Page 38 of Bound To Be Mine

“Did you see the photos?” I finally asked.

“All of them. My brothers made sure of that.” He rubbed his face. “I don’t remember any of it.”

“Neither do I.” I gestured to the couch. “Do you want to sit?”

He nodded and sat down. I took the chair across from him. It felt safer to have some distance between us.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

I chewed on my lower lip as I thought. “The reception. Having drinks with you at the bar. You singing karaoke, which I’m pretty sure actually happened based on the videos.”

He winced. “It happened. I’ve seen the footage. It’s mortifying.”

“You weren’t that bad,” I lied.

“I was terrible. I can’t sing.” He leaned back against the couch. “After that, it’s just blank. I remember laughing a lot. I think we were dancing?”

“Yeah, I think so too.” I picked at the hem of my shirt. “I don’t remember going to a chapel. I don’t remember the actual wedding. I just woke up this morning with a ring on my bathroom counter.”

He held up his left hand, showing me his matching gold band. “I’m wearing mine. And it’s apparently stuck. I’m guessing the alcohol still clogging my liver and kidneys is making me puffy. I’m hoping I can get it off soon.”

“Speaking of getting off, did we…” I trailed off, feeling my cheeks heat.

“Sleep together?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I woke up alone, still mostly dressed. And I think I would remember that, even drunk.”

“Same.” I felt oddly relieved. At least there was that.

“This is your fault,” he said suddenly. “You know that, right?”

I stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who insisted I prove I could have fun. You challenged me to loosen up.”

“I didn’t tell you to marry me!” I said, shaking my head. “There’s loose and then there’s batshit crazy.”

Briggs shrugged. “You told me to have drinks with you. Multiple drinks. You kept ordering shots.”

“You could have said no!”

“I was trying to prove a point!”

“Well, congratulations,” I snapped. “You proved you can’t handle your liquor. That’s a great character trait for a lawyer.”

His jaw tightened. “This isn’t like me. I don’t do things like this. I’m responsible. I’m careful.”

“You think I do things like this?” I shot back. “I plan weddings for a living. I don’t get drunk and accidentally participate in one!”

We glared at each other across the small space. The tension crackled between us.

“We need to get this annulled,” he said finally. “As soon as possible. This is bad for my reputation.”

Something in me snapped.

“Fuck your reputation. It’s mine I’m worried about.” I stood up, pacing. “Do you understand what this looks like? I’m a wedding planner. People trust me to coordinate the most important day of their lives. They trust me to be professional, organized, and in control. And now there are photos of me getting trashed at a wedding I planned and running off to marry one of the guests.” I turned to face him. “My clients are going to see those photos. My potential clients are going to see those photos. Do you know how many brides are going to think twice about hiring me now?”

“So we get it annulled,” he said. “We put out a statement saying it was a mistake, we were drunk, it didn’t mean anything.”

“That’s worse!” I threw my hands up. “I can’t get an annulment.”