Page 14 of Married to Mischief

“I think I’m dizzy,” she mutters, leaning her head on my chest.

“I’ve got you, love. I’ve got you.”

I hold her through the next five songs until soft snores escape her lips. I should get her home or at least to the car. My plans for the day will have to wait.

I scoop her up into my arms and her head falls against my chest. I drop a couple of hundred pound notes on the table then head for the door.

“I can walk,” Serena mumbles.

“Okay,” I say, but don’t put her down.

“Did you drug that lady?” A man steps in front of me, stopping me with his folded arms and a scowl to match.

“Not this time.” I clamp my lips shut. Why are sarcasm and light deflection always my go-to’s?

A fist flies at my face and I dodge, which is a lot harder to do while carrying an unconscious woman.

I maneuver to the side, putting a table between us. “She drank too much. I’m taking her home.”

“More like to your bed,” the man snarls, grabbing the attention of everyone else in the pub.

This is just dandy.

“Liam Hawthorne?”

The blood in my veins turns cold.

I don’t turn, refusing to acknowledge the man addressing me. If he knows me by my real name, that means the situation is even worse. He wants something from me. What can I say? Everyone wants a piece of me. Literally.

Time to get out of here.

Except the idiot in front of me is still there and still pissed.

“She’s my wife,” I sigh. I slip my phone from my hand and show him the screensaver: a photo I doctored to appear like we were married two months ago. Serena never made me change it.

The man looks back and forth between the picture and us then nods and steps to the side.

And then I run.

“Liam!” the voice comes again, but I don’t stop.

I get Serena in the car and turn in time to see a furious Howie Garfield, AKA the most annoying treasure hunter on the planet, bursting out of the pub doors.

Blast.What terrible timing to run into someone from my past. I jump in the car and floor it. Howie isn’t alone. I watch in the rearview mirror as a black SUV picks him up and turns down the street after me.

At least I’ve got speed on my side. I press on the gas, revving the engine, and flying over the country roads like a race car. But the SUV somehow keeps with me, not close enough to shoot but too close for comfort. I’ve got to switch it up.

I slow down to take a left turn, then a right, purposely keeping to back roads that will lead me to the motorway. Serena’s head smacks the door as I take another left.

“Liam,” she grumbles. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing. Just rest, love.”

“Are we being chased?”

“A little bit.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she murmurs. Her eyes close again, and I thank the heavens she’s out for this next part. I send the car airborne. I put my hand on her head to stabilize it as we crash to the ground, metal scraping in what’s sure to be a very expensive fix.

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