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“Yeah.” He sat up and massaged his temples. “I think I’m going to go shower. That might help me feel more alive.”
Now that sounded like a good idea. “I might join you.”
He stood up and held his hand out, his eyes flashing with a promise of what would come if she did. “Please do.”
She slid her hand into his, but the clinking of metal on metal caught her attention. She froze, and so did he. They both looked at each other, wide gazes latched. She didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe. As if breathing might make it more real. As if the bands circling their fingers would just fade away if she didn’t move. “Oh, please no.”
His grip on her tightened and he didn’t move either. “What the hell was that noise?”
She licked her parched lips. “It sounded like rings.”
“On our left hands? Why the fuck would we be wearing rings on our left hands?”
Nausea swept over her, hard and strong and unforgiving. “Uh, if we were married…”
“No.” He paled, and maybe even turned a little bit green. Her heart sped up at the panic in his eyes, feeding her own. “We couldn’t have. We didn’t have a license. And it was late at night. We couldn’t have.”
“You already said that.”
He let out a s
trangled sound. “But it’s true. Right? You can’t get married unless you do it right, and the courthouse isn’t open at midnight.”
She closed her eyes, a fuzzy memory flashing back. Of Mike calling one of his buddies. “Oh. My. God.”
“What?” His fingers tensed on hers. “What do you remember?”
She stared back at him and he still looked like he was about to run for it. Heck, so was she. “Your cop friend pulled some strings for us. He had a buddy in the system or something. I vaguely remember it now. He thought it was funny. So did we.”
Mike dropped her hand—more like threw it back at her—and stumbled backwards. “No. No no no.”
“Yes.”
He looked down at his hand, his eyes wide. Sure enough, a silver or white gold band circled the ring finger of his left hand. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” Morgan looked down at his hand, the same sinking sensation hitting her just as it was probably hitting him. “What the hell were we thinking? No, what were you thinking?”
“Me?” he practically shouted. “This wasn’t my doing.”
“It has to be. I wouldn’t do this. No way. No how.” She crossed her arms. “So why did you ask me to marry you? What were you thinking?”
He spun on her, a glare scalding her skin. “You’re out of your mind.”
“No, you are if you think this was my idea.” Anger took over her and she welcomed it. It was better than the nauseating dread and helplessness she’d been feeling seconds ago. She leapt to her feet and shoved his shoulders as hard as she could. He didn’t even budge. Of course. “Why did you take advantage of me when I was drunk?”
“I can’t believe this.” He dragged his hands down his face and she couldn’t look away from his wedding ring. She knew she wore one, too, but she refused to look at it. Maybe if she didn’t, it would just go away. “You’re accusing me of doing this? I didn’t ask you. You must’ve asked me.”
She laughed. “As if. The last thing I’d want to do is marry you.”
“Gee. Thanks for the loving words, wife.” He threw his hands in the air. “But in case you forgot our little talk last night, I didn’t want to get married, either. Ever.”
“Well, I didn’t ask you.”
“And I didn’t ask you,” he snarled. His jaw ticked. “I wouldn’t have.”
She glared up at him, not saying another word. What more was there to say? Without proof, they would never know…
She snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it.”
