Jason choked on his champagne.

  “Milo?” Colton handed me a glass of champagne. “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

  “Sure.” I grinned, knowing full well he was going to want answers. Great! Just more lies to cover up more lies. Fantastic.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  COLTON

  Married. Married! Married? Right, however I said it, however I looked at it—all I saw was freaking red. The color of rage, and if I was being completely honest with myself? Pain with a hefty dose of regret. Damn it.

  I downed the rest of my champagne and set the glass on the table just as a decorator came by and set down a large contraption that I’m sure they patterned after a medieval torture device.

  “What is that?” I pointed.

  “Holds the cake.” The guy shrugged and walked off, just as Milo came up and eyed the same thing.

  “Is this an S&M wedding or what?”

  Yeah. My thoughts totally went there.

  Milo with a whip.

  Dressed in head-to-toe leather giving me bedroom eyes. My groin tightened as a vision of her waving the whip around floated around my head. Damn, was it wrong to love the violence as much as I did?

  I mean, come on, the woman was walking violence, she practically ran into that one!

  Coughing, you know, to hide my embarrassment and make sure her eyes weren’t anywhere but my face—lest I embarrass myself and have to jump in the subzero-temperature pool—I got her attention.

  “So what’s up?”

  “Married?” I squeaked. “You’re shitting me, right?”

  Obviously I missed my calling as a therapist or a motivational speaker.

  “I guess so.” Milo’s cheeks burned red. “I mean, I guess . . . yes?”

  “You guess so?” I snapped, my temper taking over. “You guess so? You freaking guess so?” I stomped over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. “You don’t guess about marriage, Milo, it’s for life! What the hell is wrong with you? You’re still as immature as ever. Shit.”

  “What?” Her shrill voice made me want to duck and cover.

  Whoops. I was about to get punched again—this time purposefully.

  “I’m not immature.” She tried jerking away from me, but I wouldn’t let her. Pissed as hell, I held her firm.

  “Yes. You are. You don’t just marry an asshole because he asks you!”

  “He’s not an asshole!”

  “You were naked!”

  “What?” Jason roared, coming up from behind us. “Who was naked?”

  “Should I tell him or will you?” I sneered.

  “Everything okay?” Max jogged over, hands in the air as if he was innocent, the bastard, the perverted bastard!

  “Well?” Jason crossed his arms.

  “She had her shirt off . . .” I nodded. “For him!”

  “You looked too!” Max pointed.

  Jason’s eyes widened and then narrowed in on me.

  “No.” I clenched Milo harder against me. “No, it’s not like that.”

  “It is,” Max said helpfully. “Totally like that. I was innocent in the whole thing. Honest, I don’t even know what he’s talking about.”

  I was going to strangle that guy with my bare hands.

  “You saw my sister naked!” Jason shouted.

  Everyone poured out of the house, including Jayne. Oh, good, witnesses. At least everyone would know how I was murdered. See, and this was why I never made a move! It wasn’t about just losing her friendship—but also about losing his.

  “No.” I swallowed. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  “He stared at my boobs,” Milo said triumphantly.

  Jason lunged for me. I released Milo a bit abruptly, and she went sailing into the cake stand metal thing.

  Lots of crunching and cursing followed.

  Jason froze.

  I closed my eyes.

  And Jayne started crying—wailing was more like it.

  “My cake stand!” she shouted into the sky like a howling werewolf, her feet stomping all over the grass, killing any seeds that hoped to sprout into beautiful greenery. “You ruined everything!”

  “Thank God,” Jason said under his breath.

  “Arrest her!” Jayne pointed at Milo. “Arrest her now!”

  “For shit’s sake, she’s injured!” I went over to grab Milo; instead she pushed as I pulled, making me lose my balance and fall backward—directly into the pool.

  When I resurfaced, I saw Jason pull out handcuffs.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I shouted as I tried to get out of the pool.

  “Destruction of private property!” Jayne sniffed. “And Jason’s a good cop, a fair cop, so he’s arresting her.”

  Max, the bastard fiancé, covered his mouth with his hands.

  And Mrs. Caro, having just arrived with the champagne bottle, started sipping directly from it.

  Now she had the right idea.

  “Son.” Mr. Caro stepped forward. “Maybe this is—”

  “No.” Jason nodded. “Jayne’s right, fair is fair, I’ll just take her into town. I may be gone for a few hours, but—”

  That rat bastard! He was going to get out of all the wedding decorating!

  Not my proudest moment, but once I was on my feet I charged at full speed toward one of the wedding decorators, knocking the candles out of her hands. They hit the ground with a thud.

  “Uh-oh.” I said dryly, holding out my hands. “Arrest me too, Jason, looks like I destroyed more property.”

  Max walked over to me and whispered under his breath, “Kind of defeats the purpose when you jump on the bomb after it’s gone off, but carry on.” He stepped back.

  “Fine.” Jason grabbed me with his right hand and Milo with his left.

  “Max, do something!” Milo shouted.

  “Right.” He nodded and then reached for the champagne bottle. “May I?”

  Wordlessly Mrs. Caro handed it to him and he took a big swig.

  “That’s not doing something!”

  “It’s all I’ve got. I’ll bail you out in a bit, Milo, just try not to hurt them—after all, they’re stuck in the car with you, not the other way around.”

  Jason seemed to think about this for a moment, if his wincing was any indication. Yeah, that’s right, he was probably recalling all the violence done to him in the past twenty-four hours.

  “Second thoughts?” I asked.

  “Get in the damn car, both of you.”

  I went to the front.

  “Oh, no, hell, no.” He opened the back. “You were arrested, friend, you get to ride in back. The guys at the station are going to give you hell for this.”

  “Let them.” I smiled from the backseat as Milo scowled. “We leave prison and go to jail. I choose jail.”

  The car fell silent.

  “Hey, can we stop at Starbucks?” Milo asked as we pulled out of the driveway.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  MILO

  “When I said be the doughnut . . .” Max leaned across the bars of the county jail. “I didn’t mean to literally be a doughnut and get your ass arrested by some doughnut-eating copper.”

  “Hilarious.”

  He looked behind him and smirked. “Hey, they were hungry.”

  On the officer’s desk was an entire box of doughnuts. Max thought it would help lower the tension while he tried to work his magic and bail me out of jail. Then again, it wasn’t like we hadn’t been treated nicely.

  And it wasn’t the first time I’d been in jail with Colton.

  All in all we’d been in jail at least three times together; our own parents called the cops on us once. Embarrassing to say the least. I knew Jason wouldn’t have put us behind bars if there had actually been criminals in the small prison, but it was just us, which meant he either was trying to make a point or needed our undivided attention away from the family.

  He was in the corner smiling—happy as a clam, that one.

  Max?
??s cell phone rang. “Be right back.”

  “Max, don’t leave me!”

  “Hey, I have a wedding to save. You come second.” He blew me a kiss and walked off.

  “Real winner you have there.” Colton snorted. “Seriously, I think sainthood’s in his future.”

  “Cold?” I tilted my head as Colton let out another shiver. He was still wet from his swim in the pool. He’d been given a blanket, but I could tell he was still suffering from the chills.

  “Nope. Hot. Sweating. Sweltering. On fire.” He glared.

  “Fine, drop your pants and prove it.”

  “That proves nothing!” he roared, turning bright red.

  “It proves a little bit of something.” I winked. “Wouldn’t you say?”

  “I hate you so much right now.”

  “Funny.” I took a seat next to him. “You said that last time we landed in jail.”

  “Again.” He scowled. “Your fault.”

  “Please!” I pushed against him. “That was not my fault and you know it!”

  “You set the church on fire.”

  I picked my fingernails and looked down. “In my defense, you pushed me into the candles.”

  “Because you taunted me!” His voice rose. “You kept saying, ‘Colton, jump! Colton, jump!’ It was the frigging balcony!”

  “Ten feet.” I fought to keep my voice even. “I told you to jump ten feet.”

  “It was more than ten.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Was.” He held up his hand. “Can we not argue?”

  “Why? You gonna shut me up by kissing me again?”

  He froze and then stared at my lips like a man starved. “That depends, are you going to kiss me back like you have been? Every. Damn. Time.”

  If he thought I was kissing him back that second time then he was in for a rude awakening.

  “Are you blaming me for kissing you back?”

  “I’m just saying it takes two.” He shrugged. “That’s all.”

  “Right, that’s all you’re saying.”

  “Damn it!” He grabbed me by the shoulders. “Do you have to have the last word all the time?”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Well?”

  “I was trying not to have the last word.”

  He released me and ran his hands through his hair. “Damn it to hell, you irritate me.”

  I flinched and slid away from him.

  “Milo,” he growled. “Not like that, it’s not—”

  “You’re free!” Max appeared in front of the cell, dangling handcuffs in front of his face. “Oh, and I’m keeping these for later.”

  He winked.

  I made a face. “Gross.”

  “Gross?” Max and Colton said in unison.

  “Er, metal. I don’t like metal during—” Yeah, I couldn’t finish that sentence.

  “Sex.” Max nodded. “Sorry, babe, I know I should remember you don’t like to be handcuffed to the bed, it’s just I always seem to forget, you know? Maybe it’s because most of my fantasies involve—oh, look, there’s Jason, be right back!”

  I stole a glance at Colton. He was gripping the edge of the bench so hard I thought he was going to go all Hercules on me and break it off.

  “You okay?”

  “Please don’t talk,” he said in a hoarse voice.

  “Look, he’s kidding, Max and I haven’t . . .” I shook my head. “We haven’t.”

  “You haven’t?” His eye twitched.

  “Done that.”

  “Handcuffs.”

  “Sex.”

  “I bet he’s terrible at it. I bet he cries afterwards and sucks his thumb,” Colton said, laughing, and then he swore. “Said that out loud, didn’t I?”

  “Yup.”

  “Shit.”

  “You okay?” I touched his shoulder.

  “No.” He bit down on his lip. “I’m either going to kill your fiancé by the end of the day or just drown myself in the pool. At this point it’s a toss-up.”

  “If I punched you, would you feel better?”

  “No.” He swallowed. “But you could kiss me again.”

  My head snapped up.

  “Sorry, guys!” Max walked back up to the cell and laughed. “That Jason’s hilarious. Oh, and P.S. We’re sending the local Russian mafia after Jayne.” He made a cutting motion at his throat.

  “He’s kidding.” Jason came up behind him and slapped him on the back.

  “Pity,” I grumbled.

  “Dude, why are you even marrying her?” This from Max.

  Jason paled and looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet. “It’s complicated, and it’s kind of also why I wanted you guys away from Mom and Dad for a bit.”

  “Could have done without the whole prison thing,” I said sourly.

  Jason shrugged. “Jayne would have followed us to a bar, plus she has spies everywhere.”

  “Shocker.” I grumbled. “So un-complicate things for us.”

  “I have to marry her.”

  “No you don’t!” Colton shot to his feet. “You really don’t!”

  “I do!” Jason yelled. “She’s pregnant, okay?”

  After a few seconds of tense silence, Max spoke up. “Why does that matter?”

  Okay, so he voiced what everyone was thinking.

  “Because,” Jason said through clenched teeth, “It’s a small town and everyone knows everyone’s business and if I jilt her at the altar while she’s pregnant, I’ll never get to run for mayor.”

  “You want to be mayor?” I squeaked out.

  “Eventually.” He sighed. “Look, I’ve tried to get out of it, but no matter what I do, I look like a bastard. What type of guy gets a girl pregnant and then doesn’t stay with her?”

  “Question?” Max raised his hand. “How do you know she’s telling the truth?”

  Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Because she told me.”

  “Do you have a picture of the love child? Have you gone to the doctor with her? Is she really sick? Gaining weight? Losing weight? Does she pee all the time? Has she started shopping for maternity clothes? These are the things you need to know.”

  Squinting, Jason cursed and then looked down at the ground. “No to all of the above, but—”

  “Theater camp.” Max shook his head. “I’d bet my nonexistent cat on it. She’s playing you. Girls are careful about who they sleep with, and it’s possible that I have it on good authority she’s on birth control.”

  “What the hell?” Jason roared.

  “A little bird named Reid told me. Don’t worry about it.” Max waved him off and let out a long sigh. The type of sigh I was beginning to notice meant he was going to do something really stupid.

  “A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.” Max shook his head. “Man, that bus just keeps driving by and your whole family just keeps pushing me under it. Milo, you get that, right? Like I’m going to need psychological help after doing what I’m about to do.”

  “Uh-oh, what are you about to do?”

  “Save the day. I’ve always wanted to be a superhero.”

  “Max—”

  “Nope.” He held up his hand. “I’m going to need a hell of a lot of Gatorade, a camera phone, and a saw.”

  “You can’t kill her!”

  “The saw is so I can break out of the wooden box she’s going to put me in once she realizes what I’m doing. Geez, Milo, I’m not a psychopath.”

  Colton grunted.

  “Hilarious,” Max said dryly. “Okay, Jason, punch me.”

  “What?” we all yelled in unison.

  “I’m fighting for her honor. Trust me, the girls like a guy who fights for them. She’ll see the black eye and hit on me again. ” Max shrugged. “Punch me.”

  “I’m not going to punch you!” Jason looked horrified.

  “I’ll do it!” Colton shouted.

  “Not helping,” I moaned.

  “Punch me, you pansy-ass, good-for-nothing, backwood
s, doughnut-eating son of a—”

  Jason’s fist flew across Max’s face.

  He stumbled to his knees and sighed. “Grandmom, is that you? I can feel her, she’s so cold . . .”

  “Hell, Jason, you could have killed him.”

  “What’s going on in here?” The chief walked in and looked around.

  We just pointed to Max.

  “Damn bus,” he muttered.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  MILO

  “Okay, you have two hours to save his life.” I gripped Max’s shoulders. “Can you do this?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Blindfolded.” Max shivered in disgust. “Not that I’m wanting to be blindfolded anywhere near that girl.”

  “You’re pretty cool, you know that?” Jason nodded, apparently they were friends now that they weren’t behind jail bars anymore. “Oh, and P.S.: If she finds out it’s a setup, I’m denying all charges and throwing your ass in jail. Again.”

  “On what charge?” Max asked.

  “Illegal prostitution,” Jason answered.

  “Wouldn’t look so good on my job applications . . .” Max tapped his chin, then turned to me. “Okay, spray me.”

  “You’re really letting him go through with this?” Colton grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled my body away from Max. “He’s your fiancé.”

  Max raised his hand.

  “Not now, Max,” I snapped.

  “No, I think he should get to talk. After all, he’s going to go whore himself to Jayne and sacrifice his manhood on the altar of skank.”

  “Thanks, man.” Jason exhaled. “Good to know I could still be stuck with that altar every freaking day of my life. Anyone have any whis? Anyone?”

  Max reached into his back pocket and pulled out a flask.

  “Seriously?” I smacked him in the chest.

  “A dying man’s wish,” Colton said defensively. “If he wants to bathe in whiskey while mermaids sing to him—let it happen.”

  “Mermaids don’t wear tops,” Max apparently felt the need to point out.

  “Focus!” I clapped my hands. “You go in, you get out.”

  The guys burst out laughing, then Max added, “Aw baby, that’ll leave her frustrated, now won’t it?”

  “I hate men,” I muttered.

  “You love us,” Max declared loud enough for me to want to punch him in his perfect face. He put on his leather jacket and grabbed the keys to his car. “Wish me luck!”