watch over.”

“Oh, you do not have to watch over me,” she snorted. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it all my life.”

“Are you kidding? You pass out at the drop of a hat?—”

“That’s not true?—”

“And God knows the last time you ate. Do you ever take care of yourself?”

“I always take care of myself. Either way, this is going to be good. Trust me. You’ll barely notice I’m here. You can do your thing and I won’t get in the way.”

“That wasn’t really the point of getting married,” I grumbled, though she did have a point.

“Oh, you wanted like a marriage marriage. I did not get that from Emily.”

I winced at the name. Just hearing it reminded me that right now I was supposed to be married to the woman of my dreams. Instead…instead I wasn’t sure what I was getting into.

When the food finally arrived, she dug in, helping herself to everything in front of her like she hadn’t eaten in a week. I’d never seen such a tiny woman scarf down so much food.

I took the opportunity to check her out as she ate and compared her to the woman I was supposed to marry.

Green eyes would be the death of me. How did I keep ending up with women who had the same eye color?

At least her hair wasn’t red. Long blonde locks were pinned up all over her head in a twirly pattern that I didn’t understand and would probably take forever for her to get out.

With her hair up, it accentuated her long, slender neck and somewhat bony shoulders.

Not that it mattered. She was still gorgeous. Where Emily had a straight nose, Daphne had one of those short button noses that scrunched up when she laughed. And she was tall. I had wanted a woman much shorter. Not that she was too tall, but she didn’t fit the profile.

In fact, nothing about her fit the profile.

“What?” she asked as she shoved a forkful of lasagna in her mouth. “Do I have something on my face?”

Red sauce. It was…everywhere. I snatched my napkin and wiped her mouth as she leaned over her plate, trying not to splatter on her gorgeous dress.

“Is that Emily’s dress?”

She nodded, grabbing her own napkin and wiping her face again. She bobbed her head back and forth as she finished chewing, then swallowed and grabbed her champagne, guzzling the rest of the glass. “Why go to waste, you know? She wouldn’t be able to return it.”

I glanced down at the ring on her finger, watching as it sparkled in the dim light. I couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. I married a complete stranger. I needed another drink. Maybe ten.

I raised my hand and motioned over the waiter. “Another round.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And keep them coming!”

Daphne quirked her eyebrow at me as if she knew what I was doing. When the drinks arrived, she lifted her glass in a toast. “To what may come.”

I clinked my glass with hers, but the toast was more ominous than one of cheer, and as I took my first drink, I had a feeling this was going to be one decision I would highly regret.

The bright light pierced my eyeballs like a sharp knife digging into my retinas. Groaning, I rolled over and fell off the bed, landing with a thud on a very soft body.

“I’m sleeping,” the woman groaned, pushing her delicate hands against my chest.

What the fuck was going on? I peeled my eyes open and stared down at the mountain of white that laid sprawled out on the floor. I rolled off the mountain and stumbled to my feet, nearly falling into the open door.

I had the most fucked up dream that I had gotten married last night. Married to a woman I didn’t know. That couldn’t be. I was supposed to marry Emily. Did that happen? Based on the amount of alcohol running through my system, it couldn’t have happened. That had to have been a dream.

But then why was I wearing a tux?

“Holy shit,” I groaned, holding my head as a marching band rattled through my mind. “How much did I drink last night?”

“Can you stop shouting? God, my head hurts.”

“What?” I stumbled back over to the woman and peeled back the layers of white. Recognition slammed into me as I saw her beautiful face nestled in the silky fabric. “Holy shit. It wasn’t a dream.”

“What wasn’t a dream?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes, smearing her makeup. “Why is it so bright in here?”

I stumbled over to the window and pulled the blinds, making the room a tad less bright. “I need to invest in blackout shades.”

The woman on the floor groaned as she sat up, wincing as she tugged at her dress. “Crap, I can barely breathe. Help me up.”

I did as she asked, barely keeping myself upright as I hoisted her to her feet. She spun, trying to reach the back of her dress, but she looked like a dog chasing its tail.

“Wait, wait,” I muttered, grabbing her shoulders to stop her from spinning. My large fingers fumbled with the laces at the back of her dress, pulling at them, but only making it tighter. I heard an audible gasp as it pinched tight around her ribcage.

“Sort of making it worse,” she gasped. “Breathe…need air…”