Page 55 of Chance of Romance
Chapter Thirteen
Sabrina woke naked, alone in a strange bed. Which hotel, LA or San Diego? She rolled to her side, away from the bright sunlight stabbing her eyes through the blinds, and shoved her hair out of her face, getting her ring tangled in it.Ouch.She carefully pulled her fingers out of the tangle in her hair. Wait a minute. She didn’t wear a ring.
She stared at her left hand, where a gold band was sitting on her ring finger. A wedding band. Her mind whirled. She and Logan had been drinking champagne at Claire’s house and plotting a revenge wedding. Did they have a San Francisco quickie wedding? Did they exist? She rolled to her back and hollered, “Logan!”
A few moments later, he stood in the doorway in a blue T-shirt and worn jeans, bare feet, looking as relaxed as could be. “You bellowed?”
She held up her hand with the ring on it.
He held up his hand with the ring on it.
“Did I miss it?” she asked, slowly sitting up. She hadn’t been that drunk that she’d forget her own wedding.
He crossed to her and sat on the side of the bed. “It’s not real, just an FU like we agreed. Fake wedding, awesome honeymoon.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
She stared at her wedding band, still not getting it. “When did you get these rings?” Shit. Had he already had the rings for a secret plan to marry Olivia? Ugh. What had she done? She must be Logan’s rebound. The worst. She wanted to shove him out of bed and curl into a ball.
He got in bed with her, sliding under the covers and sitting up against the white padded headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him. “Got them this morning,” he replied cheerfully. “It’s noon, sleepyhead. Guess I wore you out.”
She blushed, which was ridiculous after all they’d done. She’d climbed on top of him in the middle of the night, waking him for an intense round three. In the dark, the passion had unleashed even wilder than before. His dirty talk had spurred her on, lowering her inhibitions. She had been well fucked and collapsed boneless in the sleep of the dead.
Rebound.
He took her ring hand and held it up, looking at the ring in the sunlight.
She pulled her hand from his grip and sat with her back against the headboard and the covers up to her chin. “Do you regret sleeping with me?”
“Much too late for hiding.” He yanked the covers down and traced a finger over the swell of her breast. “You have my mark on you.” She glanced down at a small red spot, from suction or his teeth, she didn’t know. He’d touched her in every way he could, everywhere, and she’d loved every minute of it.
She swallowed hard. “You didn’t answer the question.”
He held her jaw, tipping her face up for his kiss. “No regrets.”
She nearly collapsed with relief. She didn’t dare ask if he was over Olivia. It was enough for now. Obviously he was willing to help restore her professional reputation with the fake marriage. She couldn’t ask for more.
“Good,” she said.
He pushed her tangled hair behind her ear. “You want to let your ex know we got married?”
Strangely, Kevin was the furthest thing from her mind. She was over it—the jilted-bride thing, the clueless wedding invitation, the enthusiasticmy fiancée is awesomefollow-up email. None of it mattered.
She looked into Logan’s warm brown eyes, her heart in her throat. She couldn’t possibly be his rebound when he looked at her like that, so warm, so tender. She knew this man, and he was one of the good ones. She could trust him. Shedidtrust him.
“All that matters is you and me,” she said.
“So damn sweet,” he growled, his lips meeting hers in a swift hard kiss.
She let out a happy sigh, stroking his beard like she’d wanted to for so long.
He grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, his gaze intent on hers. “Let’s text our friends. You tell Claire to put the word out to the press. Presto, Sabrina’s rep is restored. Ready?”
She nodded. He seemed so enthusiastic about it, and he had taken the time to get them rings. It could only help, right?
He retrieved her purse from where she’d left it by her suitcase and handed it to her. She pulled out her phone and texted Claire while he texted his friends. Then she texted a group text to all of her friends.YOU GUYS! LOGAN AND I GOT MARRIED!
A flurry of texts chimed in, congratulating them. A few jabs for not inviting them to the wedding with a promised party for later.
“You done?” he asked. “Everyone knows we’re fake married now?”
