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the bar and stares at me before bursting into laughter. “I can’t even accuse you of following me because I found you here,” she says. She has a beautiful laugh. One I would not mind hearing over and over again.

“I don’t mind being stalked,” I say.

She closes the distance between us and sits on the barstool next to mine. “Is this taken?”

“It is now,” I say.

The bartender introduces himself as Mike and proceeds to ask Marian what she wants to drink.

“I don’t know,” Marian says. “This is my first time in Vegas. Make me a cocktail that screams Vegas.”

Mike grins. “A Vegas special coming up, Ma’am.” He turns away to make Marian’s drink.

“Is it your first time in Vegas too?” Marian says to me as she wriggles on the barstool to get comfortable.

I wish I were that stool, and she’s wriggling her curvy ass over me. Heat whips through me. “No, I’m afraid it’s not.”

She contemplates me. “Why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?”

“Every time I’ve come to Vegas, it’s for someone else’s bachelor party or wedding,” I explain.

She gives me a puzzled look.

“Always the groomsman, never the groom,” I say.

She laughs. “I didn’t know that applied to men as well.”

Mike places a drink layered with bright colors on the counter in front of Marian.

“That looks yummy,” she says.

Mike grins from ear-to-ear as if he has just presented her with a gold nugget. I don’t blame him. Marian oozes friendliness and energy.

She pulls her drink closer and brings it to her mouth. The bartender and I watch, entranced, as she closes her eyes and takes a long sip. We wait with bated breath for her judgment.

When she opens her eyes, they’re gleaming, and a smile plays at the corner of her mouth. She looks at the bartender. “Mike, there is no doubt this is the best cocktail I’ve ever had.”

Mike looks like he’s ready to fly from the compliment.

“So, tell me, Declan. What is it that you do in Santa Monica?” she asks.

“I sell pizza,” I say.

“I can’t tell when you’re serious or when you’re teasing,” Marian says.

“I’m dead serious,” I tell her.

“OK,” she says. “I believe you.”

“And what do you do yourself?” I say. Her emerald green eyes are like an open window. Wide and inviting.

“Take a guess,” she says and sips her drink. She wraps her full lips around the straw and pulls. I imagine her wrapping her lips around my cock while looking up at me with her gorgeous eyes.

I quickly take a swig of my beer to cool me down. “I think you are in PR or communications.”

“I’m impressed,” she says. “You are pretty close. I’m a wedding planner. And before you ask me, no, I’m not married.”

I pick up on the defensive note in her voice.

The bartender comes over to our end of the counter. “Can I get you another round?”

“Sure, why not?” Marian says. “Declan will have another beer as well.”

“I believe you,” I say when Mike turns away.

“What do you believe?” Marian.

“That you are a wedding planner.”

She laughs. Marian is easy to speak to and time flies as we drink and chat, our voices getting louder by the minute.

Several hours later, Marian is clearly tipsy, and so am I. Letting loose is the main reason why people come to Vegas. Still, I try to pace myself. I want to make sure that I can take care of her. She brings out protective feelings in me that I’ve never felt with another woman.

“Remember what you said about always a groomsman and never a groom?” Marian asks, her voice slurring.

I nod.

“That’s me,” she says.

“But there is no rush to get married,” I tell her.

“But I do want to get married,” Marian says fiercely. “The only trouble is, I don’t think I’ll ever find the right person. There are two types of people in this world.” She holds up two fingers in the air.

“Go on.” My tongue feels heavy. I’m drunker than I thought I was.

“People who find love and people who don’t.”

“That makes perfect sense,” I say. Even I can hear that my voice is slurring. “I think I’m in the second group,” I tell her.

Her eyes widen, and then her face splits into a grin. “Me too. We’re kindred spirits.”

“It’s not a bad group,” I say, but my voice carries a tinge of sadness, and she picks on it immediately.

“You’re just saying that. You don’t mean it. Nobody wants to be in that group. I don’t. It’s just that I don’t have a choice,” Marian says.

She’s right. I miss my brother Ace and best friend Park. It had been the three of us for the longest time, but now they are both married with families of their own. As Marian says, there are people who found love and people who didn’t. I’m firmly in the second group.

She bangs the bar, jolting me back to the present. “I don’t like being in that group, and I know you don’t either. Why don’t we do something about it?” she says, her emerald green eyes gleaming. She looks at me expectantly, but I have no idea what she’s talking about. She rolls her eyes. “We are in Vegas, the easiest place in the world to get married.”

I’m drunk, but a part of me realizes that her plan is a bit too dramatic.

“Mike, give us another round, please. We’re celebrating something,” Marian says to the bartender.

Laughter bubbles up in my throat. I can’t wait to tell Park and Ace about this. The day I almost got married to a stranger in Vegas.

Chapter 3

Marian

A blinding light strikes my eyes, and I raise my hand to shield them. As I slowly awaken, I become aware of the pain in my throat. It feels like someone was in there all night, with a hard brush scrubbing the sides of my throat.

I stiffen as something growls next to me. I open one eye and then the other and see the back of a man in my bed.

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