I tilted my head in surprise. “Are you ... covering your tits?”
Her eyes darted away from me. “Yes. I can’t find my bra. Have you seen it?”
“Wow. I thought you’d at least be less of a prude as a wife. I guess Sober You is not a reflection of Drunk You.”
Her jaw fell open, and I saw her half-naked body quiver. “Did you just say ‘as a wife?’”
“Yep. Until till death do us part ... or something like that. I’m not sure the exact vows we exchanged last night.”
Holy shit does she not remember what happened last night?
Slowly, she raised her left hand to her eye level.
I stepped toward her and gripped her hand. “Is it big enough for you?” I asked.
“Is what big enough?” she came back with, which surprised me.
“The ring, silly. What else would you be think ... oh.” I shook my head. “I see.”
She tore her hand away and stepped back. “This ... did we really get hitched?”
“You seriously don’t remember?” I asked, genuinely curious.
She shook her head. “It’s coming back to me, now. Or I don’t want to believe it’s true. Some combination of those two.”
I chuckled. “Yes, our marriage is real. Are you ready for the happily ever after?”
“Dear God, what have I done?” she asked. “You don’t even remember my name.”
I smiled. “Yes, I do. It’s something ... something with a D. Dulce, maybe?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I am, actually. Doctor Vidal. How could I forget you are my special little KCB—Kit Cat Bar? Besides, we’re not even a one night stand. We’re atwo-night stand.”
“Somehow, that’s not comforting. And you are not shortening me to an acronym.”
There was something pretty cute about how she was still covering her breasts like we were in the Garden of Eden. “You seem really shaken up. Do you want to get an annulment?”
She visibly tensed, not making eye contact with me, still glancing around for her clothes.
“My Irish Catholic grandmother is sick in her grave right now. First a shotgun wedding, then an annulment in less than twenty-four hours.”
I cringed. A marriage was one tick in my favor fornotbeing traded. A divorce was not. My master plan was underway, but we needed to stick to it.
“But,” I reasoned, “She is pretty happy with us that we waited until marriage to have sex, I bet.”
She didn’t seem amused.
I smiled.Anythingto stay on the team. I realized this plan was a little crazy. But in my experience, for a plan to work it had to be a littleout there. Or else your enemies would see it coming. The world, which seemed to be aligning against me, would not see it coming that I married a sweet, caring doctor. Plus, I would help her out, too.
Reaching to my nightstand, I plugged in my phone, which had died last night.
Then my eyes caught a piece of clothing under one of the pillows. I pulled it out. It was a bra.
“Looking for this?” I asked, waving it in the air.
She nodded and walked over to me, ready to take it.
