Page 26 of One Time in Paris
Bollocks.That hurt. His hip smashed against the floor, pain radiating up his side—but that was the leastof his concerns.
Not now. Not fucking now.
He and Mason weren’t kids anymore, wrestling in their parents’ sitting room over the last slice of cake. This was aboutso much worsethan losing dessert.
Aiden was still too far to reach the damned envelope as Mason tugged the contents free.
“Why, it’s a marriage license,” Mason crowed, undeterred as he tried to read with Aiden clawing for the paper. “Between Aiden Preston Camden and Isla Grace Sco?—”
Both men froze.
Aiden saw Mason’s mouth open—sawthe exact moment realization dawned.
“What the actual fuck?”
Aiden groaned.
11
AIDEN
Aiden’s earsbuzzed so loudly that he could hardly process Mason’s words.
“Isla? You married Isla? In bloody Vegas?”
Collecting a deep breath, Aiden sat, panting.
Married.He’d fucking married Isla?What thehellhad happened that night?
How could this be real?
“Isla?” Mason repeated, unable to comprehend the news.
“Please stop speaking.” Aiden held out a hand for the marriage license, desperate to see it for himself. For different reasons now.
I can’t believe this is happening.
Mason handed the paper over and peeled himself from the ground, his face a shade of crimson. Wordlessly, he rose and crossed toward the decanter and poured himself a glass of scotch, then swallowed some down.
Aiden’s eyes narrowed on the marriage license.
Who in their right mind would let two people as clearly inebriated as Isla and I must have been get fucking married?
No way in hell Isla remembered this.
That night kept getting worse and worse.
Christ, does she even know yet?
Aiden fought the urge to crumple the paper in his fist, as though that would somehow undo any of this. Would a marriage like this even hold up legally? He wasn’t a US citizen.
He’d have to get a solicitor involved, though. Expand his trust—and the knowledge of what had happened—to yet another person.
He lifted a sharp gaze at Mason and stood, legs unsteady, pain flaring from the bruise on his hip. “You cannot breathea wordof this. To anyone. Not a single soul, Mason. Especially not Liddy or Callum.”
“As in Liddy,who works with me?Callum, who you see nearly every day? They don’t know? Bloody hell, Aiden, what in the world were you thinking?” Mason shook his head. “AndIsla.I can’t believe you’re sleeping with Isla. She’s like a sister to us.”
“I’m not sleeping with Isla. This is all just an enormous mistake,” Aiden snapped. Tempted as he was to go over and join Mason in grabbing a drink, he held off, pacing instead.
