Page 55 of Bound To Be Mine

And myself, sitting in the driver’s seat at the front, holding the reins.

Mandy was visible in the back of the carriage, draped across the seat like she was on a chaise lounge, one elbow propping her up, the other hand holding what appeared to be a drink. She looked like she was waiting for someone to paint her portrait.

“What the hell was I doing?” I said. “Did I steal a carriage?”

“Just wait,” she said, and I could hear her trying not to laugh. “Thirty more seconds.”

On screen, I stood up in the moving carriage. I had straightened to my full height and planted my feet a few feet apart. I was holding the reins with both hands like I was competing in the Roman Colosseum.

I hung my head. “I was way too drunk to be driving a carriage.”

“I think the horses did most of the work,” she said. She was laughing. “They were very professional about the whole thing.”

“Unlike you,” I said, nodding at the screen where she was lounging in undeniable luxury. “In the back like a queen.”

“I see absolutely nothing wrong with that.” She put down her phone. “It was my wedding night.”

“What if there is a warrant out for my arrest?” I asked. “Shit. Where are the fucking horses now? Did we leave them somewhere?”

She burst into laughter. “I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t know.”

“Mandy, this is serious. That’s a felony.”

“Is it?”

“I need to buy a baseball cap.”

“What?” She was still laughing, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“A disguise. I can’t be walking around Vegas if the police are looking for me. Do you know what would happen if I got arrested? Adrian would lose his mind.”

“Briggs.” Mandy was wiping her eyes now, barely able to contain herself. “Relax. I’m sure you’re not the first person to take a joyride in a carriage. This is Vegas. Weird shit happens here every night.”

“That doesn’t make it legal.”

“No, but it makes it less likely anyone cared enough to report it. And if they did, trust me—you would have heard about it by now. You’re Briggs Blackwell. If there was a warrant, every gossip site would be screaming about it.”

I sat down slowly, my heart still racing. She was right. Of course she was right. But the idea that I’d done something that stupid, that reckless, made my skin crawl.

“I don’t do things like that,” I said quietly.

“You did that night.”

“I was drunk.”

“Yes, you were.” She leaned forward with a smile. “But you were also happy. Really, genuinely happy. I’ve watched those videos about fifty times today, and in every single one, you look like you’re having the time of your life.”

I picked up my club soda and took a long drink. The bubbles helped settle my nervous belly. “I don’t remember feeling happy.”

“That’s because you don’t remember anything.”

“So what do you want from me?” I asked. “You want me to get up on that stage and make an ass of myself again? Sober this time?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Just a few memories. That’s all I want.”

I should have been freaking out. I was but not really. I was actually feeling kind of excited.

“Let’s go find a carriage,” I said.