"Please get dressed," I plead."Or at least give me the name of the judge who married us, and I'll go track him down myself."I think about it."Maybe that's a better plan.You're likely to be recognized."
It's a miracle he wasn't recognized last night.
"Uh, why the fuck do we need to track down the judge, Ireland?He's a judge.He isn't going to go running to the press."
"If we catch him in time, we can convince him not to file the paperwork.Then we won't even need an annulment.It'll be like it never happened at all."
"An annulment?"Crue sits up slowly, his expression changing from mildly amused to outright pissed.
Crap.
"We're not getting a fucking annulment," he growls, jack-knifing off the bed.
I back up two steps, which doesn't seem to help calm him down any.He narrows his eyes, stalking me across the hotel room like he's a panther and I'm his prey.Danger and desire mingle in his gaze, and I'm not entirely sure which one captivates me most.It's a deadly combination on him, especially when he's still mostly naked.
"We're not getting a fucking divorce or any of that bullshit either.Forget it."
"That's not what I said," I protest, scurrying backward out of his reach.He's awful fast for a man with no pants."I said we need to be careful about who we tell in case things don't work out."
"Which suggests you plan on leaving me."He backs me into a corner, a look of triumph overtaking his expression.Now that I've got nowhere to go, he prowls toward me slowly, playing with his food exactly like a predator."You aren't fucking leaving me."
"I didn't say that either," I whisper, swallowing hard.Good grief.He's hot when he's cranky.And apparently, me trying to be logical is making him very, very cranky.But I wasn't talking about me leaving him.I was more worried about him deciding he didn't want to be tied to me for the rest of his life.
He was drinking last night, too.What happens when reality sets in and he realizes this isn't just a fun little story to tell, but something we really did?When the press finds out and plasters our faces all over the news?Is he going to regret it?Is he going to wish he'd never met me?
I don't want to be something else in his life he regrets.Or something else in his life that feels out of control to him.I want to be fair to him.Just because this is my dream doesn't mean it's his.Letting him go will shatter my heart into a million pieces, but I can't ask him to keep whatever crazy vows we made last night just because I want to keep him.
Besides, in my dreams, he chooses me because he can't live without me.He wasn't even freaking sober when he married me last night.That isn't the stuff dreams are made of, or happily-ever-afters are built on.
That's all I was trying to say.But I guess I said it wrong because now he's all cranky and growly.
"You signed the paperwork," he says, stopping in front of me.He plants one hand on the wall over my head, hooking his finger under my chin to tilt my head back with the other."You're stuck with me now, baby.Get used to it."
"You're insane, Crue.You know that, right?I'm offering you a chance to walk away from this whole thing a free man and you're saying no?"I gape at him like he's lost his mind."There's no way you want to sleep with me that freaking badly."
"You think I married you because I want to fuck you?"
"I…" I shake my head."No, of course not.I think you married me because you were drunk, and we both make insane decisions when tequila is involved."
"I wasn't drunk."
"What?"
"I wasn't drunk, Ireland.Youwere drunk.I wasn't."
"I…don't understand," I admit.
"It takes a whole helluva lot more alcohol to get me drunk than it does to get you wasted, baby," he murmurs with a grin."I was sober."
"You weren't drunk?"
"Nope."
I process this news for a moment.
"You were sober, and you still married me?"
"Yep."
