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