Given to a virtual stranger. All because she believed one little choice wouldn’t matter beyond a hangover.
The sound of her crying woke Bryce.
He sat up slowly, his head pounding, though he was no stranger to drinking. Squinting against the light, he spotted his pants and tugged them on before following the sound.
No. Not her.
He froze in the doorway. A sick twist tightened in his gut as fragmented memories from the night before flickered through his mind, just out of reach.
I swore I’d never mess with her.
The anguish on her face pulled at him—then the rumors he’d heard about her came rushing back.
It hit him. Hard.
Last night hadn’t just been her first time having a drunken one-night stand—it had been her first time.
A soft curse slipped from his lips as he glanced back toward the bed, revealing the stained proof of the truth he didn’t want to accept.
He didn’t speak at first—what could he say? Instead, he crouched beside her, gently sweeping her hair from her face. He rubbed her back as her body convulsed again, releasing the last of last night’s drinks.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “I’m so sorry, Lizzy. This... this was my fault. I take full responsibility.”
His kindness only made her cry harder.
He hadn’t made her drink. She had chosen.
He reached for her hand to calm her, and as their fingers met, both of them stilled.
Matching wedding bands.
Her breath caught. His entire body tensed.
“You said you wouldn’t sleep with anyone until there was a ring on your finger,” Bryce said quietly, with horror threading through his voice. “And I said, ‘Let’s get married.’”
He crossed the room in a rush. Sure enough, next to the lamp sat a single sheet of paper—a marriage certificate from the Paris Las Vegas Chapel.
Beth dry heaved.
“Only in Vegas can you go from tequila shots to ‘I do’ in under an hour,” he muttered, followed by a sharp string of curses.
Beth stumbled to the middle of the room, the sheet clutched tightly around her. She stared at him like the near stranger he was. A near stranger she was now legally bound to.
“No... no... NO.”
The word fell from her lips again and again. Her body buzzed with shock. Her mind couldn’t catch up. She couldn’t stop staring at the certificate, the single sheet of paper that now tethered her to him.
Silence thickened the space between them until a violent shiver ran through her—part cold, part panic.
Bryce moved to set the certificate back on the desk, then stepped toward her.
“You should get dressed,” he said softly.
But she didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
He stepped past her and into the bathroom. The sound of water running echoed a moment later. He gathered her clothes from around the room and placed them on the bathroom counter.
“Elizabeth,” he said gently, his voice slipping into his best bedside manner. “Look at me.”
