My Vegas Groom (The Greene Family #3) - Piper Rayne Page 0,1

as if it’s beet red. I threw up in front of him and now I’m peeing in front of him? My God, what else did I do?

He doesn’t miss a beat, continuing on with the conversation. “So I got a call from my manager.”

“Manager?” At this point, I’m not sure if I should just stand up and assemble myself or continue to sit while he carries on a conversation.

“Turns out we weren’t exactly discreet with our marriage vows last night.” He turns on the light.

I squint as the feeling of being stabbed through both irises assaults me. I hurry up and wipe, flush, and pull up… his boxers and his T-shirt that I’m wearing. Great.

That means I’m in his hotel room. How the hell do I get to my own hotel room and escape this situation before things get worse?

He leans his hip against the bathroom counter, his toothbrush in his hand and squirting toothpaste on it. “I had the concierge bring us up some toiletries, you know, since you used my toothbrush last night.”

“I used your toothbrush?” The slight whine in my voice doesn’t surprise me. I’d like someone to lock me in a closet somewhere and not let me out until I agree to behave myself like my mom taught me.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s all good. I’m cool with it.”

“That’s wonderful. I’m glad my embarrassment doesn’t bother you, but it bothers me. Just so you know…”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Surprised me too when I woke up this morning and remembered, but you know…” He shrugs.

What is he talking about? There’s no way he’s considering staying married. He obviously married a very different Nikki Greene than the one he woke up to this morning.

“I think we need to talk about this. Maybe once you have some clothes on.” I wash my hands quickly because I cannot breathe in this sauna of a bathroom with him wearing a towel.

“It’s cool. We can talk like this.”

Sure, I’d be okay talking like that if I didn’t have an ounce of body fat on me too.

“I think we’ll wait because I’m… yeah… I just need to get some air.” I walk out of the bathroom.

A second later, he’s behind me with some remote control thing that opens all the curtains in the room to a view of the Vegas Strip in the daylight. I squint my eyes at the stabbing pain that assaults them from the light until I get used to it and then I gaze out the window.

The magnificent view is another clear sign that this is definitely not the room Molly and I booked. My friend and I are staying in a standard two double beds room, and this is a suite with living room couches and flat screens and a full bar. Where the hell is Molly and how did she let me get this far gone?

“I sense you might be freaking out?” he says.

I spot a picture of him and me with an Elvis impersonator between us. Won’t Mom and Dad be proud? I can’t even imagine what my dad would say. Then again, I don’t really care. I hate that asshole anyway.

In the picture, I’m wearing a white gown that looks too small and he’s wearing a blue tuxedo jacket. We’re both smiling and clearly drunk. Isn’t that illegal?

I pick up the picture. “You were serious about the whole marriage thing.”

“Yep, we’re married.”

“Can we get an annulment?” I look at him.

His expression falls like someone who bet their last dollar at the slots and spun garbage. “Well, clearly we got married on a whim.”

Okay, so he does have some reservations about this whole thing. Good.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine you’re happy about this.”

He shrugs.

What’s with the mixed signals?

“I don’t really believe in marriage,” I confess. I raise my hand as if I’m at an AA meeting. “Daddy issues.”

“You don’t believe in marriage?” He says it as though every girl dreams of marrying her soul mate someday. And maybe that’s true—until you find your dad cheating on your mom.

“No offense, but just looking at you, I’d say you’re not exactly the poster boy for marriage.”

His expression dims for a split second before he grins. “Don’t let the exterior fool you. I have a beating heart inside my chest and everything.”

I shake my head. This has got to be a dream. Tell me this is a dream. I want to pinch myself, but I’ve already embarrassed myself enough what with the peeing, throwing up, and using his toothbrush, and now I’m