“One—this is not a marriage. Two—you have no idea how complicated this is.”
“It’s only as complicated as you want to make it,” I said. “I wish you could have seen your face when I said we were married. That is a picture someone needed to take. You were so…”
Well, then she had been shocked. Now she was pissed.
Her expression twisted well beyond sassy and threatened to rip off my boys once more. I tucked my hands firmly in my lap.
“You know, you didn’t say goodbye when you left the hotel,” I said. “I figured you knew then. That you’d regretted it and bolted.”
“Didn’t then. Do now.”
I shrugged. “But you hadn’t contacted me about an annulment, so I thought you had a change of heart and wanted to give it a go.”
“Give it a go?”
“Yeah. What do you say?”
“To what?”
“Staying married.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Elle stalked the living room, hands in her hair. “I’ve known you for three days, Lachlan. I’ve had leftover Chinese in my fridge for longer than that!”
I loved Chinese. “And now that we’re married, I’ll eat the leftovers before you have to throw them out. Everyone wins.”
Elle rubbed her temples. “This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening. What the hell would possess us to get married?”
“A pretty substantial drinking binge.” I winked. “I think it was your first one. You don’t handle your alcohol very well.”
“You think?” Elle’s voice shrilled. “I guess I’ll have to practice when we celebrate our divorce.”
“It was innocent, Elle. We were just having some fun.” Probably too much. “We met up at the bar after we talked at the combine. You had taken a photo of me at the—”
“Forty-yard dash.”
That she remembered. “We’d flirted there, and then we met at the bar. You were trying to decide on what drink to order to fix a bad mood. I suggested them all.”
“Remind me never to take your advice again.”
“You talked a lot about your father.”
That triggered it. Elle’s eyes widened. She sunk onto the couch, and I dove away from her wayward elbow as she collapsed into the cushions.
“I was mad because Daddy called me…” She pointed at me. “And I told you about him after I almost dumped my phone in the margarita pitcher.”
“You said it’d be funny if we made him mad by getting—”
“Married.” Elle gasped and leapt off the couch. “Oh my gosh, my father’s gonna kill me.”
“I didn’t totally understand the joke at the time…” I said. “But you were a beautiful girl who wanted me, so I wasn’t gonna kill our buzz.”
“I sent the marriage certificate home so he’d see it.” She paced again. “Jesus, he’s going to flip out.”
“Why?”
“Because when you run away from home at sixteen and deliberately get married just to piss him off, it doesn’t exactly reinforce his family values.”
I stared at her. “Jesus. You ran away? Why?”
Elle made a face. “Again, probably something my real husband should know!”
“Well, I am your real husband, and I’d like to know.” I crossed my arms behind my head and kicked my heels onto her coffee table. “I’m all ears…or should I get popcorn first?”
“More like the whiskey.”
I grinned. “Can’t have that. Who knows what sort of mistakes we’ll make then.”
“Yeah. Maybe we’ll get divorced.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m staying sober. I want my marriage to last a little longer.”
“Better savor the hours, Lachlan. That’s all you’re getting.”
“All the more reason to learn what I can now.” I grinned. “Unless you’d rather skip right to the newlywed sex?”
“Sex is preferable to talking about my family,” she said. “Then again, so is a rusty nail through my foot or swimming in linebacker puke.”
“Can’t be that bad.”
Elle snorted. “Mine is pretty damn bad, but I guess every family is dysfunctional.”
“That’s not true. Mine’s great.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
I fished around for my phone, pulling out a photo of the rug-rat currently chasing all the girls on the kindergarten playground. “Hand to God. I love my family. You got sisters? This is Sebastian.”
I showed her the picture of the grinning kid, suited up in my college jersey and pads. She nodded.