Hitched: A Stepbrother Honeymoon Romance (2 page)

Oh, I’m not shy. I just don’t like sleazeballs. I take another sip of champagne so I don’t say that out loud.

“I keep telling her that she’ll never get a boyfriend if she doesn’t put herself out there. I mean, here she is, in a room
full
of eligible bachelors, and she hasn’t struck up a conversation with one of them.”

Okay, I’m about to go nuclear. This is going to be bad. I down the rest of my champagne in one gulp, turn to Nina, and open my mouth.

“Enjoying the party, ladies?”

The words disappear in my mouth as Travis comes up behind me. Great, just what I need. Another step-relative to humiliate me in public.

Nina looks at Travis with her usual mix of condescension and jealousy. “Why wouldn’t we be? I saw Laney standing alone, so I thought I’d help her make some connections.”

“Connections, huh?” Travis’ blue eyes blaze with mischief. “Well, what if I told you that there’s a gorgeous, super-rich, famous guy here who’s
very
interested in getting to know Laney?”

Nina’s eyes light up. “That’s perfect! Laney was just telling me how many cute guys there were here. He’s not too old, is he? Under 55?”

Travis does some math in his head, then nods. “I think he’s under 55, yeah.”

“Then what are we standing around talking for? Go meet your knight in shining armor!”

Nina backs off, taking Roger with her, while Travis wraps a thick, possessive arm around the small of my back and takes me to the other side of the room.

“Thanks for bailing me out. If I had to sit there and listen to Nina talk about how I need a boyfriend for one more second…it was going to be bad. There’s no gorgeous guy, right? That was just an excuse to get me away from Nina?”

I squeak as Travis grabs my sides and pulls me into his strong, athletic body. “Oh, there’s a gorgeous guy, alright. And like I said, he’s
very
interested in you.”

“Travis!” I smack him in the chest. “We’re in public!”

Travis smirks. “Oh, would you prefer to do this in private?”

“Let me go, you’re going to make a scene.” Travis laughs and lets go of me, grabbing a glass of champagne from the table behind us. And that's why I try to avoid him whenever possible. He loves to make my face flush red.

“Not as big of a scene as you were about to make over there. You were about to go off on Nina.”

“I still might.”

“Just ignore her, Laney. Trust me, she hates that way more than she hates being the center of attention.”

I hate to admit it, but Travis is right. I might not want to kiss up to this crowd, but making a scene here probably isn’t a very smart idea.

“You’re right. She’d love it if I got on her level. Thanks for coming in and saving my butt.”

“Anytime.” Travis grins at me and takes a sip of his champagne, his eyes lingering on mine. Then, they look past me. Behind me. I follow his gaze, turning around to face the window, which looks out over the Vegas strip. Cowboys and pyramids. Neon lights and clashing colors. An ocean of recklessness. If I can’t let off steam up here, maybe I can do it down there.

“It’s weird. I always come to Vegas for these stupid parties, but I’ve never actually seen Vegas. What’s it like?”

“It’s fucking insane, in every sense of the word. Want to go check it out?”

Ditch the party? Leave my parents? I want to, but I’m worried Nina will notice and get mad.

“Come on, it’ll be fun. There’s a casino down the street that gives me free drinks.”

Alright. Fine. Even if he can be kind of a douche sometimes, drinks and gambling with Travis sounds a hell of a lot better than Nina parading me around to all her gross friends.

“Screw it. Let’s go.”

Travis grins, grabs my hand, and leads me out of the room. Paranoid, I look back over my shoulder to see if Nina notices me leave, but she doesn’t. And just like that, Travis and I are gone, heading out towards the Vegas strip for a night of blowing off steam.

I’m still kind of nervous about ditching our parents, but by the time we’re down on the strip, I put it out of my mind.

After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

Chapter 3: Laney

Think, Laney, think. What’s the last thing I remember from last night?

Let’s see…I was at that stupid cocktail party, and I left with Travis so I could get away from Nina. That was where it started, all that champagne I was guzzling. Then, we hit this huge casino, and they started loading us up with free drinks because they could smell the money floating off Travis.

So we were drinking, I was venting about Nina, and then…uh…that’s where it starts to get fuzzy. But apparently, Travis and I took the whole “stepsibling bonding” thing a little too far.

Maybe I’ll remember better if I get out of bed and start walking around. Actually, now that I think about it, Travis probably blacked out too: he was knocking back drinks like a sailor as soon as we got to the casino. If I can somehow get out of bed without waking him up, he probably won’t remember last night, and I can pretend this never happened. It’s the perfect plan.

There’s only one problem: Travis’ massive, muscular arm has a death grip on my stomach, and one of my hands is trapped under his other arm. It’s not exactly going to be easy to get him to let me go.

Well, slow and steady wins the race, right? He might still be passed out drunk, so maybe if I slowly move him off me, he won’t notice, and I can slip out of the room.

My free hand reaches down to his fingers, which are wrapped around my side and holding on tight. Slowly but surely, I loosen them one at a time, trying to ignore the…disturbing feeling of my stepbrother’s perfect abs and chest heaving against my bare back with every breath he takes. As I pull his thumb out from under me, Travis twitches against my back, and I freeze in my tracks until I’m positive he hasn’t woken up. Then, I lift his heavy, heavy arm off my body and lay it on its side.

Okay, that was the hard part. Now all I need to do is get my hand out from under Travis’ bicep, and I’m home free.

It’s ironic. There are hundreds and thousands of girls out there who fantasize about waking up in Travis Carter’s arms, and all I’m trying to do is get out of them.

I go slow and steady again, pulling my hand out from under my stepbrother’s massive, tree-trunk bicep. It feels a little bit like my hand is caught on something, but once I get my wrist free, the rest of the hand slides out much easier. With one last long, smooth yank, I pull my hand free and get ready to sneak out of the room as silently as I can.

Until I see what’s on my hand.

It’s a gold ring. With a big, fat diamond on it.

At the sight of the ring, I lose my composure and scream just a little too loud. I clamp my hand over my mouth and try not to move, but it’s too late: Travis is stirring awake. In a few seconds, he’s going to open his eyes, and then he's going to figure out what happened.

I didn’t just sleep with Travis last night. I married him.

Chapter 4: Laney

Ten Hours Earlier

“She’s just so…” I can’t think of a word awful enough to finish my sentence, so I finish my drink instead. Then, when the waitress comes by our table, I order another round of drinks. They’re free, thanks to Travis, and they’re strong as hell. Just what I need to put that terrible party behind me.

“She was trying to get me to quit my job and work at a tabloid! She practically called my boss and gave her notice!”

“If you think that’s bad, try actually being related to her. Trust me, it gets so much fucking worse.”

“Okay, but you don’t get to complain. You’re…” I gesture towards Travis’ body, and Travis smirks, “…you. You’re more famous than her. You have more money than her. If she tries to give you crap, you can just……go be on TV or something. Meanwhile, I have to live with her because my stupid content assistant internship barely pays me, which means I have to deal with her talking down to me and leaving brochures for fingernail implants on my bed.”

Travis laughs. “Does she actually do that?”

I nod. “She thinks my perfectly normal fingernails are holding me back.”

Our waitress comes back with a tray covered in cocktails, margaritas, and fancy shots. “I got you a little bit of everything.” She winks at Travis as she leaves, and I roll my eyes.

Travis looks at me and grins. “Jealous?”

“Ew. No. Go pull her panties down and bend her over a craps table for all I care.”

Travis laughs a little and raises his eyebrows. “That’s pretty specific, Laney. You haven’t been thinking about that, have you?”

“In your dreams.” I feel my face start to turn a little pink, so I grab the nearest margarita like it’s a life preserver and take a drink. Just like the other drinks, it's sweet and strong, leaving a powerful burn in the back of my throat with every sip.

Travis breaks the silence. “Your fingernails are fine, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know. It just pisses me off that I’m economically dependent on someone who thinks they’re not.”

“You could always live with me.”

A shudder runs down my spine. Living with Travis was bad enough when we were younger, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like now. Him bringing home supermodels while I’m stuck on the couch…

I shake my head. “Thanks, but I want to pay my own way out. All I need to do is to get my boss to hire me full time.”

Travis shrugs. “Does she know you have two celebrities in the family?”

“Yeah, and that’s why I think she’ll hire me if I give her a reason. But I don’t want some random desk job; I want to be a reporter. And that means I need to bring her a story. Something juicy.”

“Juicy, huh?”

“Yeah. Something big.”

Travis smirks, pulling a brochure out from one of the martini glasses on our table. When I see what’s written on it, my eyes get huge.

Win a trip to Royal Shores.

The
Royal Shores. The most exclusive resort hotel in Hawaii. So exclusive, they run background checks on their guests to make sure paparazzi don’t sneak in. To get in, you either have to be seriously rich or seriously famous……or, apparently, win this contest. They do background checks on their guests, so journalists never get in, but if the rumors are true, it’s where A-list celebrities go to hook up with each other away from the paparazzi.

Travis grins as he takes in the look of shock on my face.

“Give me that!” I snatch the brochure out of his hand and open it up. I open it, and my heart sinks.

Of course. I should have known. For normal, non-famous people, it’s a honeymoon resort, so the contest only applies to couples who get married at the wedding chapel at the other end of the casino. That would explain why most of the tables around us are occupied by drunk, horny couples. There was a big line outside the chapel when we walked in. They're probably just here waiting their turn.

I shake my head and put the brochure back on the tray of drinks. “I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”

“Why?” Travis picks the brochure off the table and reads it.

“It’s only for people who get married here.”

“Yeah, but they’re giving away ten trips. Those are pretty fucking good odds.”

I look around and do the math. Twenty couples here, twenty couples in line…holy crap, that’s a 25% chance to get enough celebrity dirt to make headlines for the rest of the year. It’s too bad I don’t have anyone to marry.

I look up at Travis, who’s looking back at me and trying not to laugh.

“Travis! Ew!”

Travis raises his eyebrows and adopts a look of mock innocence. “What? I didn’t say anything.”

I sip my drink, hoping that Travis doesn’t see me blushing.

But of course he does.

“Ohhhh, I see what’s going on. You thought I was going to ask if you wanted to marry
me
, didn’t you?”

I bite my lip and try to come up with a response. “I mean, of course it crossed my mind that we could technically get married and enter the contest. That doesn’t mean I thought of it as a serious option. I mean, gross…” For some reason, my voice is weak and I’m stammering, like I do when I’m caught in a lie. Can’t we change the subject to something else?

Travis shrugs. “Hey, I’m just saying, you were just telling me that it’d solve your Nina problem. I’d do a lot for my stepsister, even if it meant making you my blushing bride.”

I let out a gasp and attempt to cover it by bringing my drink quickly up to my lips. Well, I’m already blushing…

Okay, we
need
to change the subject.

“Well, uh, thanks for the offer, but I think I’m going to try and find a scoop the old fashioned way.”

I look down at the drink tray.

“So…why do you get free drinks here?”

Travis’ bright blue eyes make long, intense contact with mine, like he’s trying to read my mind.