Married by Mistake (Alphalicious Billionaires #1) Read online

  It didn’t hurt to lie to her by omission. He wouldn’t mind being just Brock, the guy who pissed her off, for a little while longer.

  CHAPTER 5

  June

  “Oh my god. These waffles are to die for.” She committed the cardinal sin on her own list of no-no’s and spoke with a mouthful of dough which just happened to be covered in whipped cream and berries. June finished her mouthful and licked whipped cream off her finger.

  “So… what did you remember?” Her caveman partner asked.

  He sat stoically on the edge of the bed, surrounded by trays of food. She’d ordered four different dishes, since she wasn’t sure what he liked. He hadn’t touched any of it. Oh well, more for her.

  “I think we should eat first. Talk second. That eliminates any lingering hanger.”

  “Hanger?”

  “You know, hungry anger. Or whatever. People get hungry and get low blood sugar and it makes them a rage machine. I also think it’s best for a hangover.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” her caveman groaned.

  No. No way. Not my caveman. Never. “Well, how about names?” It would sure beat calling him her anything.

  “Right. Brock.” He stuck out a hand. She glanced down at her sticky fingers and reached out anyway. She nearly gasped at the jolt of awareness that rippled up her arm. It wasn’t like a shock of electricity or any of that romantic sappy crap. It was- oh god, it burned alright, in all the wrong spots. Even the briefest touch of his skin set her off like a firecracker inside.

  June carefully tucked her hand back at her side. She reached for her fork, since that was far safer. She’d stab at him if he attempted to touch her again. Not that it was his fault his god-like, sinful body, made her want to ovulate on the spot. Damn biology. She couldn’t help that the guy was a panty dropper. Or that a part of her was jumping up and down and doing cartwheels because she’d actually slept with him. A woman’s wet dream. Like, every woman’s wet dream.

  She’d definitely have a story for Jasmine and Mandy. No, wait. They’d probably see the guy. She was married to him after all. That was going to take some ingenuity to undo. Her stomach tightened at the thought of strutting around showing him off like a proud peacock. What is wrong with me? No. No, no, no, no, no. I have to get rid of this guy and the sooner the better.

  “Do you have a name?”

  She snapped out of her thoughts. She tried to hide her embarrassment, but she knew her cheeks were probably glowing a cherry red. She dipped her head. “June.”

  He seemed like a Brock, for some reason. She was honestly glad that his name actually fit. If he’d been named Bob or something, she’d have to keep calling him Caveman, since it would have been far more apt. Brock was a good name. A solid name. It reminded her of a mountain or a pile of rocks. A pile of bronzed muscle. Shit.

  June pointed to the nightstand, next to the phone. “I guess we could have just looked at the marriage certificate. I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that’s what’s in that black folder. The whole writing on the front that says ‘marriage certificate’ kind of gives it away.”

  Brock inclined his head and his sensuous lips turned up in a half smile that revealed the crinkles at the corners of his spectacular eyes. “I didn’t see it before.”

  “Neither did I, until I went to use the phone to order this. I didn’t open it. I’m too scared to look, but that folder sure seems official.” She pointed at the food. “Anyway, I think you need to eat. Please. I can’t have this conversation with you if you’re going to go into another one your rages. Maybe your anger issues stem from being hungry.”

  He shook his head, amusement flashing in his eyes this time, not annoyance like before. “I don’t have anger issues. Ask anyone. They would say that I’m a pretty level-headed person.”

  “I’m sure. Does this count?”

  “Does what count?”

  “A marriage that neither of us remember?”

  That did it. His smile faded and, shockingly enough, a dull pink tinge appeared on his cheeks. God, the guy had high, nice cheekbones. He had some damn good genetics to thank for that godlike bone structure. Damn it again. Damn him. Damn it all. Why can’t he just look like a troll? This would be so much easier. Instead, June could practically feel her ovaries generating eggs.

  “No, I guess that doesn’t count. Why don’t you tell me what you remembered? Maybe it will help me remember something as well. I- of course I’ve never done anything like this.”

  “Have you ever slept with an escort? I would say that’s worse.”

  “No, I haven’t slept with an escort! Where do you get these ideas?”

  She shook her head and popped a forkful of the best eggs she’d ever tasted, along with homemade salsa, sinful sour cream, and amazingly fresh guacamole into her mouth. She chewed and sighed with delight.

  “I don’t know. Just something you said before.” She winked at him. “I’ll tell you, if you eat something.”

  He sighed and ran a hand over the world’s most sexual sounding stubble on his even sexier jaw. “If you have to know, my stomach is a mess. I don’t need to eat anything.”

  She pointed to a piece of toast. “Try that. And some water. If that doesn’t do it, there’s probably a pharmacy down the street. That should fix you up.”

  Brock rolled his eyes. She realized that they had one thing in common. They were both stubborn. If she had a dollar for every time someone complained about her stubborn streak, she’d be a damn millionaire already. No, a billionaire.

  It would have been nice, having all that money. Instead she had a shitty little apartment back home in San Diego. Even if the place was crap, the city was nice. She had a horrible job she hated doing reception for a place that did people’s income taxes. Yeah, real fun shit. She had no social life to speak of, minus the times she went to Jasmine’s or Mandy’s or decided to go out shopping. When she could afford it. Which wasn’t often. The Vegas thing had been their treat. The three of them were also sharing a hotel room.

  “Shit! I should call my friends. They’re going to be wondering where the hell I am. They’ve probably reported me missing by now.”

  “Yeah- you should.”

  “But what would I tell them?”

  “Maybe you could just text them and say you’re okay and you’ll talk to them about it all later. It’s Vegas. I would say if you’re here and you’re single and you were wearing a dress like that,” he pointed to the puddle on the floor, “then maybe your friends know why you didn’t come back?”

  “Shut up about the dress already,” she groaned. “There’s that judgement coming out again.”

  “I’m not judging,” Brock protested. “I’m sure it looked really good on. I’m just- saying.”

  “Right.” She rolled her eyes and slid off the bed, careful that her t-shirt dress didn’t ride up and reveal a whole lot of what he’d already seen. Damn it!

  Her body flushed, and she felt damp. She realized she was sweating. All over. It was probably just the hangover that was doing it. Sweating out all the impurities.

  June searched the floor for her clutch. She remembered having a clutch. The memory of getting dressed and going out was pre-black out and oddly still intact. She found it, but her phone wasn’t inside. It was completely MIA along with her room card and the sparse amount of cash she’d remembered putting in there the night before.

  “Damn it,” she swore under her breath. “Most of my stuff is missing. My ID is still in here, thank god. And my credit card, but my cash is gone, my room card and my phone.”

  Annoyingly enough, Brock shrugged. He produced a phone she wasn’t sure when he’d grabbed, out of the back pocket of his jeans. “You can use mine.”

  She didn’t want to accept, but she did. She fired off a quick text to Jasmine and to Mandy, just in case one of their phones was missing or had died, because hell, it was Vegas, telling them that she was alive and that she’d be back at the hotel that afternoon. She p
assed the phone slowly back to Brock, but unwilling to have chance touching again, she dropped it down onto the bed at the last second.

  His eyebrow quirked at her, but he picked it up without saying a thing. He also downed a glass of water like water was going extinct and took small bites of a piece of toast.

  “So… what did you remember?” he asked her again. He was like a broken record, but she knew she had to come clean.

  “I- I had this memory of us. We were sitting at a poker table in a poker room. I don’t know what hotel we were at. I was playing first. You sat down half an hour after I got there, or something like that. I was nervous. You made me nervous. I had a few drinks. They’re free after all, if you’re playing. I got a little bolder. I guess you’d say.” She knew she was scarlet at the moment. “Pretty soon I was more than bold. I was drunk, and I knew it. Everything was kind of moving in slow motion and I figured I should get out of there before I blew all the money I’d earned. And I was up. I know that much. I started with fifty bucks and I’m pretty sure I remember a way bigger stack than that. I- I don’t know what happened to it.”

  “Maybe we paid for the wedding with it.”

  June’s mouth dropped. “Was that actually a joke?”

  Brock put the last piece of toast into his mouth in a move that was far more sexual that it should ever have been for a guy eating toast. “I’m capable of it, you know.”

  “I don’t. But thanks.” June sighed. She turned her attention back to the waffles. She cut off a chunk with her fork but didn’t eat it. “I- whatever. I remember we were in this hand. I have a feeling you were flirting with me.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t the other way around?”

  She shot him a pointed look. He blinked back at her, confused. “Trust me, I know it wasn’t the other way around.” Right. Like she’d try and flirt with him first. Mr. Sex God. Give me a break. “Anyway, we were in this hand. We were right down to the end and you turned and whispered to me that you were going all in. You had me well covered. I- I’m not afraid to take a bet like that. I knew I would win. Uh- but you said we should bet something else. Make it fun. I thought you meant do something like strip later. Which- I guess I was insanely drunk by that point, because I actually agreed.” I would have agreed sober. Or wanted to. “Uh- you said that- that if I lost, I had to marry you.”

  “What?” Brock’s far too fuckable mouth fell open. June shut her eyes. She did not want to imagine that mouth on her body. An image of the purple love bite on her thigh hit her hard. She shifted, clamping her thighs together to stop the burn from travelling up. It had absolutely zero effect. “I wouldn’t have said that.”

  “We were drunk. Both of us. We’d been drinking the entire time. You were ordering whiskeys and tipping twenty dollars at a time. Needless to say, the waitresses liked you. I- I’m a lightweight. I haven’t drunk in a long time. I guess I figured it was Vegas and the drinks were strong and free, so might as well.”

  “And you took the bet?”

  “I guess so. I don’t remember agreeing. You’re the one who made it in the first place.”

  “No.” Brock shook his head in hard denial. His eyes blazed into hers. “I never would have done that.”

  “Well, you did. I’m not a liar.” She titled her chin upright, offended that he’d sit there and accuse her of playing him false.

  “No. You’re just a thief.”

  “I beg your pardon!”

  “You stole my toothbrush.”

  “I put it back where I found it.”

  “After you used it.”

  “You didn’t seem to have any complaints about my mouth last night.”

  That shut him up. His lips pressed into a thin, hard line. His eyes turned stony and that vein, the angry vein, throbbed in his forehead. “Look,” he finally said. “I guess we have to stop trying to figure out how it happened-”

  “I told you how it happened.”

  That vein jumped harder with every rapid beat of his heart. His nostrils flared. “However, it happened, we’re married now. Legally. I- I guess we have only one choice.”

  “One?” June stared back, guardedly. She was definitely waiting for the ‘but’ or the ‘and then’, because there sure as hell was going to be an and then. There was only one way to end a marriage that she knew of and it started with a D. She popped a piece of waffle into her mouth to distract herself, though it was now cold and no longer tasted as fantastic as she thought it had before.

  “We can stay married and make this work.”

  “What?” Because she was who she was, and even at the best of times she wasn’t graceful, she did the most un-lady like thing she could have and spat out her mouthful of waffle right onto the clean, crisp, white sheets.

  CHAPTER 6

  Brock

  By the look on June’s face, anyone would have thought he’d just suggested something repulsive. Like salad tossing. What the hell? Why would her… why would that come to mind?

  Okay, not salad tossing. That’s not even repulsive when it comes to her. Damn it! He tried to think of something horrible. Granny sex. No… god. What was wrong with him? Picking up dog poop in the spring. That was it. That’s what her face looked like. Her pooper scooper disgusted, nose scrunched, skin pale, lips downturned, eyes wide, dog poo face.

  “What?” June gaped at him like that waffle she just spat out left a bad taste in her mouth. “What did you just say? Why on earth wouldn’t we get an annulment. Or a divorce. Or- or something!”

  “Well- you obviously liked the idea of getting married when I suggested it or we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “I was drunk!” She flashed him the bird as her shirt rode up high, which took him off guard.

  His dick responded, big time. Fuck me? Certainly. “Yes, well- that doesn’t matter. We’re here now.”

  “It doesn’t matter?” June sputtered. “Of course, it matters. We were both so hammered neither of us remembers actually getting married. That means something. I can’t believe that wherever we went they actually performed the ceremony.”

  “I can. When I’m drunk, it would take quite a lot to know it.”

  “I…” June’s mouth opened and closed like a fish blubbing for water. “I guess I kind of do too. My best friends always say the only way they can tell when I’m blacked out- and it never, ever happens because I usually have a limit and some self-control- is to look at my eyes.” She wrung her hands together and jumped off the bed. Plates nearly flew all over the place. One with eggs and ham barely missed flipping off the edge of the bed. It rocked and luckily for the cleaning staff and his incidentals charges, it stayed put. “Oh god. No. Did whoever married us think we were actually two consenting adults?”

  “Well- we are two consenting adults. We had ID. We were of age. All that. If you take being blacked out from the equation, it is Vegas. People hitch up all the time here.”

  “I- oh god this is such a mess.” June’s hand flew to her stomach like she was going to be sick. He stood slowly and closed in. She was so preoccupied that she didn’t even pull away when he set a hand on her arm. The fire of her skin burned all the way up his arm and flooded his body. He felt like he’d just doused himself in gas and ran straight for the match. Ka-boom. He was combusting on the spot.

  God, I wish I could remember last night. I wish I remembered what she looked like naked. What she tasted like. What her pussy was like when I was inside of her.

  Okay, that definitely did not help his cause. He kept his epic erection away from June. She stared up at him, eyes wide.

  “I’ll tell you what. We clearly got married for a reason. I’ll tell you mine. Honestly, my parents want me to settle down. I’ve pretty much given up on finding love. They want me to get a wife so they can have grandkids. Of course, they would have preferred love to be involved, but I wouldn’t rule that out with time.”

  “You’re ridiculous.” June’s eyes narrowed, but there was no heat behind her words.

  �
��You didn’t let me finish.” He closed his eyes and saw himself kicking his own ass for his pathetic show of vulnerability that June either didn’t recognize or didn’t give a shit about. “I- it could be fun. So what if we didn’t meet conventionally? So what if we skipped the whole boring dating shit? It’s pretentious and over rated. Maybe more people just need to cut to the chase already. It saves us a lot of time and money, fights and bullshit. We’ve already decided we can sleep together. That we work in that regard.”

  June tore her arm away from him and stared at him like she wanted to rip his hand off for touching her and slap him across the face with it. God, that image should not turn me on. What the hell is going on with me?

  “What are you talking about? Neither of us remember that.”

  “I saw two condoms in the garbage in the bathroom.”

  “Two?” June let out a long exhale. “Uh- well thank god we used condoms. I mean, I’m on the pill, but still… nutting in someone isn’t something anyone should be doing without knowing a person first.”

  “I’m sorry- did you just say nutting?”

  June’s face turned a brilliant shade of red. It was like a whole-body blush. She let out a low chuckle and he couldn’t help but follow along. Pretty soon they were both laughing. He had to swipe at his eyes to clear the moisture there.

  “I’m sorry. I grew up with two older brothers. All my friends growing up were guys. I didn’t have good girlfriends until college. Sometimes I can be a little bit crass.”

  “Perfect. See? You’re perfect already. I want my wife to not give a shit about being proper. I want her to be feisty, to be the kind of girl who uses my toothbrush and my deodorant and who fearlessly unzips my luggage and helps herself to clothes.”

  One brow lifted, but luckily, so did the corner of her mouth. She was so pretty like that, looking like she didn’t know whether she wanted to kick him in the crotch or wrap her arms around his neck and give the whole physical thing a shot they’d actually remember. Yeah right. I wish. Her eyes swept over him.