The Accidental Newlywed Game Read online

  She finally rolled over to face him and he saw the same pained expression on her face that he’d had when he first woke.

  “Ow.”

  “Honor.”

  Then her eyelids peeked open. “Owen?”

  “Yeah.”

  She shot up in bed. “Owen! What are you doing in my bed?”

  “This isn’t your bed. Actually, it’s not my bed, either. I’m not exactly sure where we are.”

  She pulled the sheet up tight and clutched it like a favorite blanket. “What? What happened last night?”

  “I was hoping you might remember.”

  She frowned and rubbed her temple. “I remember tequila. Shots. Lots of them. And then a club and dancing and more drinks. And not much after that.”

  His lips curved as memories of bright lights and moving hips came back to him. “Oh, right. Dancing.”

  “Stop smiling, Owen. We are naked in bed together.”

  Which to him wasn’t a bad thing. But from the look of horror on Honor’s face, to her it was. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. We got toasted and obviously fell into bed. I guess it happens.”

  “It does not happen. Not to me.”

  “It’s not like I do this every weekend, either.”

  She blew out a breath, sending one of her curls sailing in front of her face. He so wanted to reach out and tuck it behind her ear, but he didn’t think that would be a good idea right now.

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” she said. “Would you turn around?”

  “Sure.”

  He flipped over on his side and waited until he heard the bathroom door close. He rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, lacing his fingers behind his head. It was then that he felt the metal on his finger. He lifted his hand and saw a thin band of gold encircling his left ring finger.

  Huh.

  His left ring finger.

  His Left. Wedding. Ring. Finger.

  Ohhhh, fuck.

  He heard Honor’s scream coming from the bathroom at the same time the realization hit him. He threw the sheet off and barely had time to climb into his boxer briefs before she pulled the door open. She was wrapped in a towel and waved her left hand in his face.

  “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like,” she said.

  He gave her an apologetic look and held up his left hand. “It might be?”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s some joke. It has to be.”

  “Even drunk, we wouldn’t do that, would we?”

  “Of course not.”

  “But we should check just to be sure. I mean, if we got married, there’d be paperwork, right?”

  She pointed her finger at him. “You’re right. There would be.” They both scrambled over to the desk, where all their clothes were piled up. Underneath their clothes and her purse was a bag from Chapel of the Bells wedding chapel.

  They looked at the bag, then at each other. Honor grabbed it and pulled out the contents. There was a veil along with candles and an envelope. She handed the envelope to Owen, who opened it and stared at the contents before focusing his attention on Honor.

  “We got married last night.”

  Honor put her hand to her mouth, dropped the bag, ran into the bathroom and shut the door. He walked over and tried the knob, but it was locked.

  He was pretty sure he heard vomiting.

  This for sure wasn’t the way he pictured his honeymoon going.

  CHAPTER

  three

  AFTER EMPTYING HER stomach of whatever she drank last night, Honor felt somewhat better, but she desperately needed a shower. She also needed to talk to Owen, to figure out what happened and what their next steps should be. But a shower had to come first.

  Okay, sure, she was probably avoiding that conversation by showering, but the hot water made her feel a little more human, even though she felt naked as all get-out after last night with Owen. And well, she was naked. But at least she was a bit more refreshed, and ready to face him. When she opened the door, she saw her clothes all neatly folded sitting right outside the bathroom door.

  “Owen?”

  There was no answer. Had he left? He wouldn’t do that, would he? Not without talking to her.

  She grabbed the clothes, climbed into yesterday’s underwear—yuck—and her now-wrinkled dress and went to dig her brush out of her purse, then combed out the tangles in her hair. She might look a wreck and she might be in yesterday’s clothes, but at least she was clean. If only she had a cup of coffee.

  The door opened and Owen walked in carrying a bag and two cups of coffee.

  “I figured we needed coffee and carbs, so I got us bagels.”

  She sighed in relief, though whether it was for the coffee or the fact he hadn’t left her, she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t have the mental capacity right now to figure it out.

  She was married. To Owen. How had that happened? Where had their brain cells been when they’d decided that was a good idea?

  Before they figured it out, she pulled the top off the coffee and took a sip, realizing Owen had added double cream—just the way she liked it. How had he known?

  “Thank you for this.”

  He dug into the bag and pulled out a bagel, handing it to her. “You’re welcome. Are you feeling all right?”

  “Much better now, thanks. Where are we, by the way?”

  “The Sahara, which apparently is close to our wedding chapel.”

  She grimaced, her stomach rolling. She took a bite of the bagel, hoping if she ate something it would prevent her stomach from revolting again. “What did we do last night? Other than getting drunk and married?”

  She didn’t ask the sex question, figuring there was enough on the table to deal with right now.

  He swallowed a bite of bagel and shrugged. “Hell if I know, Honor. I vaguely remember us doing a few rounds of shots at our hotel, then heading out and hitting some clubs. Did we ever eat anything?”

  “I don’t remember dinner. That was probably our downfall.”

  “Yeah. It’s been a long time since I drank like that. Like maybe since my misspent youth. I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. I went along for the ride. And the wedding, too, apparently.” She ate another piece of bagel, though for some reason it wasn’t making her feel better.

  “I should have done a better job taking care of you. That’s on me.”

  She hated seeing the look of guilt and remorse on his face. “Not everything is your fault, Owen.”

  “Yeah, but I already screwed up big with Erin. And now you. This is becoming a trend, and not a good one. I’ll fix this.”

  “No, we’ll fix this. We’ll . . . I don’t actually know what we’ll do, but we’ll do something.”

  “We should get an annulment, I guess.”

  Ouch. “Can we do that?”

  “Sure we can. I mean, I think we can. I don’t know the rules of annulments. I also don’t know what happened last night, but it’s not like we were engaged or in love or anything. It was a drunken mistake. An annulment should be easy, right?”

  Nothing like getting married and dumped all within a twenty-four-hour period.

  Or less.

  Stop it, Honor. He’s not dumping you. You’re not even a couple.

  She finally nodded. “An annulment should be easy. Then it’s like this whole thing never happened.”

  The look of misery on his face mirrored her own discomfort.

  “I guess that would be the best thing,” he said. “It took your family a long time to forgive me for what I did to Erin. I can’t imagine how pissed they’d be if they found out I got you drunk and married you.”

  That gnawing pain in her belly was becoming less about the hangover and more about feeling as if she’d just been wedded, bedded and shed.

  The trouble was, she couldn’t remember anything about last night, so she’d missed the entire wedded-and-bedded part.

  And didn’t that just suck?

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess we head back to our hotel. I don’t know about you, but I could use a shower and a change of clothes. And a more substantial breakfast.”

  She liked the change-of-clothes idea. “You’re right. We’ll probably think more clearly if we eat something.”

  They grabbed their things and headed out, got in a taxi out front and rode in silence back to the hotel.

  Honor wondered what Owen was thinking. Was he panicked, hoping they could end this whole marriage thing as soon as humanly possible? He sure seemed to have a lot of regrets.

  For herself, she was mainly . . . numb. She stared down at the gold ring circling her finger, then glanced over at Owen’s hand. He hadn’t yanked the ring off and stuck it in his pocket—at least not yet—so that was something.

  When he reached over and took hold of her hand, the shock of sensation nearly had her jumping out of the back seat of the taxi. She forced herself to remain still as she met his gaze.

  “It’s all going to be okay, Honor. I promise.”

  He didn’t let go of her hand, and she forced herself not to react to his touch, though it was hard not to, because her entire body was reacting with a surprising blast of heat.

  What exactly had happened between them last night?

  And why couldn’t she remember?

  What a disaster. She was never touching alcohol again.

  CHAPTER

  four

  OWEN HAD HOPED that getting back to his hotel room and taking a hot shower would clear his head. Unf
ortunately, the shower offered him no clarity, but at least he was cleaner now.

  He did know the one thing he wasn’t going to do was abandon Honor and let her think he wanted to get away from her. In fact, that was the furthest thing from his mind. If he was honest, he wanted to stay close to her.

  This whole debacle was confusing as hell, coupled with the fact that he couldn’t remember how it had all come about, or what had happened between doing some shots and waking up in a strange hotel room, naked. And married.

  At least he’d married Honor. If he was going to get married, he couldn’t think of any woman he’d want to be with more than her. Which was kind of a fucked-up realization since he’d once been engaged to Honor’s sister Erin. And that hadn’t turned out so well.

  Then again, circumstances had been different.

  Excuses, excuses, Owen. You bailed. You got scared about your cancer diagnosis and you bailed.

  He sucked in a breath, determined not to rehash past mistakes. Instead, he got dressed and went downstairs to the lobby to meet Honor. He saw her at the entrance to the restaurant, waving at him, so he walked over to meet her.

  “There was a line, so I thought I’d go ahead and get in it,” she said.

  “Good idea.”

  She had a lot more color in her face now, and she’d changed into black leggings and a black-and-white tee, along with tennis shoes. Owen noticed she still wore her wedding band. Then again, so did he, though he had no idea why. They’d both agreed to an annulment.

  That pang in his stomach had to be a combination of hunger and hangover.

  They finally got seated, and both ordered coffee and orange juice. Owen picked up the menu. “I want to order everything,” Honor said. “I think my body is trying to tell me something.”

  He looked up from the menu. “Yeah, it’s telling you we forgot to eat dinner last night.”

  “And drank too much.”

  “And ended up married.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “I still can’t believe that either of us would have allowed that to happen. We’re both so levelheaded.”

  He laughed. “Tequila, Honor. The evils of tequila.”

  “The shots were your idea.”

  He gave her a critical eye. “I said one round. I might not remember everything, but I’m pretty sure the second—and third—rounds were your idea.”

  “Were they?” She frowned. “I don’t remember that part.”

  Their server came over and they ordered their food. After he left, Honor said, “My stomach rumbled just ordering.”

  “Same.” He sipped his coffee and then took a long swallow of orange juice.

  “So, what are we going to do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I thought today I might take a drive and see some of the desert sights. You want to come along?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “That wasn’t at all what I was asking.”

  “I know what you were asking, Honor. But until I get a full load of carbs and protein, I’m just not prepared to give it a great deal of thought.”

  “That’s fair.” She sipped her coffee and flipped through her phone, and then after a long fifteen minutes of awkward silence—something Owen had never suffered with Honor before—the server brought their breakfast.

  They both dove into their meals. Over food they talked, though it was mostly about innocuous things like what they’d done while they were in Vegas, both of them tiptoeing around the disaster of last night.

  He devoured everything on his plate, and in the end he felt a lot better. His headache was gone and that gnawing ache in his stomach had disappeared.

  Ever since his cancer diagnosis he’d taken good care of his body. He drank beer, but he hadn’t indulged in hard liquor much at all. Until last night, anyway. He didn’t know what had made him suggest doing shots with Honor.

  Bad judgment, obviously, something he thought he’d gotten past. Apparently not.

  And now, once again, he was going to have to pay the price for making a reckless decision. And Honor was going to have to pay that price, too.

  When would he learn his lesson? When would he stop hurting the Bellini women in his life?

  CHAPTER

  five

  OKAY, SO OBVIOUSLY doing impulsive things with Owen was going to be a standard.

  Over breakfast they decided that instead of taking a desert drive, they’d check out of the hotel and just drive all the way home to Oklahoma. They figured it would give them plenty of time to talk things through and make a plan for ending their marriage. Owen had contacted the rental car company and made arrangements to drop the car at the airport in Oklahoma City. Then they’d packed up and checked out.

  Honor was so happy to get out of Las Vegas and focus her attention on the incredible scenery all around her. The sun shone brightly on the desert landscape, which made her feel as if they were driving past spikes of various golden hues.

  So here they were, driving along the highway, just her and her new husband.

  She couldn’t help but fiddle with the gold band on her finger. She had a husband. She was married. Sure, it had been a drunken impulsive thing, but it was still a legal contract. She’d laugh if the whole idea of it weren’t so ludicrous. And life-altering. And just a tiny bit panic-inducing.

  They had planned to discuss it over breakfast, but they hadn’t. In fact, neither of them had said much of anything. Hunger and hangover had taken precedence, and they’d both mostly eaten in silence. She figured they’d talk about it on the drive. But so far, they’d been in the car for an hour and a half and Owen hadn’t said much of anything other than pointing out interesting landscapes.

  But, finally, he pulled over onto a vista where people were taking pictures. They got out and she stretched, arching her back, realizing her muscles were sore as if she’d had some major workout the day before.

  Or maybe the night before. She eyed Owen, wondering just what exactly had transpired between them last night. Sex didn’t typically make her muscles feel as if she’d done a huge workout, so just what kind of sexual calisthenics had they engaged in? She’d been in too much of a panic this morning to survey the hotel room to see if her ass prints were on the hotel room window or if her handprints were on the bathroom mirror. Had they done it in the shower? On the chair? Up against the wall? Owen had some fine lean muscle. She’d just bet he could hold her nicely up against the wall while he—

  “Honor. Did you want to get some pics?”

  She cleared her throat—and her mind of hot sex visuals. She’d been staring off into space. “Oh. Sure. Yes, definitely.”

  Good God, woman. Where is your head?

  Back in the wedding-night hotel. Naked, and doing dirty things with her husband, obviously.

  She scanned out over the incredible scenery and took a few quick photos, but her mind was elsewhere. They got back into the car and she buckled her seat belt.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She looked over at him and smiled. “I’m fine.”

  It wasn’t long before they reached the canyon where they were going to take a short hike. Owen had suggested it this morning to break up the monotony of driving. And, since they were driving, they might as well enjoy the beautiful area they were driving through.

  She saw no reason to disagree with that.

  They’d ordered a picnic lunch to bring along, so Owen grabbed it and they started walking. She was glad she’d worn her tennis shoes. She’d rather have her hiking boots, but they weren’t going to do any tough-terrain hiking, instead planning on just ogling the scenery. And since she was behind Owen, his very fine ass made for some incredible scenery at that.

  Really, Honor, control your urges.

  Maybe it was all the sex she had last night. That sex she couldn’t remember but clearly wanted more of.

  But the cliff faces were amazing and colorful and this time she did manage to relax long enough to get some incredible photos. They found a flat spot about an hour in and Owen laid down a blanket that came with their pre-purchased picnic. They sat to eat their lunch. Honor took a bite of her turkey wrap, enjoying the soft breeze blowing around her. The food was good, but there was an uncomfortable silence between them that she didn’t care for. She and Owen had always been able to talk—about anything and everything. They’d been friends since childhood. He might have once been in love with her older sister, but he’d been her buddy forever.