Page 17 of Marrying Mr. Wentworth (Austen Hunks #3)

Later Friday morning — Christopher

T here are a lot of things I’ve done in my life that raised eyebrows. Dropping out of college to chase a dream with nothing but a bass guitar and a borrowed amp. Signing a record deal before I’d figured out how to pay my electric bill. Buying a house with six bedrooms and not a single fork.

But walking into the private brunch room in the hotel restaurant with Ariana at my side and saying, “Hey, by the way, we got married last night,” definitely cracked the top five.

Dead. Silence.

Luke’s mimosa froze halfway to his mouth.

Liam choked on a strawberry.

Jeremy just…blinked. Twice. Then looked at Ariana like she’d just told him she’d joined a biker gang.

Meg made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a screech and then clamped a hand over her own mouth. “You’re kidding. ”

Ariana crossed her arms, stone-faced. “Do I look like we’re kidding?”

“You look like you’re planning a homicide,” Ellie said helpfully.

“She is,” I muttered.

“I was, ” Ariana corrected, as she took a seat at the end of the long table and put her napkin in her lap.

I did the same.

Jeremy turned his head to look at us, jaw tight. “Someone explain. Now.”

I opened my mouth.

Ariana held up a hand. “I’ve got it.” Then, to the table, “Last night, I was very drunk. Someone”—she didn’t even glance at me—“let me wander into a wedding chapel, handed me a fake bouquet, and said, ‘Sure, this is a good idea.’”

“It was your idea,” I said calmly.

“Quiet, groom,” she snapped.

Liam snorted into his drink.

Ariana continued, cool as a courtroom. “I woke up this morning with a hangover, a marriage certificate, and a shiny gold ring. I am, unfortunately, now married to this man.” She gestured at me like I was the sad country song she thought she’d deleted from her playlist. “Temporarily,” she quickly added.

Jeremy went pale. Poor guy looked like he was going to pass out. “You… what? ”

“We’re staying married for forty-eight hours,” she said, already bracing for the reactions. “Then we file the annulment. And Wentworth here is going to hand over a quarter of a million dollars to the charity of my choice.”

“Oh, damn,” Liam said, clearly delighted.

I nodded. “If I can’t make her agree to give us a try, I lose. She files, I walk. No arguments.”

“And,” Ariana added through gritted teeth, “he donates $250,000 to the Guardian ad Litem program.”

“That’s sounds a lot like how I convinced Ellie to be my nurse last summer,” Luke interjected.

I scratched the back of my neck. “Yeah, that’s kinda where I got the idea.”

Ariana rolled her eyes.

“Careful, Ariana, I ended up falling for Luke,” Ellie added, wincing.

“Yeah, well, that’s not gonna happen here,” Ariana said, pointing back and forth between us.

Nick whistled low. “Holy shit. This is going to be interesting.”

“We’ve already signed the contract,” Ariana continued. “Witnessed by a notary at the front desk.”

Meg raised her hand. She was staring at me. “Wait. Christopher, you said you wanted her to give you a try. Does that mean you want Ariana to stay married to you?”

“Exactly,” I said. “I made a huge mistake breaking up with Ariana years ago. This is the only chance I’ll ever have to fix it.”

Courtney and Haley, or whatever the bridesmaids were named, made long awwwwww sounds while Ariana glared at them.

Jeremy looked between us like we’d both joined a cult.

“Let me get this straight,” he said to his sister. “You two have been legally married for less than twelve hours, and now you’re entering a forty-eight-hour emotional hostage situation in Vegas to see if he can convince you to stay married to him?”

“Yes,” I said.

“No,” Ariana said at the same time.

We glared at each other.

Liam stood and raised his mimosa. “To Mr. and Mrs. Hot Mess. May your trauma be our entertainment.”

The whole table toasted.

Ariana did not.

She just turned to me, eyes blazing. “Forty-seven hours and fifty-five minutes.” The countdown started right after the contract had been signed. I’d negotiated for that at the front desk.

And then Ariana picked up her empty plate and walked toward the huge buffet along the side of the room like the damn queen of controlled rage.

I watched her go, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

Let the games begin.