Gretchen

I woke up naked, hung over, and covered in the crumbs of a half-eaten grilled cheese sandwich.

Boy howdy. Did I know how to party or what?

My cell phone rang. And rang. And rang.

My annoying Beyoncé ring tone wouldn’t cure a hangover. In fact, more alcohol seemed to be the only real remedy. But I’d had enough to drink last night at the bachelorette party.

Who was I kidding? I had all of the booze at the party.

The cell phone kept ringing. Too cruel. The sun already blasted me. The headache debilitated what the nausea did not. I didn’t even know the date, time, or what the hell happened after the other bridesmaids and I invented a new cocktail.

Well, it wasn’t much of a cocktail. I’d swirled the remnants of every bottle left in the limo and drank until it didn’t taste bad anymore. I didn’t recommend it, but it did the job. Especially for a lightweight like me who only ever drank when she was looking to make big mistakes.

I groped for my phone. Squinted at the screen. I couldn’t read the name, but it would only be one person. He was the only one who ever called me.

“Hello, sunshine,” Dad said. He didn’t need to sound so chipper this early in the morning. The clock came into focus. Afternoon. “How did it go?”

Well, I was alive. And Dad would have called me a hell of a lot sooner if Chloe hadn’t survived the night.

“Fine.” Damn. My voice cracked. Not only did I drink the contents of the bottle, I must’ve chowed down on the glass itself. “What’s going on?”

“Thought you could tell me.”

I’d blacked out sometime after the stripper, unfortunately it’d come too late to avoid the story Chloe told her friends, the retelling of her first weekend away with my father.

As a result, I’d never eat whipped cream again. Or hot fudge.

Or strangely, lemon bars. They had always been his favorite. Now I knew why.

“Is everything okay?” I asked. “I made sure the limo took Chloe home.”

“You pickled my fiancée.”

“Sorry. Didn’t realize she had a curfew.”

Dad snorted. “Haven’t seen her this drunk since formal.”

Jesus Christ. “Everything’s fine, Dad.”

“Just wanted to make sure you got home okay. If she was in that state, I can only imagine the party want well.”

Who knew? I couldn’t remember what happened last night.

Limo. Good.

Dinner out. Good.

Ironfield’s finest strippers. Adequate.

The booze. A blessing.

“You want to tell me about the peacock feathers, or shouldn’t I bother?” Dad asked.

I frowned. “Peacock feathers?”

“Chloe came home with them. Figured you guys had a burlesque show or something.”

That hadn’t been on the itinerary, but Chloe promised to give one to my father after the party.

That was not the image I needed in my head. Ever. And yet, it would forever stay with me.

I groaned and rolled out of the bed. What had I done with my clothes? I was an adventurous girl, up-to-and-including pink polka-dotted pajamas. Not quite stylish, but they kept a girl warm during winter when the tiny house with its tiny insulation and giant plate-glass window couldn’t keep up with the heater. In the summer, the house wasn’t too bad. Especially as a sweet breeze carried through the two hundred square-foot home.

I peeked over the loft. The French style doors swayed in the breeze. That probably wasn’t the most secure way to spend the night naked, but what could happen in Butterpond? The only scandalous things that happened here involved my father, his college intern, and the bachelorette party that had nowhere to go in a limo we’d rented for the entire night.

Ambrose hunkered down on the porch, snoozing in the sunlight. I whistled. He hardly raised his head. We were both late for breakfast, but he took it a little more personally.

Dad laughed. “You’re gonna have one hell of a headache.”

“Too late.”

“See, I said you’d have fun with Chloe, didn’t I?” He didn’t have to sound so happy about it. “Just gotta give her a chance, sunshine.”

Sure. I’d give the kid enough jump rope to hang herself. There was only one reason a twenty-two-year-old girl would chase after a fifty-eight-year-old man.

But my father didn’t realize that. I frowned. “We did have fun.”

Dad hummed. “Told you. You should listen to your old man.”

I poured Ambrose some kibbles into his bowl. With a lazy yawn and shake of his head, he stalked his way to the door. I stared at his feet and tried to remember what the hell we’d done to the poor critter.

“My dog’s toenails are pink,” I said.

“Sounds fashionable.” Dad chuckled. “Did Ambrose have a good night too?”

He must’ve. He wore a tie. Orange. It clashed with the Barbie pink nail polish. Then again, who was I to critique his ensemble? I’d only wrapped myself in a robe.

“Did we see you last night?” I asked.

Dad snorted. “Believe me, sunshine. I wish I could’ve seen you last night. I would have taken some great photos of that drunken excursion. Something to show at your wedding.”

Yeah right. Because I had so many prospects kneeling before me with rings. “So, why is my dog wearing a tie?”

Dad cleared his throat. “Better than a G string?”

The strippers took those with them. I frowned, crashing on my bench, which also happened to be my sofa, dining room chairs, and general storage in the tiny house. Strange that two square feet of cottage could get me into such trouble.

“Gretchen,” dad asked. “You’re an adult. And it’s none of my business. But did you go home alone last night?”

My dog was wearing a man’s tie.

My front door was wide open.

The remnants of a grilled cheese sandwich rested on my two-burner stove.

Two wine glasses sat on the table. Empty.

Oh boy.

“Dad, I got a call you back...”

“Don’t forget to take some aspirin.”

I hung up. Ambrose plunked down beside me, offering that knowing look only a dog could give. The sort that said, yeah, I chase my tail and lick my ass, but at least I didn’t make the mistakes you made last night.

How drunk had I been? The memories were hazy. I remembered giggling. Getting egged on by Chloe. The girls in the limo laughing. And then the single word that I had whispered.

Marius.

I’d said his name. A lot. The rest of the night faded into a fuzzy navel blur. I’d been talking about him. Regaling the girls with stories about him. Describing his eyes, body, and the gravel roughness of his voice.

And I did mention the word sexy. Also the word one-night stand.

But I hadn’t been serious. My survival instincts had kicked in. At that point in the night, someone had to talk about having sex with a man that wasn’t my father. But it was all fun and games. Just gossip about Marius.

I didn’t…

I wouldn’t…

There was no way I had invited Marius Payne to my house after the bachelorette party.

It was ridiculous. I wasn’t that sort of girl. My nights involved quick showers, bowls of Raman noodles, and an hour or two of my desired craft for the month. This summer, I’d attempted needlework. Of course, I was terrible at embroidery, so I’d transitioned it into a first-aid lesson. Made for a fun, bloody Saturday night. At least the needle gave me a little prick.

My weekends had taken a hit since dad started seeing Chloe. I had taken care of him for a long time. Ever since Mom died, I’d been the one making dinners, cleaning the house, helping with the bills. And now? Dad was getting taken care of by Chloe—in more ways than I cared to know.

I was used to being lonely on the weekends. But not naked.

Oh, Lord. What did I do?

I must have seduced him. Had my way with him. Just my luck that I couldn’t remember it. What should have been one of the most magical nights of my life was now a hazy blur of sex, red wine, and grilled cheese sandwiches.

No wonder my dog looked at me with such disgust.

“Don’t you judge me,” I said. “I remember when you had a thing for Mrs. Miller’s poodle. We all make mistakes when we’re young.”

At least I hadn’t needed to face mine this morning.

Marius must have left sometime after the sex.

That bastard.

Sure, I might have been a one-night stand, but I deserved a good morning, if only for the opportunity to tell him how terrible my behavior was, how unbelievably inappropriately I must’ve acted, and how I never, ever brought men to my home like that.

And instead, Marius had left. Without a word. Without even a note scribbled on my countertop.

Well, if I had no recollection of last night, I could still hold on to my dignity until the memories came back. I’d made a mistake, and I was going to confront it.

Which meant confronting him.

How could I have been so stupid? Flirting with him? Letting him kiss me? I’d left the farm in a frenzy of lust, and then I’d consumed my weight in alcohol. No wonder I’d booty called him.

This was going to be humiliating.

I grabbed my purse and my dog and marched out of the house.

Butterpond wasn’t a large community. My family’s fifty acres abutted the Payne farm. My father hadn’t planted crops. Most of the property was reserved for his veterinary clinic. Dad had hoped I would follow in his footsteps, but I couldn’t handle the family business. Could hardly spend more than twenty minutes indoors at a time, let alone six years in veterinary school.

No wonder he wanted to retire. Closing the clinic and moving to the Bahamas had made sense. I just never expected him to take his intern with him.

I knew it was a bad idea to move out of our house. I’d built the cottage on our land, skirting Butterpond’s more stringent zoning laws by keeping the square footage to barely larger than a shed. But it was all I needed. Enough space to give him privacy and independence after mom died, but close enough that I could still check in on him.

I hadn’t done too good of a job. I’d moved out. Chloe had moved in. And now my new stepmother was the woman who’d spent her last summer as a babysitter for the Hoffman triplets.

Fantastic.

My walk of shame delivered me to the Payne farm after only a mile’s worth of disgrace and indignation. Most girls dragged their asses home. I took my booty straight to his door, knocked hard, and crossed my arms.

The least he could have done was stay the night and gloat about it in the morning.

This crush was becoming a pain in my ass.

The door opened. One of his brothers, Tidus, gave me a sly grin and leaned against the doorframe, tattoos peeking from under the tight white shirt clinging to his muscles. A rough, untamed scruff on his chin framed a lopsided smile. His hair was long, tickling passed his ears. The quintessential bad boy. Had quite the reputation in town, and yet I knew the truth. Tidus was a teddy bear.

“Oh, Gretchen.” He whistled. “Please be looking for me.”

A woman’s voice rose behind him, shooing him away from the door. “Down, boy. She’s not here for you.”

Micah—friend, confidant, and absolutely the last person I wanted to tell about my indiscretion—sauntered to the door. Her soft sundress highlighted a suddenly apparent baby bump. A little souvenir from this summer’s county fair. She offered me a hug, but this wasn’t a friendly visit.

“Don’t tell me Chloe sent you back for more pictures of the farm?” Micah arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think we can make the fields hypoallergenic like she wanted.”

Right now, the allergies were the least of our concerns. It was the vegan menu that scared me more.

“Is Marius here?” I asked.

Micah giggled. “Yeah. He’s storming around the den. Got his prosthetic stuck in a floorboard this morning, and now we're dealing with the fallout. Why?”

She’d find out sooner or later. “We had sex.”

Micah hadn’t expected that confession. Neither had I. No sense denying it. Pretty sure the entire house would hear this fight.

She struggled with the thought. “You had sex?”

“Yes.”

“You had sex with Marius.”

“Yes.”

Micah stared at me, the pregnancy doing its magic and glistening her already rich, cocoa skin. Her delicate fingers tangled in her curls. Quitting her job had softened her. She abandoned her usual bun in favor of the delicate ponytail instead.

“You.” She pointed at me. “Had sex.” She gestured into the den behind her. “With that?”

“I was very drunk.”

“I think you still are.” Micah frowned. “I don’t remember you coming here last night.”

“Prince Charming took his carriage to my house.”

“Are you sure—”

“Micah, I don’t need girl talk. Just damage control. I can handle this.”

A drunken night together gave me the permission I needed to enter his room without knocking. I burst through the entry, crossed my arms, and realized why it wasn’t a good idea to startle a Navy SEAL.

Marius lurched off the couch, armed himself with a lamp, and crashed awkwardly into the coffee table as he’d forgotten to attach his leg. He tossed the lamp aside, but it crashed to the floor. Shards of glass embedded in his good foot, and he swore as he landed on his ass, eyes wide.

“What the hell are you doing?” He brushed the glass off his foot and ignored a bloody cut. “I know you’re interested, but give a man a little warning before you barge into his bedroom.”

Marius must’ve never worn a shirt. The boxers were just as nice though. Silken. Thin. Hardly containing a bulge that followed the soldier to attention. He didn’t need the prosthetic. He was already growing a third leg.

Sweat slickened his heavy muscles. His chest heaved. Shocked awake. I was lucky he only armed himself with the lamp. Every part of him flexed, hard and tempting. He stared at me, eyes a camo green, slowly warming is he gazed over my curves.

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” He grinned. “I knew you’d be back.”

“Can you blame me?”

Marius relaxed on the couch. Arms out. An invitation?

He had a lot of nerve.

“Knew you couldn’t resist,” he said.

“Were you asleep?”

“Had a long night.”

Very funny. The bastard couldn’t even stay a couple extra hours in my bed? “And you thought you’d sleep here?”

“Where else would I sleep?”

I didn’t feel like playing games. “With me?”

Marius laughed. “You really don’t bullshit, do you? At least you get what you want.”

He was unbelievable. Selfish and inconsiderate. He didn’t even stay to talk about what happened. Couldn’t care less. Took what he wanted and left.

“I thought you would have a bit of class.” I crossed my arms. “I should’ve known better.”

Marius laughed. “You want to tell me what’s got your panties in a wad?”

I scowled. “I think a lot clearer when I’m wearing them.”

He didn’t disagree. “Most people do.”

“So, is that your game?” I asked. “Have a little fun? Fool around for a while? Then leave?”

Marius frowned. “What?”

I couldn’t even look at him. I bent down and called Ambrose to my side. I slipped the tie from around his neck and tossed it at the most infuriating man in the universe.

“Here.” He could choke on it. “You left this at my place.”

Marius twisted the tie in his hands. Frowned. He held it up. “What the hell makes you think I’m the kind of guy who wears a tie?

“Very funny.”

“Look, sweetness, I don’t know what side of the bed you woke up on this morning—”

“You wouldn’t, would you?” I would throttle him if I hadn’t already sworn never to lay hands on him again. “You’re not innocent in this. Don’t you see anything wrong with your behavior?”

Marius raised his eyebrows. “Believe me, I’ve done a lot of shit in my time. It’s not all been good. It’s not all been honorable. But I own that. You want to tell me what this is all about?”

I’d never met a man so frustratingly arrogant before. It served me right for letting anyone so coarse, aggressive, and uncivilized into my bed.

For as long as I could remember, I’d told myself that I would fall in love at first sight, just like my mother and father did. I would find the man of my dreams, and that the connection would be instant. From that moment forward our lives would instantly change for the better. We would be happy.

We’d be together.

And then I wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.

Then again, feeling alone was preferable to being an idiot. An idiot with a raging headache, a heavy heart, and a blood alcohol level that would prevent me from driving a car.

“You know,” I said. “I knew you were just an arrogant prick. But I still thought you were cute.”

Marius tucked his arms behind his head, stretching his glorious muscles. “That so?”

“Obviously.”

“Not so obvious.”

Great. Now he insulted me. Did he think I did this with every guy I met?

“It was my own damned fault,” I said. “I knew you were dangerous.”

It offended him. “Dangerous.”

“Yeah. Talking the way you were. Acting like you’re God’s gift to women. Like I should thank you for the opportunity to get into bed with you.”

Marius shrugged. “Everyone likes a little gratitude.”

“Well, I am not grateful. Not in the least.” I pointed out. “It was a mistake, and it won’t happen again. You understand me? I was vulnerable. Upset. And I was very, very drunk.”

He rubbed his face. “Drunk?”

How long had he gone without a woman? “You couldn’t tell? I guess I should be flattered that I’m not an embarrassing drunk.”

“Not embarrassing. Just confusing.”

“You are such an asshole.”

He leaned forward. His eyes narrowed, dark and piercing. “I don’t doubt that, but maybe you can help me out here. What exactly did I do that made me such an asshole?”

“Are you serious?”

“A man deserves the opportunity to defend himself.”

After what he did? Hardly. “Look, I get that this is something men do without a second thought. And I know men aren’t nearly as sentimental about these things, but I don’t want you thinking about me that way. I am not that kind of girl.”

“What kind of girl?”

“The kind who has one-night stands.”

“You made that clear yesterday.”

“And what we did yesterday was absolutely wrong.”

Marius laughed. “Having a conversation?”

“No. Making love.”

Marius blinked hard before a deep, grumbling, caramel laugh consumed him. The sound tickled me from head to toe, and it warmed everything in between. I regretted not remembering anything of last night.

Then again, how good could it have been if I didn’t remember it?

Maybe that was a blessing in disguise, for me and Marius.

His words were lost in hysterics. “You think I make love?”

I wasn’t in the mood for this. “Fine. Whatever you want to call it. We fucked.”

He didn’t stop laughing. “Was it good for you?”

“Are you serious?”

“I always want to make sure my lady has a good time.”

Why did I even bother? “It doesn’t matter. Because from now on? We're going to pretend like it never happened.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he said.

“But you should know I am utterly humiliated.”

“No reason for that,” Marius said. He winked. “You will be humiliated, but you don’t have to be now.”

The last thing I needed was for this man to tell me how I should or shouldn’t feel. “I’m in a bad place right now. I think you can understand that.”

“Why? I’m having a good day. I just got laid apparently.”

“I’m not dealing with my father’s wedding very well.” I’d already had sex with him. A little honesty wouldn’t harm anyone. “And it’s not because my dad doesn’t deserve happiness. I want him to have a good life and a good retirement, but I don’t think his bride has good intentions. Now that’s my problem, not yours. But I had to find out what kind of person she was, and that meant going to the bachelorette party. So I did. And then I felt terrible because she actually seems like a pretty nice girl. But then she started talking about the possibility of children, and that’s when I consumed all the alcohol.”

“And that’s when you got it in your head to call me?”

I gritted my teeth. “I know how stupid it was. I’m not a girl who just jumps into bed with people. I’m looking for real romance. And there’s no shame in that. I want to meet somebody, fall madly in love, and make reckless decisions.”

“Don’t let me stand in the way of your dreams.” Marius winked. “As long as I get the star in them.”

“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You already are. Yesterday, there you were. This gorgeous man. Talking to me. Flirting with me. So, of course, when I get a little frustrated, and a lot drunk, my first thought is to alleviate my frustrations with the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

He smiled. “You think I’m sexy?”

“I figured that was obvious.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Why was he making this so much harder? “Look, I would appreciate it if you would just wipe what happened last night from your memory.”

“I think you already did, sweetness.”

“I’m trying.”

“You don’t have to try that hard.”

I groaned. “Can you please take this seriously?”

He leaned forward, giving me a shrug. “Why don’t you tell me what happened from the beginning. Pretend I wasn’t there.”

Great. Now he wanted the color commentary. Reliving his night of conquest? That was more pathetic than leaving in the morning.

“You came over,” I said. “We opened a bottle of wine. Made a grilled cheese sandwich. Had sex. Then you left without a goodbye.”

“Grilled cheese, huh?”

“And you left the door open.”

“How inconsiderate of me.” He interrupted me with a raised hand, his eyes glowing a mischievous, impish green. “So, let me get this straight. You’re saying that a Navy SEAL who had been overseas and embedded with a squad of men for the past six months, a man who very nearly died, a man who has only been touched by nurses for the past three months, a man who is given an opportunity to fuck an absolutely beautiful woman, would, on his own volition, leave in the morning without so much as a morning kiss ? You think that a desperate, lonely, eager man—looking for his first score in months—would sneak out after only one night of sex?”

I pouted. “Probably because you knew I wouldn’t give you another go round.”

Marius shook his head. “Gretchen, I’ve heard of people being blackout drunk, but I’ve never heard of hallucinations. What the hell did you drink last night?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I need to ask you the same question. Do you honestly think I came over to your house, had a glass of wine, ate a grilled cheese sandwich, had sex with you, and left without a word?” He held my stare. “Sweetness, listen to me carefully. I wasn’t at your house last night.”

“Of course, you were.”

He pointed to my dog. “That’s not my tie.”

Oh no.

“It’s not?”

“You didn’t call me. I didn’t come over. You didn’t seduce me. You certainly didn’t make me a grilled cheese sandwich.” He winked. “And, believe me, if I had come over, beautiful. You would have remembered every last second of my fucking. And there’s no way in hell I would ever leave a woman as sexy as you naked in bed without another taste.”

Uh-oh.

I stepped back and collided with my newfound shame. “So, you weren’t at my house yesterday?”

“No, ma’am.”

“We didn’t have sex?”

He snorted. “Do you feel like you’re satisfied?”

“Not in the least.”

His smile was a grenade, and I’d pulled the pin. “Then I can guarantee, if I’d been over your place last night, there’s no way you be out of bed yet. No way you’d be sitting down today either. Your voice would be hoarse from screaming my name. Your body would be a mess of sweat and cream. And I would have fucked some very good memories into you.” He licked his lip. “Gotta say, sweetness. That’s one hell of a fantasy you had last night. Sorry I wasn’t a part of it.”

And that’s when the night came back to me.

An hour too late to make a difference.

The limo ride with a passed-out Chloe. Our frolick through Butterpond with half of the bridesmaids, Ambrose, and a bottle of wine. A detour through someone’s house. Peacocks. Suiting up Ambrose in the tie after painting his nails. We’d made him ring bearer just before the vomiting began.

I squeezed my eyes shut. My favorite part of the night came roaring back.

Going home, super alone and depressed.

The best combination.

I’d almost been desperate enough to dial the number my phone, but I’d made the sandwich instead. At the time, I’d pledged myself to that sandwich and only that sandwich.

Also the wine.

And, of course, like everything else in my life, it was gone in a few minutes.

That’s when I went to sleep.

That’s when I fabricated an elaborate fantasy with a man who not only realized how insane I was but also now knew exactly how much I wanted him.

I could die now. I hoped I would die now. But I was one bottle of Jack too short of alcohol poisoning, and I wasn’t about to drop another hundred dollars on a bar tab to encourage my liver to finish the job.

I stumbled backwards. Marius laughed.

“I knew you wanted me,” he said. “Could have just taken me up on the offer. Would have saved us time.”

“Oh, God.”

“No sense regretting something that ever happened. Let’s make it happen. I can make you feel a hell of a lot better than you do now.”

I’d already hit rock bottom. I couldn’t go down even if I’d wanted to. “Absolutely not.”

Marius laughed. “Come on. I’m the man of your dreams.”

“No. Now you’re a part of a living nightmare.”

“Aren’t you a little curious?”

“I think I can leave it to my imagination.”

I had no idea what would kill me first—my own stupidity, the embarrassment, or the swirl of the hangover beating at my stomach. I backed out of the room. Squeezed my eyes shut. Willed a stray lightning bolt to strike me where I stood.

“Please forget about this,” I said. “Believe me. We are so lucky we didn’t make the biggest mistake of our lives.”

Marius followed me, crossing his arms only to flex those perfect muscles. “Leaving could be the worst decision you’ve ever made. Think about what you’re missing.”

I was thinking about it.

And it was horrifying, not just because I almost broke my heart, but because I was already regretting not having that night with him.

“This is never going to happen,” I said. Even I didn’t believe it. “Forget it, Marius Payne. I’m looking for the real deal. And you aren’t it.”

“Sweetness, take my advice. Stop looking for the man of your dreams.” His dark, sensual words turned into a damning promise. “A girl like you needs to find a man who can keep her up all night.”