IT HAPPENED IN VEGAS.
I can't be held responsible. Things that happen there are supposed to stay there, right? Right? Yeeeah. Not so much.
Andie's just days away from tying the knot, but there's just ooooone little glitch. Apparently, she's already married. Or someone with her name is married to a guy out in Oregon of all places, and the courthouse won't issue her a marriage license until it's all cleared up. Tripping her way through cow pies and country songs to meet up with a man who gets around places on horseback is her very last idea of how to have a good time, but if she's going to get married, make partner at the firm, and have two point five kids before she's thirty-five, she needs to get to the bottom of this snafu and fix it quick ... before her fiance finds out and everything she's been working toward goes up in flames.
I can't be held responsible. Things that happen there are supposed to stay there, right? Right? Yeeeah. Not so much.
Andie's just days away from tying the knot, but there's just ooooone little glitch. Apparently, she's already married. Or someone with her name is married to a guy out in Oregon of all places, and the courthouse won't issue her a marriage license until it's all cleared up. Tripping her way through cow pies and country songs to meet up with a man who gets around places on horseback is her very last idea of how to have a good time, but if she's going to get married, make partner at the firm, and have two point five kids before she's thirty-five, she needs to get to the bottom of this snafu and fix it quick ... before her fiance finds out and everything she's been working toward goes up in flames.
EXCERPT:
I half stumbled, half ran over to fix things. Oh
my god, oh my god, what have I done! The former contents of my drink
were now dripping off the top of his hat and down his cheek and into his shirt.
He’d stood up and was staring down at himself in shock.
“Holy shit, I am so sorry. Oh my god,
what did I do?! Oh my god…” I grabbed a bunch of cocktail napkins
off the table, nearly spilling other people’s drinks in my haste, using them to
dab at his amazing, gorgeous, weather-lined face. He was even
better-looking up close, which seconds ago I would have said would be
impossible.
When he lifted his gaze to look at me, I nearly had a heart
attack. I dropped the napkins with a plop onto his cowboy boots. It
would have made Candice proud, the high register that I hit with my girly
squeal. “Eeep!” Those eyes! They glowed out
from under his hat a sky blue so bright they looked as if they were illuminated
from inside his head.
“I’d say the drink is on me, but that would be way too corny and
cliché,” he said, his voice almost lazy the way it came out. But I barely
heard what he was saying because his glowing blue eyes were piercing my soul or
something. I’d never seen anything like them in my life. I could
look at him all day long and never get tired of it.
“Huh?”
I cringed inwardly as soon as the syllable slid past my
lips. The oratory skills that served me so well in the courtroom had
abandoned me entirely. I doubted at this point whether I’d be able to
string a coherent sentence together. His beauty combined with his
slow-talking cowboy sexiness had completely robbed me of any
intelligence. The drinks probably weren’t helping.
“Never mind.” He took his hat from his head and shook it a
little off to the side, droplets of my former drink flying off to land on the
carpet. His hair was longish, the ends curling up at his neck, which
really surprised me. I’d been expecting a crew cut or a big bald spot
under that hat to spoil the effect, to make him seem more human and not so
supernaturally gorgeous … but no such luck. He wasthat beautiful,
managing to make every other man in the place look like dog meat. Every
single one of them instantly ceased to exist for me, just like the memories of
that guy I’d been dating for three years who’d broken up with me by text on my
way out here. What was his name again? Puke, I think?
I looked down and noticed a wet spot on the front of the
cowboy’s jeans and all down the front of his shirt, and suddenly felt the
desperate need to help. I’d caused this problem. I’d ruined his
night. And if the stacks of chips in front of him were any clue, he’d
been doing pretty well.
I grabbed the pile of cocktail napkins that the dealer had put
down at his place and dabbed the whole wad of them first on his shirt and then
on the front of his pants.
“I am so sorry. I have no idea what my
problem is. Well, that’s not true, I do know what my problem is.” I
snorted in disgust. “I’m wearing these ridiculous heels, which I knew
were a mistake the first time I saw them, but against my better judgment, I put
them on anyway.” I was busy pounding away on his crotch, trying to soak
up the alcohol, not really thinking about what I was doing, so wrapped up in my
nightmare of a life. “I knew this was a mistake, I knew Vegas was going
to be a problem. I don’t know why I let people talk me into things like
this all the time.”
He grabbed my wrist and halted my movements. I stopped in
mid stream-of-consciousness brain vomit and looked up at him.
“I think you’d better stop now.”
“What?” I was totally confused.
He looked down at his crotch, still holding onto my wrist.
I followed his gaze and nearly had another heart attack.
There was a distinct bulge going down the leg of his pants that hadn’t been
there before.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elle Casey is a full-time writer of New Adult
and Young Adult titles in several genres, including romance, urban fantasy,
sci-fi dystopian, and action-adventure. She's an American girl who's been
living in southern France with her husband and three children since 2010. She
loves chatting with her readers, so feel free to drop her a line.
Website: www.ElleCasey.com
Facebook: www.Facebook.com/ellecaseytheauthor
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