“Oh my gosh!” She pointed to the offending object on his ring finger. “You’re married! I just spent the night with a drunk, married man.”

She pulled her white four-hundred-thread-count shroud tighter around her body, as if she could vanish from the shame and his anonymous wife’s impending wrath.

“What are you talking about?” Drew asked as he picked up a plain white undershirt and pulled it on over his head. “I’m not married.”

“But we did spend the night together. And you’re wearing a wedding ring.”

He squinted his baby blue eyes at his finger, looking truly puzzled by the gleaming jewelry. Then he turned his gaze to her, as if waiting for her to explain the whole situation to him.

Well, good luck with that, Mr. Not Married. She had no idea what was going on. She struggled to get her improvised garment back into position, and her breath caught when she saw what had caught his attention.

“You have one, too.” His tone was casual, lacking any judgment or accusation.

She stared at the matching band on her own ring finger.

For the first time in history, Kylie Chatterson, former pep leader of the Boise State Cheer Team, second runner-up for Miss Idaho USA and current CPA whiz, was at a loss for words.

* * *

Sugar Falls, Idaho: Your destination for true love!

Waking Up Wed

Christy Jeffries

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHRISTY JEFFRIES graduated from the University of California, Irvine, with a degree in criminology and received her Juris Doctor from California Western School of Law. But drafting court documents and working in law enforcement was merely an apprenticeship for her current career in the dynamic field of mummyhood and romance writing. She lives in Southern California with her patient husband, two energetic sons and one sassy grandmother. Follow her online at www.christyjeffries.com.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

To Betty Lou Astleford, a consummate peacemaker who also ran off and got married despite her mother’s warnings that if she married “that man,” he would never be able to afford shoes for her children.

Your strong marriage was a priceless gift to your you bought us to prove your mother wrong. And you really taught me how to splurge on a good pair of shoes. I love you, Momoo.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Every morning for the first thirty years of her life, Kylie Chatterson had woken up alone.

Until today.

She’d barely rolled over on the hotel’s plush mattress when her sleepy eyes did a double take at the fair-haired, angelic-looking man snuggled up beside her.

Who in the world was he—and how in the world had he gotten here?

His muscular body was chiseled like the marble statue of a Greek god, but this work of art was warmer and much more real. The brutal morning sun intruded through the wide-open curtains she’d obviously neglected to close, shedding unnecessary light on her growing sense of shame.

Kylie held her breath, commanding her body to stay still so her spinning head could add up all the facts.

Fact one. She’d flown to Reno for her friend’s coed bachelor/ette party yesterday. This was definitely the room she’d checked into because her fuchsia cheetah-print suitcase was haphazardly propped on the luggage rack at the foot of the bed. So at least she was where she was supposed to be. That was good.

Fact two. She remembered meeting up with some of the wedding party and having one or two cocktails in the casino bar. She normally didn’t drink much, so it couldn’t have been more than a couple. Could it? She spotted three plastic oversize souvenir cups by the TV stand. That wasn’t so good, but it explained the throbbing at the base of her scalp, her queasy stomach and her lack of memory.

Don’t feel, she commanded herself. Just think and solve the problem.

Fact three. There was a dyed-blue carnation bouquet next to an instant photo in a cheesy cardboard frame from the Silver Rush Wedding Chapel that read Hitched in Reno on the bedside table next to her. The image was too grainy—or maybe her eyes were too fuzzy to see—but she was definitely the one holding up the ugly flowers in the picture. She carefully stretched out her arm, trying to bring the photograph closer and into focus without waking the sleeping Adonis beside her. She squinted at the photo. Had they gone to some sort of Wild West–themed bar last night? Maybe that was where she’d met the guy next to her, because he was in the picture, too.

She let out a quiet breath while she carefully studied the shot for more clues. She and Mr. Adonis looked as if they were sitting in a covered pioneer wagon. Next to them sat two people wearing costumes reflecting Nevada’s silver mining heritage. At least she hoped those were costumes. This was really weird, unless...

She glanced over her bare shoulder. The perfectly formed male snored softly away in her bed, and, as she let her gaze drift past the golden features of his face, she rethought her earlier angel appraisal. There was nothing cherubic about the man from the neck down. Had some of the bachelorettes ended up at an all-male revue show?

Oh, no. What if this guy next to her was a male stripper and she’d hooked up with him? Her parents would be mortified. They’d raised her to be a strong woman with an even stronger sense of self-worth—one who would never get taken advantage of by a man.

She dropped the photo and wiped her damp palm on the sheet. Kylie was a certified public accountant and she needed an explanation for this situation that would add up, one that would make sense. She had to stop jumping to conclusions and get back to her usual analytical approach to problem solving.

Besides, his body might look as though it could grace the cover of one of her historical romance novels, but his relaxed face looked too innocent to work for tips.

She rubbed her eyes before scrutinizing the picture again. Regardless of where they were or who else was in the photo with them, they’d both looked pretty darned pleased with themselves last night. Obviously, they’d had a fun time. She didn’t know if that was good or not.

Fact four. She was still dressed in her matching blue lace panty and bra set—but nothing else. What did that mean? Had they or hadn’t they...?

Again, she looked at her bedmate. She had no idea what he had on underneath the covers, but on top, he was wearing nothing but an impressive array of bronzed muscles and a smile. The heat of embarrassment shot up her cheeks.

Even though most people thought Kylie dressed too flashy and went out on more than her fair share of dates, the reality was that in all of her thirty years, she’d never let a man get past second base. And now she couldn’t remember who the batter was or whether he’d hit a home run last night! She didn’t need to be sober to come to the conclusion that winding up half naked and in bed with a stranger couldn’t be good at all.

Before she could move on to fact five, the blond Adonis snuggled closer and wrapped his overdeveloped biceps around her waist. His warm strength sizzled against her taut skin, and it took every fiber of her normally calm demeanor to not leap off the bed and run away from him. She no longer had time to be analytical. If she tried to appraise the situation any more, she’d end up waking him. Maybe she could just sneak out quietly.

Wait. This was her room.

She might bite her tongue when some of the more gossipy women in town mocked her, but having grown up the only girl with four older brothers and an opinionated father, she was used to establishing her independence and her individuality. She was no wallflower. Kylie had learned early on that in life she needed to stand up for herself in order to stand out. She’d also learned how hold her own with men. Even gorgeous, naked ones.

She shoved at his shoulder. “Pssst.”

His only response was to grip her tighter.

“Hey,” she said louder as she tried gracefully to extricate herself from his embrace.

His full pink lips nuzzled against her neck, and a shocking tingle raced down her spine.

The intimate contact both aroused and startled her. She used her bare leg to shove herself away from him. Unfortunately, her heel nailed him in the shin and, just as she was pushing away, he yelped and scrambled backward. The force of his retreat timed perfectly with her launch, and she lost her momentum, collapsing to the patterned carpeted floor in a pile of long limbs and blue lace.

“What in the hell?” she cried out, trying to pull the sheet down to cover herself.

“Where am I?” he asked.

With the sheet finally wrapped around her, Kylie got to her feet so she could confront the equally confused stranger sitting up in her bed. She caught sight of her makeshift toga in the dresser mirror and lifted her chin higher. Her friends always told her that with her tall, curvaceous body, she looked just like an auburn version of Wonder Woman. Yet right now the resemblance was more similar to the superhero’s secret identity, Princess Diana, who needed to defend her Amazon kingdom from unwanted males. “I’ll tell you where you are if you tell me who you are.”

“I’m Andrew.” He rubbed at his close-cropped haircut, and she took comfort in the fact that his head must be pounding just as badly as her own.

Andrew didn’t sound like a stripper name—not that she had any point of reference when it came to exotic male dancers.

“Well, Andrew, you’re in my room at the Legacy Casino in Reno. Don’t ask me how you got here, because I’m still pretty fuzzy on the details.”

The man looked at the disheveled bedding, then back at her, his eyes traveling the length of her body before settling on her heated face. He blinked a couple of times before his hand fumbled on the nightstand and lifted a pair of wire-framed lenses to his eyes.

“You’re Kylie,” he said, recognition apparently dawning on him.

“Well, at least one of us knows...” She faltered as a flashback from last night triggered her own memory bank. “You know, with those glasses on, you kind of look like that military friend of Cooper’s...”

His nod confirmed the sudden fear she couldn’t even bear to say aloud. Oh, no. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

“Oh, my gosh.” She pointed an accusatory finger at him while he looked around the room sheepishly, probably in search of his holy vestments. Or at least his pants. “You’re the minister who’s performing the wedding. You’re Drew Gregson!”

Snippets of yesterday afternoon clicked into place, and she remembered arriving at the cocktail lounge early so she could welcome the rest of the wedding party. Drew, the groom’s best friend, was already there and looking as lost and as confused as a lamb. And she’d apparently led him straight to slaughter. She sank down into the nearest chair. He hadn’t stood up yet, and she wasn’t about to get in bed again with a man of the cloth. “We are so going to hell.”

Yesterday she’d ordered him a drink, telling him it would help him relax. Then she’d cracked a ribald joke to loosen the tension. He’d made a scandalized face before laughing, and they’d toasted the newlyweds. Everything after that was a blur. A horrible, sinful blur.

“Yes, that’s me. But I’m not a minister.”

She studied his face, trying to decide if he was telling the truth or just doing damage control. Maybe he was used to waking up in strange hotel rooms with women he didn’t know, but he didn’t seem too concerned about the fate of their eternal souls. So if he wasn’t a pastor, then what was he? And why was he so unbelievably calm—and not the least bit modest?

She averted her eyes because if she had to look at his rock-hard abs any longer, she would have no hope of keeping her mind focused and figuring out how everything had gone so completely wrong last night. “Can you please put a shirt on or something?”

He pulled the comforter off the floor and dragged it around his body as he scanned the room. Any article of male clothing would do at this point, but Kylie had no idea where he’d left his. From her vantage point, she tried to look around the room, too, but her search kept returning to his bare torso and the fabric secured around his waist with his left hand. After years of being single, she resorted to her default training and zoned in on the shiny gold ring.

“What the hell is that?” She pointed to the offending object. “You’re married! I just spent the night with a drunk, married man.”

She pulled her white four-hundred-thread-count shroud tighter around her body, as if she could make herself vanish from the shame and his anonymous wife’s impending wrath.

“What are you talking about?” Drew asked as he picked up a plain white undershirt and pulled it on over his head. “I’m not married.”

“You’re wearing a wedding ring.”

He squinted his baby-blue eyes at his finger, looking truly puzzled by the gleaming jewelry. Then he turned his bespectacled gaze to her as if waiting for her to explain the whole situation to him.

Well, she certainly had no idea what was going on. Still, his appraising look was patient and intense, and Kylie had the feeling that Drew had probably won his fair share of staring contests. His continuing focus unnerved her, and her trembling fingers slipped on the sheet. She struggled to get her improvised garment back into position, and her breath hitched when she saw what had caught his attention.

“You have one, too.” His tone was casual, lacking any judgment or accusation.

She stared at the matching band on her own ring finger.

For the first time in history, Kylie Chatterson, former pep leader of the Boise State Cheer Team, second runner-up for Miss Idaho USA and current CPA whiz, was at a loss for words.

Her sheet slipped to the floor unnoticed as she ran into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Maybe she wasn’t being very mature and rational about this situation—whatever this situation was—but she felt as though she couldn’t breathe, and her palms were sticky with sweat.

This must be what a panic attack felt like. Or a hangover. Ugh, how much had she had to drink last night?

Don’t freak out. Where was her inner voice of reason when she needed it most? Probably back in the hotel lounge where she must’ve accidentally dumped it out of her designer gold clutch, along with the rest of her morals, when she’d pulled out her credit card to pay for that first round.

She took a sip of water from the sink, then held one hand under the cool flow while she forced herself to inhale and exhale through her nose and slow her breathing. When it finally felt as if her lungs weren’t going to explode, she shut off the faucet and dried her hands.

She needed to think. Why was she wearing this stupid wedding ring, and why had Drew Gregson spent the night in her room? The answer was obvious to her methodical and organized brain, even if she was completely unclear on how they’d gotten to this point.

She stared at her sloppy reflection in the mirror, as if the hot mess looking back at her could provide any explanation. Her long auburn curls were a tangled disaster and her once carefully applied makeup had probably been left behind on one of the ten pillows out there with the Angel of Lust.

Thankfully, she’d unpacked yesterday afternoon and had left her toiletry kit on the bathroom counter. She pulled the fluffy white hotel robe off the hook and double-knotted it around her waist. After running a brush through her hair and securing it into a tight ponytail, she scrubbed her face clean. She brushed her teeth much longer than the American Dental Association recommended, knowing she was stalling for time.

Just as she rinsed out the last of the toothpaste, a knock sounded at the bathroom door. “Uh, Kylie?”

Great. He was still out there. She needed to get rid of him ASAP so she could get down to the business of figuring out just what in the world was going on around here.

“I just found some papers on the dresser,” he said through the locked barrier between them. “I think we may have a little situation.”

* * *

Drew’s head felt as if mortar rounds were ricocheting inside his skull. The marriage license trembling in his normally steady hands looked real enough, but his hazy eyes could barely make out the words. He looked at his watch. Oh nine hundred. He needed to pick up his nephews in less than twenty-four hours. His twin brother’s eight-year-olds were waiting for him at his parents’ house in Boise.

At least he was now dressed and could face the unexpected crisis that had barricaded herself in the bathroom with a little decorum—unlike the behavior he must’ve exhibited last night. He’d found the last of his clothes strewn about as if a bomb had detonated in the hotel room. He was usually so neat and took care with his clothing. Of course, he also took care not to overindulge in alcohol or marry women after knowing them for all of five hours.

Clearly, he wasn’t himself.

For the past ten minutes, he’d been trying to remain cool and controlled while simultaneously racking his foggy brain for details on how he’d ended up in bed with the beautiful woman. Thankfully, she’d run into the bathroom. He hoped she would get dressed because, even for a man who’d sworn off women, there was only so much temptation he could handle.

Yesterday afternoon, the building anxiety and uncertainty about becoming his nephews’ legal guardian while his brother deployed on a top secret mission this summer had swelled to an all-time high. It didn’t help that Drew was suffering from jet lag, having arrived fresh off the cargo plane from a military base in the Middle East. To top it all off, he was about to embark on a new assignment as the staff psychologist at the naval hospital near his hometown. It was a trifecta of pressure he hadn’t been expecting.

He shook his head. Regardless, all the compounding mental and physical effects weren’t an excuse for what he’d done—if only he knew what exactly that was. He’d counseled numerous soldiers and sailors about the healthy and effective ways of handling stress stateside after returning from war. He was pretty sure that getting drunk and marrying the first woman he met wasn’t one of his usual recommendations.

Drew remembered introducing himself to Kylie at the cocktail lounge in the casino yesterday before the rest of the wedding party arrived. He’d been eager to see his buddy Matt Cooper, who was marrying Kylie’s best friend, Maxine Walker. In fact, Drew had indirectly introduced the bride and groom when he’d coerced Cooper to participate in a military pen pal program with Maxine’s son.

Yesterday, emotions had been running high for everyone. For Drew they’d been coupled with the unknown anxiety of what awaited him at home.

Kylie had been so friendly and so easy to talk to. As a psychologist, Drew was accustomed to listening to other people’s problems and giving guidance or counsel whenever necessary. But he’d never been the one on the couch, so to speak, and wasn’t used to venting his own feelings. She’d made a joke about him needing a drink to loosen up, and he’d thought, What could one glass hurt?

He eyed the neon-green oversize souvenir cups shaped like slot machines and then ran a hand over his aching head. What could it hurt, indeed? Those deceiving fruity concoctions packed a punch he wouldn’t soon forget.

He stared at the Hitched in Reno photo tossed on the nightstand and wondered how many souvenir cups it had taken for him to get so loopy that he’d thought saying wedding vows before God and a couple of character actors dressed in silver miners’ garb was a good plan.

But he looked beyond the Boomtown theme of the photo of him in his starched jeans and Kylie in her miniskirt, noting the matching smiles on their faces. They may have been three sheets to the wind, but they looked genuinely happy. Almost blissful.

He’d attended his share of weddings and, while many were joyful events, some had been clad in scandal or anger or forced circumstances. In this picture, though, he and Kylie were looking at each other with such unadulterated elation, he went through his catalog of memories to recall if he’d ever seen a couple look as happy on their wedding day as he and Kylie had.

He’d always had an idea of marriage in the back of his mind and knew he’d tie the knot someday. His father was a minister and often preached about honoring the vows of marriage. Maybe because he was old-fashioned or maybe because of his religious upbringing, Drew knew that when he finally settled down, it would be only once. In fact, right after graduate school, he’d thought Jessica could have potentially be the one. He’d wanted to take his time, draw out their courtship, because he needed to be positive that they were perfect for each other. Turned out Jessica hadn’t liked waiting for his decision.

After that, he’d vowed not to enter into any relationship—even a sexual one—with a woman without ensuring she was marriage material. He’d thought taking a break from women would be a simple test of mind over matter.

But now his self-imposed rule was being seriously tested as it never had been before. He looked down at the wedding photo and the attractive redhead in the too-tight outfit and too-high heels. Not that Drew believed in stereotypes of any kind, but Kylie didn’t look anything like the spouses of some of his esteemed colleagues. He remembered thinking she was stunning when he’d met her yesterday, even if her attire was not what one would describe as conventional. Then, this morning, when she’d dropped her sheet and he’d seen her in all her womanly glory, he’d had a difficult time looking away.

Despite his promise to himself, he struggled with the same carnal feelings that most people did. But up until now, he’d been able to control his emotions. Besides, living in battle-ready military installations around the world for the past few years had limited the potential for temptation, as his social interactions with single women who weren’t wearing unisex camouflage had been few and far between.

Yet Kylie’s style and personality were so animated and so colorful, he couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

The water in the bathroom shut off again and he braced himself for her to exit. They would have to come to terms with what they’d done.

The door opened and she held her freshly scrubbed face high, but even the oversize bathrobe couldn’t do much to diminish the endowments she’d been blessed with.

She leaned against the door frame, her green, makeup-free eyes squeezed tightly closed. “Please don’t tell me what I think you’re going to tell me.”

“If you think I’m going to tell you that this wedding picture was just a joke, then I won’t tell you that.”

“How do you know?” She squinted one lid open, and he handed over the very official-looking marriage license. Sign, sealed and delivered.

She was a smart woman. Drew couldn’t recall how he knew this, but he remembered thinking it at some point last night. So he remained quiet and let her come to the inevitable conclusion.

“Wow.” She sank down to the floor, her long, shapely legs exposed as her knees poked through the gap in the white terry cloth.

He’d learned early on that to have effective communication with people, he needed to reach them on their level. So despite the queasiness in his own stomach, he gingerly lowered himself to floor beside her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wanting to comfort her. “I don’t know how it happened or why we did it, but it looks as though we’re married.”

She cupped her head in her hand while holding the license in the other. Her eyes traveled over the paper repeatedly, probably looking for some loophole or some hint that it wasn’t legitimate. Unfortunately, Drew knew they were staring at the real deal.

“But how can we be married when it says our only witnesses were two people who signed their names as Pistole Pepe and Maddog Molly?”

Drew handed over the wedding photo. “I think that guy with the long beard and miner’s hat is Pistole. This snarling woman holding the blue flowers like yours must be Molly.”

“God, my maid of honor was an overweight saloon girl with a missing tooth.”

“Maybe we should try to focus on the more important facts,” he suggested.

“Seriously? How can you not be worried about this?” The arched red brow made him think she didn’t like his suggestion. “You got totally wasted last night and forced a complete stranger to marry you. Who the hell knows what kind of fornication we committed in that bed right over there? Yet now you have the nerve to tell me that none of that is important?”

“Okay, let’s recap. One, I’m a doctor. A clinical psychologist, to be exact. My job is to look at the big picture.”

“But you’re performing the wedding. Don’t you have to be a preacher to do that?”

“Uh, no. Anyone can get certified online to do that. I owed Cooper a favor and he knows I hate public speaking.”

“Well, that explains that mystery.” She let out a sigh, then leaned her head back so quickly, it thunked against the wall.

“Can we get back to the current situation?” He waited for her to nod before continuing, “Two, I don’t think it’s in anybody’s best interests to keep a running tab of potential sins. Three, I might have been somewhat intoxicated, but judging by the smile on your face in that picture, I think we can safely say that nobody forced anybody to do anything last night. Four, I’m pretty sure that whatever might or might not have happened in that bed last night wouldn’t be considered fornication if we were technically married.”

Drew was a patient man, but he didn’t know if the woman collapsed in front of him was willing to listen to reasonable logic. How would he? He didn’t know her from Adam. Or Eve. But he did know that if Eve had looked anything like Kylie Chatterson, Drew didn’t blame Adam one bit for taking a bite of that cursed apple.

“I’ll concede points one through three,” she finally said. “But since you’re not a minister, then you’re clearly no expert on what might or might not constitute fornication.”

Wait, now she was annoyed that he wasn’t a minister? The lady needed to make up her mind, because he couldn’t win this game. “Are you an attorney?”

“No, I’m a CPA. When you talk in numbers to me, things make better sense.”

Drew would have to store that knowledge away for future use. “Listen, I’m just as confused and overwhelmed by this whole thing as you are. But I know that we have to keep our heads clear and our words civil if we’re going to get through this.”

She nodded, but her confused eyes still sought answers. “How can you be so calm? This can’t be great news for you, either, but you’ve yet to freak out.”

“Job hazard. I’m in the business of keeping calm when everything around me is blowing up. Literally.”

“Well, this would certainly qualify as an explosion in my life.” The back of her head thumped against the wall again as she lifted her face to the ceiling.

“There’s a coffeemaker in here. Why don’t I brew some and we can figure out our next course of action?”

He stood and held out his hand to her. He realized his mistake when she stared at his extended fingers before taking several breaths. He was still wearing the gold band. She probably didn’t appreciate the reminder of last night, but he hadn’t been able to get the thing off his oversize knuckle.

At almost six foot four and weighing close to two hundred thirty pounds, Drew was a big man. He was accustomed to things not always being available in his size. Apparently, his selection in wedding rings was no exception.

After a few uncomfortable moments, she finally accepted his extended hand by placing her own in his. He effortlessly pulled her up and, when they were practically face-to-face, he was pleasantly surprised that she was only a few inches shorter than him.

But holding hands made it easier for her to study the his-and-hers duplicate set of jewelry. She dropped his fingers as if the rings were some sort of live grenades and then tugged on her gold band, but it wouldn’t even budge.

“Ugh. It’s stuck. I’m probably swollen up from all the booze.”

Drew’s eyes dipped from her hand to her heaving chest as she labored over the ring, and he noticed her fingers weren’t the only things swollen. The way the lapel of her robe gaped open, he could see that her breasts were about to spill out of their D cups.

Heat stole up his neck, and his skin tightened all over his body. He quickly turned away to walk toward the minibrewer tucked into a corner alcove.

With his back to her, he heard her cross behind him to the opposite side of the room. He hoped she wasn’t physically distancing herself in fear that he was some sort of pervert and might attack her. She probably sensed the way his body was responding to her, and he couldn’t blame her for taking precautions.

“We’re supposed to meet the rest of the wedding party for brunch in less than thirty minutes,” she said as he made the first cup. “Do you think they’ll wonder whether something is wrong if neither one of us shows?”

“Why wouldn’t we show up for bunch? I, for one, am starving. Did we even have dinner last night?”

“Don’t ask me,” Kylie said, then thanked him for the mug he offered. She sat in one of the chairs, and he wondered if her legs were as shaky as his. “After we left the cocktail lounge, everything else that happened last night is pretty vague. And what do you mean ‘why wouldn’t we show up for brunch’? We can’t walk in there, in front of all our friends, and act as if nothing’s out of the ordinary.”

“Why can’t we? They obviously weren’t there last night or they would’ve put a stop to...you know.” Drew gestured toward the empty souvenir cups littering the hotel room, leaving any mention of the impromptu wedding unsaid.

“That’s a good point. So you think we should just act as if nothing happened? I mean, I don’t want to lie to my friends, but if we play everything off as though we had a bit too much to drink and don’t remember last night clearly, that would be the truth, right?”

Drew had been raised to believe that an omission was just as serious as a lie. But it wasn’t as though he needed to broadcast their mistake to the world or make it anyone’s business. He didn’t know what to do. Nothing about this situation was sitting well. Including the way Kylie’s sweet green eyes pleaded with him.

He was a problem solver by nature and wished he could just give her some advice and then walk away. But this was one problem he didn’t know how to solve.

“Can I ask you a question?” He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Sure, but I can’t guarantee I’ll know the answer.”

“What are your thoughts on marriage? Not this marriage, per se, but in general. I mean, you’re an attractive woman. You’re smart. And clearly, you know how to have fun. So is there a reason why you’re not married?”

She sank her head back against the chair as if the question exhausted her. But Drew was used to waiting for people to explain things in their own ways. So he stood there, gripping his coffee mug and glasses, waiting for her answer.

“I really have no idea why I’m not married. Heaven knows I’ve dated enough men that you’d think I would’ve found Mr. Right by now.” That wasn’t exactly the answer Drew was hoping to hear. Sure, Kylie was pretty, and he could see why any red-blooded male would want to go out with her, but he could’ve done without the knowledge that had an active dating calendar.

“To me, marriage is a serious commitment,” he said, trying to make a point.

“Which we entered into lightly.” Kylie’s posture, even when seated, was tall and impressive, and Drew doubted she could sit up any straighter.

“But still, we entered into it and everything it entails.”

“Listen, I get it that not everyone believes in divorce. But I’m sure we can get an annulment or something that wouldn’t taint your beliefs or your reputation.”

“Some people might see that as a solution. Yet I have a feeling that we took vows before God.”

Kylie looked ready to bolt and probably would’ve run as far from him as she could if he wasn’t standing in between her and her suitcase full of clothes. “We also took vows before some guy named Pistole Pepe, which I’m sure wasn’t his legal name at birth. Look, you seem like a real straitlaced guy, but there’s an exception to every rule.”

Maybe. Kylie looked like the kind of woman who was used to making her own rules. Yet something about her fighting spirit made him question whether he wanted an exception. “I don’t know much about the legal logistics, but can we get an annulment if we consummated the marriage?”

Her charming face blushed more crimson than he would’ve thought possible, and he wanted to kick himself for embarrassing the poor woman. She was definitely shyer than she let on.

Despite the heat staining her cheekbones, she sat up even straighter. But her voice was a mere whisper when she finally spoke. “Did we...?”

Once again, he wanted to put her fears to rest, but he honestly had no idea. He felt like a complete idiot for not remembering. But the fact remained that they’d gotten married and they’d woken up together nearly naked. And did he mention that since he’d sworn off intimacy with women, he hadn’t had sex in over a year?

“Honestly,” he said, “I don’t know. And if neither one of us knows the answer to that, then I’m guessing we also don’t know whether or not we used...um...protection?”

Chapter Two

“Oh, my gosh. No. No. No.” Kylie thought of every curse word ever uttered by her father and four athletic brothers, and then repeated one that would have shocked a war-weary sailor, let alone the confused doctor in front of her.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. She hated offending Drew, who finally looked uncomfortable. It wasn’t his fault she’d sacrificed her much-practiced poise for the feistiness she usually kept hidden. “I don’t usually talk like that. I didn’t mean to let my mouth get away from me.”

He looked at her lips and she instantly regretted the words that drew his attention there. But she was too absorbed in her own panic to worry about what kind of pleasure they might or might not have partaken of last night.

“I know we wouldn’t have forgotten that. Right?” She was too mortified to even say what that was.

He ran his hand through his close-cropped military-style haircut, and she wondered how she could have possibly thought this conservative, clean-cut man in the crisp jeans and J.Crew sweater was a male stripper.

“I would like to think that we both would have known better than to be so reckless.” His confident tone didn’t quite match his puzzled and slightly pink expression. “Yet from the looks of everything else around us, we should have known better about a lot of things.”

“But you don’t understand. I can’t just be married. Or suddenly pregnant by someone I don’t know. My father would kill me. My brothers would kill you. Everyone in Sugar Falls would say they knew something like this was bound to happen. I’ll have to give up my accounting practice and move to Boise. Wait. Farther than that. Siberia, maybe. This is going to ruin my whole life.”

“Well, at least we’re equally screwed.”

Wait, had he just said screwed? Perhaps the gravity of the situation was finally sinking in for Doctor Perfect.

“I mean, it’s not as if this is going to look really great for my career or my family.” He waved his arm dramatically at the room, including the empty beverage cups and her. “I’m not exactly proud of all this.”

It was difficult to not take the insult personally. Why would he be ashamed of marrying her? Maybe she wasn’t some stuffy Miss Priss, but she was decent in the looks department and she was financially successful. Plus, she didn’t have any standout mental health concerns, addictions or genetic diseases—that she knew of. Frankly, he could do a lot worse.

Of course, so could she. And hadn’t she proved just that with some of the losers she’d dated in the past? No man she’d ever been out with—and if you asked her two best friends, they’d say she’d been out with a lot—had made it past her rigid checklist of qualities for Mr. Right. Her strike-one-and-you’re-out policy explained why she went through eligible men so quickly. That and her fear of taking home anyone to meet her opinionated family.

While life had taught her to be pragmatic about most things, Kylie believed in true love. She was a romantic at heart and knew that somewhere out there, her soul mate was waiting for her. Unfortunately, she doubted that her soul mate would want the pregnant ex-wife of some military shrink.

She sighed. “I’m sorry if it seems as if I’m only looking out for my best interests here. This probably wasn’t exactly what you envisioned, either, when we ordered that first round last night. But at least you don’t live in a small, judgmental town like Sugar Falls. You won’t be carrying around a nine-month reminder of this night or have smug busybodies shake their heads at you when you pass them on the street with your love child in tow. You get to hop on the first navy plane out of here and go on about your life.”

Drew knelt in front of her, his fingers cupping her chin, gently forcing her to meet his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. Especially if you’re carrying my child. You don’t know me or the kind of person I am, so I’m not going to take offense at what you just said. But I’m telling you this now, completely sober and with every moral fiber in my body. We will be in this together, and any decisions that need to be made will be made by both of us.”

Kylie wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a vow. He seemed to have an abundance of moral fibers floating around in his perfectly formed body. Yet, behind the clear lenses, his eyes were very serious and solemn. For some reason, his words soothed her, and she no longer felt as though she was drowning alone. The fact remained, though, that she was still drowning. All she could hope was that this guy didn’t sink her in his quest to save himself first.

It must’ve been the lingering effects of the alcohol causing her palms to sweat and her tummy to swirl. Out of all the men she’d gone out with, not once had one’s nearness ever made her feel this light-headed.

Kylie needed some food to ease her roiling stomach, and they had only about ten minutes to get to brunch downstairs before their dual absence caused speculation.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s agree to get through today and this upcoming week back in Sugar Falls as if nothing has happened.” Hopefully, by then, she’d have some more answers—like whether she’d need to buy a pregnancy test and when he’d be on his way out of town and out of her life. “We won’t make any decisions until after the wedding. Their wedding, that is. Maxine and Cooper’s. Not yours and mine. Ugh. You know what I mean.”

Great. How was she ever going to get through this brunch if she couldn’t even get through a sentence?

“That sounds like a good plan.” He stood back up, his hand that had gently stroked her chin now extended in a handshake. She hadn’t noticed before but his right pinkie was slightly bent—an interesting flaw in an otherwise perfect specimen of man.

He had replaced an intimate gesture with a businesslike stance. So she rose from the chair in order to cover up the fact that she was leaning toward him like a lost kitten seeking out a friendly pat. Had she been wearing her usual four-inch heels, she would have come close to matching his impressive height. However, in her bare feet and oversize robe, she felt more delicate and womanly than she was used to when around average-size men.

Whoa, he was well built. As his hand shook hers, she smiled, thinking that under his preppy sweater and starched jeans was a rippling specimen of a man that only she was privy to. She liked knowing that.

He still hadn’t released her from his grip when two abrupt knocks sounded at the door. Drew turned to answer it and she grabbed his forearm and pulled him back. What was he thinking?

She put a finger to her mouth and shoved him toward the bathroom. A second passed before his brows lifted in surprise. He finally figured out that she wanted to hide him from whoever was knocking. The guy was obviously not schooled in the art of clandestine operations, which was probably a point in his favor. Just not at that exact moment.

She waited until the bathroom knob clicked before opening the hotel room door.

Her best friend’s former mother-in-law, Cessy Walker, and Freckles, the owner of the Cowgirl Up Café back home, brushed past her and into what Kylie was sure they would sense was her den of iniquity.

“Are we supposed to meet here for the brunch?” Cessy asked.

“Uh, no.” Kylie turned quickly, hoping the women wouldn’t notice the remains of last night’s debauchery that still littered the nightstand and floor. “We were supposed to meet downstairs at the buffet.”

Kylie’s frantic search zeroed in on the wedding photo and license she’d left on the chair, and she quickly sat on top of them.

“You’re not ready,” Cessy said, pointing out the obvious.

“No, I’m running a little late, Mrs. Walker. Why don’t you two ladies go on down and let everyone know that we’re... I mean, that I’m on my way.”

“Kylie.” Cessy tsked, looking around the room. “You’re one of the maids of honor. You’re supposed to be hosting the brunch. It’s in bad taste to show up late to your own event.”

Hopefully, Sugar Falls’s resident society matron wouldn’t find out what other forms of bad taste Kylie had recently been engaged in.

“Is your shower running?” asked Freckles—who looked older than Kylie’s grandmother, yet dressed as though she was a runner-up in a Dolly Parton lookalike contest.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just about to hop in when you guys knocked.”

“Well, we’ll just wait out here for you, then. Maybe it’ll speed you along.”

Kylie thought about the man inside her bathroom who, right this second, was probably lathering up his well-muscled body. She couldn’t go in there now or she’d see him in all his angelic glory. She would have blushed in mortification at her lustful thoughts for a stranger, but she was too busy flushing bright red at the realization that the two women looked like they were going to settle in and wait for her to do just that.

Before she could muster a protest, an undoubtedly manly shout sounded from the other side of the door. “Ow! Man, that’s slippery!”

Freckles’s face split into an ear-to-ear lipstick-covered grin. But her slightly younger and overcontrolling cohort looked confused.

“Who was that?” Cessy asked.

“That’s what I call the evidence of a good bachelorette party.” Freckles giggled, slapping her painted on jeans–clad thigh.

“Kylie Chatterson, I can’t believe you brought a man back to your hotel room—and of all times. You couldn’t go one weekend without one?” Cessy looked more exasperated than surprised, and Kylie’s pride stung at the implication that promiscuous behavior was expected from her. Normally she would’ve launched a full verbal attack against any petty remarks directed at her or her loved ones. But the truth of the situation and her growing shame wouldn’t allow her to defend her questionable honor.

“Stop being such a prude, Cessy,” the other woman said. If Kylie hadn’t been sitting across the room in the chair, refusing to budge for fear of revealing the condemning documents, the older waitress probably would’ve high-fived her.

Freckles was the liberal yin to Cessy’s conservative and proper yang. They were a mismatched set of friends, and right about now Kylie fought back tears at their intrusive assumptions. But at this second, she couldn’t argue with the evidence. So she bit her lip and tried to come up with a plan to get them out of her room.

“Well, you’d better not bring some one-night stand to my daughter-in-law’s prewedding brunch. Cooper’s friend, that sweetheart of a man who’s performing the wedding, is going to be there. His father is a minister, and Drew himself is a well-respected and high-ranking officer. The last thing we need is for him to think the bride’s best friend is hooking up with random men.”

The sharp insult was a stiletto to Kylie’s heart. She wanted to scream that the almighty, holier-than-thou Doctor Gregson was too busy being naked in her shower and recovering from a hangover of epic proportions to worry about anyone else’s misconduct.

But she wouldn’t turn this into a bigger scandal and out the poor guy like that—even if misery did love company.

Kylie counted to one hundred under her breath. The only thing stopping her from verbally putting Cessy Walker in her place was the fact that, in this situation, Kylie’s behavior was indefensible. Even if it seemed to be what everyone anticipated. And that was what hurt the most.

Sure, Kylie wore clothes that were arguably a bit too sexy by Sugar Falls, Idaho, standards. But underneath the beauty-queen smile, the spandex and the heels, she was a well-balanced and professional woman.

Heck, Kylie even did Cessy Walker’s—as well as half the town’s—income taxes. It seemed everyone trusted her sensible side when it came to important things like their finances and life savings. But nobody seemed to trust her when it came to moral values that were none of their business anyway.

She was just about to say as much when Freckles finally spoke up and pulled her friend’s arm. “Cessy Walker, don’t try to shame the girl for having a little fun. You were on your third marriage by the time you were Kylie’s age. C’mon now, let’s go meet everyone downstairs. She’s a big girl and can make her own decisions. Besides, she’s so smart...”

Their voices drifted down the hallway as Kylie slammed the door closed.

Just then, Drew poked his head out of the bathroom, probably making sure the coast was clear. “I, uh, don’t have any of my clothes except the ones I wore yesterday. Do you think I have time to go back to my room to change?”

His slim hips were barely covered by a knotted white towel; his wide shoulders and tapering torso were too much for her overcrowded mind to take in. “Just put on the same stuff and get down there before me. Nobody will notice what you’re wearing anyway.”

“Listen,” he started, and she could already see the pity in his face. “I couldn’t help but hear Mrs. Walker’s voice. I’m sorry for the way she spoke to you. I’m sure that if we put our heads together, we can figure out how to minimize the gossip.”

His words stung her pride even more than she’d thought possible. She hated anyone feeling sorry for her and was mortified that he’d overheard the older woman chastising her. Her parents had raised her to be tough, and she’d been on the receiving end of worse insults than the ones he’d just overheard. What she couldn’t handle was pity. His sympathy implied she had no control over her life and needed Doctor Goodbody to step in and save her.

“Don’t worry about it. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that gossip in small towns is pretty standard. So just as long as nobody finds out who the man in my room is, I can live with one more blemish on my unearned reputation.”

With that, she grabbed his discarded clothes off the bathroom counter and tossed them toward him before locking herself inside. She didn’t wait to make sure he left before getting under the hot spray of the shower nozzle to scrub away her sins—along with her hurt and embarrassment. All she wanted was for him to get dressed as quickly as possible and get out of her room before she did something stupid, like let him hold her while she cried her fool eyes out.

But twenty minutes later, when she pageant-walked into the reserved dining room for the prewedding brunch as though everything in her life was as grand as could be, she realized she had seriously underestimated her friends’ skills of observation.

* * *

After Drew had gone through the buffet line, loading his plate with a custom-made omelet, sausage links and four buttermilk pancakes, he’d tried to sit next to Kylie. He didn’t want to seem as if he was avoiding her and, truthfully, he liked being near her. But his best friend and the groom, Matt Cooper, had steered him toward the opposite end of the table.

“You must’ve gotten lost last night,” Cooper said right before digging into his own breakfast. “Nobody could find you after we left the cocktail lounge.”

“Hmm,” Drew replied noncommittally as he forked piping-hot eggs into his mouth. He wasn’t going to lie to anyone—especially not to Cooper, who was a former military police sergeant and had just been appointed as the chief of police for the town of Sugar Falls. His friend was too canny for that. And, judging from the smug grin across the guy’s face, he was also too excited at the prospect of exploiting Drew’s possible fall from grace.

“And it looks as though the airlines must have lost your luggage, because you’re wearing the exact same clothes you had on when we saw you last.”

Yep, the cop definitely knew something had happened. But as much as Drew wanted to confide in his friend, he’d promised Kylie that they wouldn’t tell anybody yet. Instead, he shoved a bite of a syrup-drenched pancake into his mouth, trying to avoid answering any more questions.

Drew stole a look down the long table to see how his wife was faring.

Wife.

That sounded weird. Not horrible and scary, he thought. Just weird.

She was seated next to the bride and their friend Mia, the other maid of honor. But unlike Drew, Kylie merely pushed the food back and forth on her plate while her friends talked incessantly around her. She was several feet away from him, but he could’ve sworn he heard her asking the waitress if the soft-serve ice cream machine was working this early in the day.

“So are you excited about the wedding?” Drew asked Cooper, trying to change the subject. But his buddy wasn’t having it.

“Kylie’s being rather quiet this morning,” Cooper said. “That’s kind of unusual for her.”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t know your friends very well.”

“Really? Because you two were thick as thieves last night. I got the feeling you and Kylie were getting to know each other really well.”

Drew gave Cooper his listening expression but still didn’t respond. He found it was the best way to get information out of people. Unfortunately, Cooper was making the same face.

“Here’s the deal,” Drew finally relented. “I don’t remember much about last night, and I wasn’t really myself. So let’s just drop it, okay?”

His friend let out a guffaw before patting him on the back. “Don’t worry, Saint Drew. Your secret’s safe with me. Besides, you could’ve done a lot worse than Kylie.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that whatever is between you and my soon-to-be wife’s best friend is just that—between you two. But I’m still gonna give you a hard time whenever I can.”

“Yeah, you’re an emotional vault, so I know I can count on you for discretion. You don’t talk to anyone about anything.” Sadly, Drew was serious, but he knew that since Cooper had met Maxine, his former-loner friend was starting to open up more. “But what do you mean that I could do worse than Kylie? Like I said, I really don’t know anything about her.”

“Kylie’s a good person.” Coming from Coop, who was suspicious of everyone, that was quite a compliment. “She’s smart as hell and she speaks her mind. Very loyal and protective when it comes to the people she loves. So she dresses a little over-the-top and likes to go out with a new guy every week, but Maxine says she just does that because she was the only girl growing up in a male-dominated household and likes to flaunt her femininity. She’s a real spitfire, but she has a heart of gold.”

Drew chugged his orange juice, trying not to look at Kylie again. Cooper’s assessment pretty much aligned with his own first impression of the woman. At least, what he could remember about it.

“And from the way she’s sitting down there all prim and proper, trying not to stare at you just as hard as you’re trying not to stare at her, I’d say something good definitely happened between you two.”

“And I’d say don’t make any risky bets before you leave the casino today. Gambling on the odds isn’t in your best interests.”

Cooper laughed again, this time drawing the looks of the other twenty or so people crowded around the table.

Drew turned the unwanted attention to his advantage and suddenly announced to the group, “I hate to eat and run, but I’m supposed to be in Boise later today to pick up my nephews. I’ll see all of you in Sugar Falls in a few days for the big weekend.”

He then excused himself and made his way down the table, saying his goodbyes and shaking hands before he got to the person he wanted to talk to the most.

“Ladies,” Drew started, acknowledging both her and her friends, yet Kylie wouldn’t look at him or meet his gaze. She kept shoveling ice cream into her mouth so quickly she would no doubt give herself brain freeze. He wanted to get her phone number or figure out a way for them to contact each other since they still had a lot to talk about.

“Drew,” Maxine Walker said, looking between him and her redheaded friend. “We’ll have to get together as soon as you arrive in Sugar Falls. Cooper tells me you’re bringing your nephews with you and staying at the cabin for the summer.”

“What?” Kylie’s spoon clattered to the floor. “You’re moving to Sugar Falls?”

The suspicion in her eyes made him think she was seriously opposed to the news.

“That’s the plan.” One he didn’t intend to change just because he’d stepped out of character one night and had too much to drink.

“Drew’s from Boise originally,” Maxine explained, probably trying to diffuse her friend’s growing tension. “He just transferred assignments and is going to be the psychologist in charge of the new PTSD unit at Shadowview Military Hospital.”

“But Shadowview is closer to Boise than to Sugar Falls.” What was Kylie getting at? That she would rather him live an hour away so she wouldn’t have to be reminded of him or what they’d done?

“Seriously, Kylie,” their friend Mia spoke up, a quiet and calm voice of reason. “The hospital is only thirty minutes from the cabin.”

“What cabin?” Kylie asked.

“You know, the one off Sweetwater Bend? Where Cooper lived when he first moved to town?” Drew just stood there awkwardly, letting Cooper’s fiancée explain everything he should have told Kylie last night. “It belongs to Drew’s family. He’s going to be living there with his nephews and taking care of them while his brother is on deployment.”

“I had absolutely no idea.” Kylie wouldn’t make eye contact with him, and he decided to get this conversation under control before the woman he’d spent the night with made it obvious to everyone at the table that there was a reason she was acting so uncomfortable around him.

“Kylie, I wanted to talk to you about the wedding rehearsal before I left. Ladies, would you excuse us for just a moment?” He pulled her chair back before she could decline, leaving her no polite choice but to walk away from the table with him.

He hated to coerce her verbally, especially when she’d thrown herself on that little gossip grenade in front of Cessy Walker and Freckles. The only person who had ever covered for him in a potentially disastrous situation like that was his brother, Luke. But he couldn’t just sit back and let her martyr herself—or her reputation—without providing his input.

She was just as haughty in her strapless floral-printed sundress as she’d been in her bedsheet this morning. But this time, when she turned to stand toe-to-toe with him, she was almost at eye level. He glanced down at her four-inch wedge-heeled sandals and decided that as regally annoyed as she looked right this second, he liked her similar height to his. As well as her long, toned legs, which made him think thoughts he had no business thinking.

“You never said anything about moving to Sugar Falls,” she said accusingly, the sound of slot machines ringing in the background.

“I didn’t realize I needed your permission to do so.” He tried to keep his voice calm and steady. They were far away from the prying eyes and ears of their acquaintances back at the table, and nobody would be the wiser if they made a scene in the middle of the buffet area. But he knew that if he kept his cool, she would be forced to, as well.

“Of course you don’t need my permission. But can’t you realize how much more awkward this situation is going to be if we have to live in the same town?”

“Not if we don’t let things get awkward.”

“Maybe you have ice running through your veins, but I can’t run around pretending this—” she held up her ring finger between the two of them “—didn’t happen.” She must not have been able to get her band off, but she’d camouflaged it by wearing a large ruby-studded one stacked on top. He’d used so much soap in the shower, he’d almost dropped his own down the drain. He reached into his left pocket, just as he’d done several times throughout the meal, making sure it was safely tucked away.

Looking at her bare shoulders and feeling the warm metal circle under his fingers, he knew he had anything but ice coursing through him right that second. In fact, he was almost as heated as he’d been earlier this morning when she stood in front of him in the same stance, all fired up and practically heaving out of her provocative lace bra.

“I think I’m not saying this right.” He slowed down his words, hoping this would slow his pulse rate, as well. “We have no idea what we’re going to have to deal with in the future, and it would probably help if we could keep things friendly.”

“Why are you always so rational?” She sounded as if she was accusing him of something again. Was she seriously expecting an answer? She let out a pent-up breath and then asked a more logical question. “So you’re going to be living at that cabin with a couple of kids?”

“Yes.”

“But it’s only for the summer?”

“Correct. That should give us enough time to know what we’re going to do about...uh...everything,” he said as he looked pointedly at her midsection. “In the meantime, I wanted to get your number so I could—”

She interrupted him. “Why don’t you give me yours instead? I never give my personal number out to strangers. Besides, I’ll let you know if there’s any news.”

Wow. Talk about putting him in his place. Plus she apparently deemed him one who shouldn’t get a say in what happened from here on out. He didn’t like not being the one in control. Of course, it wasn’t as though he couldn’t find her if he wanted to. They had the same friends—one of them being the chief of police, who could locate anyone—and Sugar Falls was a small town.

“Okay, let me grab a piece of paper to write it down for you.”

“I don’t need it. I’ve got a head for numbers.”

He rattled it off, and she repeated it back to him from memory. Impressive.

Now, if only her clever mind could tell him what they’d done last night...

* * *

Drew hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Kylie the entire flight from Reno to Boise. He had taken a cab from the airport to his parents’ house, planning to spend a night or two with his folks so the kids could get reacquainted with him before they left for their summer excursion.

He and Luke had been extraordinarily close growing up and had even joined the navy together when they’d turned eighteen. But their careers had taken opposite paths, and due to the transient nature of their assignments, they rarely saw each other. Which meant Drew saw his nephews even less.

Normally his mom and dad—or even their younger sister—would take the eight-year-old twins whenever Luke was sent overseas for an indefinite length of time. But Hannah was participating in a Teachers Without Borders program this summer, and his parents were getting a little too advanced in years to handle the high-energy boys. Besides, it was time Drew stepped in for some family bonding, especially when he finally had a duty station that wasn’t in a war zone.

But after twenty minutes in the house with the wild and rambunctious kids, he wondered if he was equipped to handle so much rowdiness all by himself.

“Uncle Drew,” Aiden called out as he stood on the armrest of the sofa. “You look just like Dad, but with hair.”

“You look just like Caden, but with mustard on your face,” Drew responded. “And get down from there.”

“I’m Caden,” Aiden tried to insist. But Drew was an identical twin himself and knew the old trick.

“Does the switcheroo work on your dad?” Drew doubted it did, and it was best that the boys learn right away that he was going to be just as effective at parenting as his brother. Of course, judging by the complete lack of discipline he’d witnessed so far, he didn’t think the boys had been exposed to any effective parenting, no matter how much Luke adored his children.

“Not when he’s here. But when we Skype him, we can usually fool him good. And we fool Grammie all the time.”

“Well, Grammie should know better. After all, nobody’s better at the twin switch than me and your old man.”

At that moment, Caden ran by, shoving a brownie into his mouth as Drew’s mom chased him, a rubber spatula in her hand. “Aiden Andrew Gregson, you bring that brownie back right this minute.”

“Grammie, that’s Caden. I’m Aiden.” The boy who’d been talking to Drew giggled, still balancing on the furniture like a tightrope walker. “See? She mixes us up all the time.”

“Well, it doesn’t help that your names are almost identical, too. It can be confusing for anyone.” Drew lifted Aiden up before planting the boy’s sturdy legs on the floor. What had their parents been thinking, naming them so similarly?

But he didn’t ask this out loud because he wasn’t sure how the kids were reacting to their father’s recent deployment. Their mother had passed away when the boys were three, and Luke had raised them mostly on his own when he wasn’t playing Captain Save-the-World. Yet the past couple of years, they had bounced around so much to accommodate their dad’s dangerous and unpredictable job in special ops, they hadn’t had much consistency.

“Aiden, give me back that spatula,” Drew’s mom yelled, as she chased Caden and his chocolate-covered face back through the living room. She’d now lost her spatula and all control.

“Grammie can never catch us. We’re way too fast for her,” Aiden boasted.

“Caden,” he called out, and the running boy suddenly halted. Drew wasn’t a voice raiser and wasn’t about to start now. Why yell when you could rationally explain your position? Of course, he doubted that his normal communication tools would be as effective with these two.

Plus, he was still somewhat of a novelty, so the boys were sizing him up. He motioned both of the children over to him and knelt down so he didn’t tower over them. His brother had the same build, so he knew they wouldn’t be intimidated by his size. But he wanted to be on eye level with them so they would be forced to look at him to hear what he had to say.

“You two are going to go wash up and get your pajamas on.”

“We don’t want to take no baths,” Caden whined as Aiden dropped to the floor in a dramatic heap.

“Your dad and I didn’t like taking baths when we were your age, either. But we weren’t allowed to have brownies or play Robot Blasters unless we were clean.”

“What are Robot Blasters?” Aiden hopped up to attention, his despair quickly turning to eagerness.

“It’s a special game only for twins. Your dad and I made it up a long time ago, and it’s very secret and unique. I can’t tell you about it until you can show that you’re able to follow rules and directions.”

“I call front bath.” Caden ran off to be first in the bathroom, Aiden hurrying to catch up.

“I hate getting stuck in the stern,” his brother complained, but he followed anyway.

Drew’s mom collapsed on the sofa, clearly winded after her brownie-turned-spatula chase. “I can’t keep up with them like I used to.”

“Where’s Dad?” Drew asked.

“He’s at the health club, doing his water therapy. He’s been staying away more this visit. Says his sciatica has been acting up. But I think he’s just suffering from a case of naughty twinitis.”

His folks had been great parents, involved in everything from the Little League to the Cub Scouts. Marty Gregson had been a youth pastor when he’d met his wife, Donna, a schoolteacher. They’d both had a natural love for children, which Drew’s sister had inherited. But they were at the start of their golden years. And plainly, his unruly nephews were more than their retired lives could handle.

“I swear I love those boys to death, and so does your father. But I can’t tell you how grateful we are that you’re pulling a shift this summer. In fact, Dad didn’t want me to tell you this, but we’ve already got the RV loaded up, and the minute you drive off with the kids, we’re leaving for our grand tour. I thought it only fair to warn you that by the time you make it to the cabin, there won’t be the opportunity for any take-backs.” She must have seen his horrified expression. “I’m kidding, of course. We’ll be a phone call away if you need anything. You guys will be fine.”

Drew plopped down beside her, not sure if he was ready for the biggest responsibility he’d yet to face. He really needed her to tell him there would be light at the end of this tunnel. “It’s only three months, right?”

“I know you can do it, honey. Sure, they’re a handful, but you’re a trained psychologist. You’re used to dealing with behavior outside the norm, right?”

“Mom, I work with soldiers, not children.”

“Drew, it’s about time you settled down. You have a wonderful opportunity to spend time with your nephews and give this whole domesticity thing a try. It’s time to stop analyzing everything from behind all those textbooks of yours and start actually living life. Of course, it’d probably be easier if you were married and had an extra set of hands to help you, but your brother does this on his own all the time.”

Drew thought about Kylie and how, if they were married in the true sense of the word, she’d be helping him. Man, she might be helping him anyway if it turned out that she was pregnant. He didn’t even know if the woman liked kids. Or wanted them.

He was pretty sure he did, but then he looked toward the open bathroom door and saw the soaking wet hallway carpet. Before he could ask his mom about a flooding problem or a possible burst pipe, Donna Gregson shot off the sofa, her bare feet squishing with each running step on the flooded rug.

“Boys, I told you no more playing battleship or hurricane watch in the bathtub.”

A child’s squeal was followed by the crashing sound of water.

“That’s it. I’m going to bed.” His mom retreated, completely drenched from what Drew assumed was a water attack. “You’re on duty for now, Lieutenant Commander. Your father should be home in an hour if you need reinforcements.” She sloshed her way down to the end of the hall, and he heard the lock on the master bedroom door click into place.

After the morning he’d had, he’d promised himself he’d never drink again. But being confronted with two unmanageable nephews—and who knew what other problems awaiting him with Kylie in Sugar Falls—it took several minutes of mindful meditation and an unearthly amount of willpower to head to the linen closet for a stack of towels instead of running directly to his parents’ liquor cabinet.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.