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  Lydia blinked and scrolled up, to see Sadie had texted several times. Each time a little bit more frantic. It had graduated from what are you doing? to are you dead in a ditch? since last night. Or rather, early this morning.

  And when she reached the top she saw exactly why.

  There were texts explaining the photograph, but Lydia didn’t need to read them. Because a picture was worth a thousand drunk texts.

  There she was with Colton, arms around his neck, but it wasn’t Ace’s in the background of this picture. Nope. It was a chapel. A tacky, Vegas chapel. She was in her bridesmaid dress and Colton was wearing jeans and a T-shirt.

  Picture Lydia was holding her hand partly in front of the screen, displaying the very ring that was on real Lydia’s finger, up close and blurry. She was grinning like—well, like an idiot. Colton’s eyes were half-closed, a big smile on his face, and his hand was resting high on her waist, perilously close to her breast.

  “I guess...” She sat there, completely stunned, feeling dazed and more than a little confused. “I guess there was a wedding yesterday after all.”

  As she stared at the picture, it all started coming back in a full color blur. They’d gambled, they’d drunk, and it had all gotten increasingly...hilarious.

  They were in Vegas! She was supposed to be the bridesmaid in a wedding that hadn’t happened! He was a groom with no bride, and he had spent half the day in a damned tux—his words exactly—and that was just wrong.

  So they’d thought the discrepancy should be remedied. And then...sometime, just before midnight, she had stumbled into a chapel on the Las Vegas strip, and she, Lydia Carpenter, front-running candidate for mayor of Copper Ridge, levelheaded community pillar and responsible citizen, had not been a bridesmaid for the third time. No, instead, she had been a bride. And she had married Colton West.

  CHAPTER TWO

  COLTON WEST COULDN’T remember the last time he had gotten blackout drunk. Maybe college? Maybe. It was hard to say if in those scenarios he had passed out because of the alcohol or because they were still awake at five in the morning after some ridiculous party.

  Though at none of those ridiculous parties had he married anyone.

  And, judging by the messages overflowing his phone, he had gotten married last night.

  Which wouldn’t be that weird since yesterday was supposed to be his wedding day. The weird part about it was that he had married a bridesmaid. Not the bride.

  And not just any bridesmaid.

  Lydia Carpenter.

  There were three other bridesmaids. All of whom he was more likely to get drunk and marry in Vegas than Lydia. Or at least, he would have thought so if asked prior to his hasty Vegas marriage.

  Actually, had he been asked prior to his hasty Vegas marriage he would have said there was no way on earth he would ever get drunk and marry anyone spur of the moment. He was not a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy. Colton was a planner. Colton had never set one foot out of line.

  After his older brother had taken off and completely abandoned the family, it had been up to Colton to establish himself as the likely heir to his father’s business. It had been up to him to be the son his father needed. And he had taken that duty very seriously.

  Hell, the wedding yesterday was a prime example of that.

  The wedding that had originally been scheduled, not the wedding that had ultimately taken place.

  This was a nightmare. Unacceptable in every way.

  So take it back.

  It was the only thing to do. Unlike his brother, who had run when he didn’t want to deal with his life, and unlike his father, who had buried his mistakes, Colton would meet his head-on.

  He looked up from his phone at his scowling—he winced—wife.

  “Well, I can honestly say this is the last situation I ever expected to find myself in,” he said.

  “No way,” she said. “You do not get to look this annoyed about the situation. This is your fault.”

  “How is this my fault?”

  “Granted my memory is questionable, but if I remember right, we were drinking in Ace’s. Then you were the one who suggested we go somewhere. You were the one who said you had the time off and wanted an escape. You were the one that facilitated the car to take us to the airport and said we needed to get a nonstop flight to somewhere that would be fun. And lo, we boarded a plane to Vegas.”

  “At no point did you say no,” he said, wishing he could remember the events a little bit clearer. Maybe she had been hesitant. Maybe she had said no and he’d talked her into it.

  But he was going to bluff his way straight through, dammit.

  She folded her arms across her chest, crinkling the ridiculous lavender fabric of the bridesmaid dress she was wearing. One of Natalie’s choices. And honestly, he hadn’t cared. Not about the entire spectacle that she had put together with his mother from top to bottom. It hadn’t concerned him at all. The only thing that mattered to him was that Natalie was an appropriate choice. She’d been raised in a family like his. Highly visible in the community, with a lot of concern given to appearances. There were expectations placed on her as the daughter of the long-term mayor, and they matched the expectations placed on him. Plus, he was attracted to her. He liked her. A lot.

  He’d liked her more before the wedding plans had started to get really intense. But, ultimately he had been confident in her as his choice of bride. So, the wedding had seemed like an incidental detail to him. Something that would have to take place to appease his mother, Natalie’s family and the populace of Copper Ridge, before he could get on with his life.

  He hadn’t paid attention to things like bridesmaid dresses. And now he wondered if he hadn’t paid enough attention to Natalie, either. Well, obviously, since she had left him standing there at the altar without anything other than a quick apology text.

  Actually, it hadn’t even really been an apology.

  One line, obliterating a relationship that he had spent two years building. A relationship that was supposed to shore up the foundation of his life. And she’d just knocked it all down.

  I can’t do this.

  That was all she’d said.

  Fast-forward a little bit—through scenes he couldn’t even remember—and here they were.

  He swung his legs down over the side of the bed, something beneath his foot crinkling as he did. He shifted it, groaning when he saw what was there. “You didn’t happen to wake up fully clothed, did you?” he asked Lydia.

  Her mouth was a flat, angry line, which was par for the course with her. At least when he was talking to her. “No,” she said.

  “Dammit,” he said, looking down at the condom wrapper that stood as pretty hard evidence as to what had happened after their hasty wedding. He couldn’t remember that portion of the evening any better than he could the hours before.

  It had been...well, it had been a long damn time since he’d had sex. Something to do with Natalie wanting their wedding night to be special.

  Well, his wedding night had certainly been something.

  He just couldn’t remember what. And here he was, looking at a very rumpled, rather attractive woman, not having a clue in hell what had happened between them.

  She shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze. “What?”

  “I don’t suppose you remember last night?” he asked. “After we got here, I mean?”

  “No,” she said, her voice tight.

  That was very Lydia. Rigid. Tight. Determined and single-minded in ways that were designed to dig beneath your skin and keep digging until you crawled out of said skin and left it behind. Something about the way she was made him feel like he needed to take a step back from her. And even then, that space between them always felt alive. He didn’t like it.

  “Maybe we used a condom to make ballo
on animals?” he suggested.

  Her face turned bright red. He wasn’t entirely certain he had ever seen Lydia flustered, but that was the only word for what she was right now. And something about that grabbed him, hard and fast, low in his gut.

  A memory of something. Or maybe just a fleeting reminder of fantasies he didn’t let himself have. Images that pushed at the back of his brain. That he never, ever let come forward.

  Just what it would be like to see her lose all that control. To him.

  He gritted his teeth, ignoring the fact that his dick was deciding to wake up. Ignoring those thoughts that he couldn’t afford to have. Not now. Not ever.

  “Somehow, I doubt it,” she said, clipped. “Did you find...”

  He bent over and picked up the wrapper, holding it up.

  Lydia’s entire frame seemed to sag. She clutched her head, a low moan escaping her lips. “I don’t do things like this,” she said.

  “You think I do?”

  “No. But I really don’t do things like this. I am not spontaneous. I am not irresponsible. I do not...sleep with men that I don’t like.”

  He snorted. “I don’t usually sleep with women with superiority complexes.”

  And he’d ended up with Natalie how? But she didn’t ask that out loud because she thought it best not to poke that particular beehive. “Why? In case they conflict with yours?”

  This was a return to form for her. Rumpled she might be, in yesterday’s dress, with her makeup drifting down her cheeks and her dark hair fluffier than usual, but she was buttoned-down inside. Completely. Thoroughly.

  He’d damn well let her stay that way.

  “Listen, I think it’s pretty easy to get an annulment,” he said. “Especially here.”

  She looked stricken. “You can’t get an annulment if you...consummated, can you?”

  “We don’t have to tell them that we consummated,” he said. “Hell, you don’t even remember. Maybe we didn’t.”

  “There is a condom wrapper,” she said, her cheeks getting even redder. “And you are...you are naked.”

  He looked down at the blanket that was covering his lap. He was suddenly very aware of how little was between them. No one was here. He wasn’t wearing clothes. And Natalie had run off, so he didn’t even have a fiancée as a buffer.

  No, you have a wife now. Good job.

  “Turn around,” he bit out.

  She obeyed with no argument. He stood, holding the sheet up in front of himself and surveying the room, in search of his clothes.

  “If it helps,” she said, “I found my dress on top of the bar.”

  He rubbed his hand over his forehead. He didn’t do this. He didn’t drink to excess, and he didn’t have casual sex. When his brother had abandoned the family it had been up to Colton to hold it all together. To hold the people he loved most together.

  Then, a few weeks before his wedding he’d found out that his father had had an affair that had resulted in a child who was now Colton’s age.

  Now he was holding everyone together from that latest blow, too. His mother was so fragile one more thing would break her completely.

  And this morning was evidence of why he had to live life the way he did. With control. With a code. Without it, he wasn’t much better than the other men in his family.

  “We can’t get an annulment,” Lydia continued.

  “We sure as hell can.” He spotted his pants and dropped the sheet, striding across the room and taking hold of them, tugging them on as quickly as possible.

  “We sure as hell can’t,” Lydia said, turning around, her eyes going to his chest, then determinedly to his face. “I don’t know about you, but I texted quite a few people last night to let them know about our happy news.”

  “Well, that isn’t my problem, princess.”

  Seriously, he must still be a little bit drunk. He had no idea where the endearment had come from. Not that he was using it as an endearment.

  “So, your plan is to return to town and let everybody know that we got married by accident? Tell them that we got drunk and made a mistake? People are going to assume we hooked up. Correctly, if the evidence is any indication.”

  “What’s your plan?” he asked. “Staying married?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly my plan.”

  “Maybe you hit your head last night.”

  She treated him to a withering glare, her brown eyes full of scorn. “Obviously I sustained some kind of head injury, Colton, if I slept with you,” she said.

  He offered her a tight smile. “Maybe we both hit our heads.”

  “Whatever. I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice but I’m currently running for mayor.”

  He laughed. “Oh, I know. There’s no possible way I could have missed that, since that little stunt almost ruined the wedding.”

  It was her turn to laugh. Hysterically. “First of all, it’s hardly a stunt. Second, I only almost ruined your wedding. Natalie actually ruined your wedding by not showing up.”

  “You are her bridesmaid—her friend—and you started a campaign against her father.”

  “Can you honestly tell me you think an...institution like Richard Bailey is the best thing for Copper Ridge? He’s entrenched in old-school ideas. He doesn’t know the new, vibrant economy the way that I do—”

  “Are you actually stumping for votes right now?”

  “No,” she said, her tone fierce. “I’m trying to explain to you why this annulment can’t happen. We have to find a way to spin the marriage, Colton, otherwise my campaign is doomed. I cannot come out of this looking flighty or like marriage is a joke to me or something.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “This kind of thing would be serious for anyone, but as a woman it’s even worse. The fact that I was single was never in my favor, because people questioned if I was cold or somehow felt above marriage and family and I just... This is the worst. I have to somehow manage to not look like a crazy person or I’m doomed.”

  “Uh-huh.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “And can you explain to me why I should care about the state of your campaign?”

  “Well, I don’t know. It could be because I am the best thing for the town, and that isn’t me being full of myself. It’s a fact.”

  “I’ll reserve my judgment on that.”

  “Go ahead. While you’re at it go ahead and reserve judgment on whether or not the sky is blue.”

  “Honey, we live on the Oregon coast. The sky is usually gray.”

  “Bite me.”

  The command, which was really very immature, simmered between them. It did more than that. It caught fire. Sparks racing over his skin, prickling at the back of his neck. Being around her was always unsettling. But this was something else.

  He gritted his teeth. “I very well might have last night. Neither of us remember, though, so I can’t be sure.”

  He needed to get out of this hotel room. He needed to get out of this situation. Talking to Lydia, being near Lydia, it always made him feel edgy. Of all Natalie’s friends, she was his least favorite to deal with. There was just something about her that bothered him. And it was definitely mutual.

  Right now, so was this other thing. That was a pretty serious problem.

  She closed her eyes. “I’m going to ignore that.” She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, staring him down.

  She moved mutely around the room, straightening things that didn’t need to be straightened, vibrating with unspent energy. He knew she was holding back a rant, which suited him just fine. He didn’t have any desire to hear it. Not at all.

  He silently finished doing a sweep for his things, then looked back at his phone.

  He had not sent any photos of Lydia and himself to his parents or to his sisters, thank God. He didn’t seem to have text
ed them at all, other than that one placating response to his mother.

  Sierra had texted to ask if he was okay. And he also had two missed calls from her. His youngest sister was obviously very concerned. While Maddy, his other sister, had sent a text commanding him not to do anything stupid.

  He looked across the room at the very, very stupid thing he’d done.

  Too late for that.

  “Here’s the thing,” Lydia said, as though sensing his attention shifting to her. “Natalie left you at the altar. She could have told you she was having second thoughts anytime, and she didn’t. She humiliated you in front of the entire town. And now you have a chance to get revenge.”

  The damn woman was like a dog with a bone.

  “You want us to stay married so that I can get revenge on her?”

  She shook her head, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. “No, I want us to stay married because a scandal like a divorce is going to completely ruin my chances. If we tell people that we’ve always had feelings for each other and Natalie not showing up at the wedding gave you the perfect chance to fully realize those feelings...”

  “Anybody who knows us will know that is not true.”

  She lifted her hands up in the air and brought them back down hard, slapping her thighs. “And yet, we’re married. So, what does it matter what they know?”

  He grabbed his phone off the bed and looked back down at it. He had a text from Natalie, response to the picture he had sent of Lydia and himself hanging all over each other in the bar.

  What the hell is going on, Colton?

  That was a good question, though he didn’t feel like the woman who left him at the altar had the right to question him. But even if she did, he didn’t have the answer.

  He couldn’t remember being that person. Couldn’t remember that moment. And he certainly couldn’t reconcile the woman in the picture with the one standing in front of him glaring like he was something she had stepped in in a pasture.

  He went back to the main screen in his messages. He had sent a few pictures of the impromptu wedding to some of the guys who worked for his construction company and hadn’t received any responses. A few of them probably had phones that were too old to view pictures. He had a feeling he had been intending to send them to Natalie, but had failed, thanks to his advanced state of inebriation.