Marrying Mr. Wrong (Dirty Martini Running Club #3) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,27

being dramatic.” I slid my phone out of my pocket and started a text to Oliver.

“What are you doing?”

“Texting Oliver to send my wife flowers.”

“She’s not your wife.”

I glanced up at her. “According to the state of Nevada she is.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Fine, have it your way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You’re my lawyer and I hear your legal advice loud and clear.”

My phone buzzed with a text from Oliver, but I’d already decided flowers weren’t enough. And I was going to need to see to this personally.

I headed toward my room to shower. “Thanks, Althea. See you tomorrow.”

Indulging in a smug self-congratulatory smile, I left Althea to finish her whiskey and see herself out. I was going to take this little problem I’d created and turn it into something else entirely. So we’d gotten married. It wasn’t the end of the world. Sophie Abbott was sweet as sugar, hot as a sweltering summer day in Texas, and, for the time being, my wife.

Whether or not I’d taken her to bed in Vegas, I was going to. And this time it was going to be a night we’d both remember.

11

Sophie

Monday morning was so busy.

I could barely keep up with everything, let alone spare a single second to call Cox’s office. It wasn’t that I was avoiding him. Mr. Calloway was very uncompromising, and it wouldn’t do for me to get in trouble at work.

Okay, that was a total lie. It was only normal busy, and I kept making up new things to do so I wouldn’t have to call.

I knew I had to. I couldn’t avoid him forever.

But maybe I could avoid him until the afternoon. Or Tuesday.

Tuesday sounded better. The aftermath of a drunken wedding in Vegas was a lot for a Monday.

But as soon as Nina came to my desk carrying a box tied with a big pink ribbon, I knew my weekend in Vegas had come to find me.

She set it on my desk. “For you.”

“Thanks,” I said weakly, staring at the box.

Without looking at the note, I knew it was from him. It had to be.

What would a man like Camden Cox send to the woman he’d accidentally married in Vegas over the weekend?

It had to be some kind of breakup gift. A way of apologizing for the mess we’d gotten ourselves into. Because what else could it be?

When I thought about it like that, it was nice of him.

But why did the idea of a breakup gift from Cox make my stomach feel so awful?

Now I was just being silly. It wasn’t like we were going to stay married. Sure, we’d had fun over the weekend, but that was Vegas. It wasn’t the real world. And anybody would have fun with that much alcohol. He was Camden Cox, childhood meanie and puller of pigtails.

Staring at the box wasn’t doing me any good, so I took a deep breath. The ribbon slid off easily and I removed the lid. Tissue paper crinkled as I unwrapped it.

My eyes widened when I realized what it was. A lacy black bra and panties set.

With a surprised squeak, I smashed down the tissue paper, trying to cover the lace.

I lifted my eyes to see if anyone had noticed and met Steve’s gaze from across the aisle. His mouth was open, his eyebrows lifted.

Yep, he’d seen it.

“It’s from my friend Nora,” I blurted out. “I don’t know why she sent it here instead of my apartment.”

Steve adjusted his glasses. “Uh-huh.”

He totally didn’t believe me.

God, why had Cox sent me underwear? That was a weird breakup gift. Was breakup the right word? What did you call it when you had to get yourself unmarried after mistakenly marrying someone you barely knew?

There probably wasn’t a word for it because that wasn’t really a thing. Most people wouldn’t get themselves into a situation like this.

Most people weren’t me.

I glanced around again to see if anyone was watching—Steve had gone back to whatever he’d been doing—and peeked beneath the tissue paper again.

There was a little envelope tucked inside. I took out the note and read it.

Hey Sugar,

These made me think of you. Just promise me one thing. No wearing them in the ring at an MMA fight. These are for my eyes only.

Your husband

Husband? Oh my god.

He was kidding, right? He had to be kidding.

From what I remembered of our wild night in Vegas, I had laughed a lot, leading me to believe Cox was funny. So this must be his