Page 11 of Accidentally Wed to My Enemy

“It must’ve been fake,” I said. “Like with Elvis in Vegas. They’ll still do your wedding if you don’t have the papers. It just isn’t legal. It—”

“How did thishappen?” Lacey flopped back on the bed. “I hate you, right? And you hate me double? Or have you loved me in secret this entire time?”

“Loved you?” I scoffed and my head spun, and I nearly keeled over. My legs turned traitor and I plopped down on the love seat. “I don’t think that’s it. Why can’t I remember?”

Lacey scrolled through her phone, biting her lip. In the harsh light of day, her blond hair looked white. Her green eyes were pale, like a fresh-made mint julep. I watched her long, slender fingers stab at her screen. I could see her appeal, at least on the surface — lithe and athletic, with smooth, sun-kissed skin. Luscious, full lips, ripe for the kissing. But under all that, she was still Lacey Hall. She’d still called me boring, generic, a douchebag. She’d snorted and oinked at me through our shared wall.

“Do you know who this is?” She held out her phone. I leaned over and took it and frowned at the picture, a triple selfie of me, Lacey, and…someone. A memory tugged at me like a word trapped on my tongue.

“I’ve seen her,” I said. “But I can’t place where.”

“I think she’s famous. Like on TV.” Lacey took her phone back and her pretty brow crinkled. “Wasn’t she at that second club, the one with the fish?”

I remembered that vaguely, with Lacey’s reminder, a club with a glass wall, a massive fish tank. Tetras darting behind it, and… a mermaid? I’d been gawking at her when I’d heard my name,Eric!

“I found her,” said Lacey. “She’s… oh, crap. Oh, crap.”

“What? Who is she?”

“She was on that show,Blind at the Altar. The one where they’re blindfolded and they marry a stranger. Don’t you remember? He was there too.”

I blinked. “Who, the stranger?”

“Well, not anymore. They were all over each other. Still going strong, or at least going horny.”

My guts did a slow roll. I was starting to remember. They’d been blabbering on, between sloppy kisses, about how much in love they were, how lucky, how blessed. How they’d peeled off their blindfolds and both almost bolted, but they’d signed a contract, so—

“She said she hated him,” said Lacey. Her voice caught and cracked. “Don’t you remember? She couldn’t stand him.”

“And he went on camera and called her a snore.”

“A snore, yeah, that’s right, but then… then, uh…” Lacey let her phone drop and scrubbed at her face. “You said we should do that. I thought you were joking.”

I scowled. “I saidwhat?”

“You said I wasn’t as mean as you thought. You said, what if we got married. If we had to, like, try.”

“No way I said that. No way in hell.” I shook my sore head, buthadI said it? I sort of remembered, not that, but something. Me down on one knee. Lacey blushing and giggling. More drinks arriving on a shell-crusted tray. Had I proposed to her? Had she said yes? I groaned, deep and wrenching, and buried my face in my hands. “What wasinthose drinks? Did you slip me a mickey?”

“Me? Why wouldIdo that? Did you slip me one?”

I swallowed, tasted acid. I’d never do that. Much as I despised Lacey, I doubted she would either. We’d got drunk, was all, and then we’d got married. Or gone through the motions, and we’d gone viral. A stupid night’s work, but we could survive it. We’d just have to play it off as a joke. Cast-party hijinks gone foolishly public.

“It’ll be fine,” I said. “We’re not really married.”

Lacey didn’t respond. She was tapping her phone screen.

“Lacey? I said—”

“We actually might be.” She didn’t elaborate, so I heaved myself off the love seat and perched beside her on the edge of the bed. She angled her phone so I could see it, and what I read on her screen made my heart do a swan dive.

How easy is it to get married in Hawaii? The state of Hawaii makes marriage a breeze, no waiting periods, no pesky blood tests. Just visit a licensing agent with proof you’re of age and single, and you’ll be ready to tie the knot in 15 minutes.

“That can’t be true.” I massaged my temples.

“I’ve got three different websites saying it is.”

“But we were drunk. Aren’t there laws against that?”

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