Chapter 1

Chapter One

Abby

I nearly groaned as I started to wake up. My head throbbed as if a million tiny needles kept stabbing my brain over and over again. Add in my dry mouth and feeling about a hundred years old, and I knew I had a hangover from hell.

Too bad I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten it.

After a deep breath, I finally forced my eyes open, hoping for some clue as to where the hell I was.

The room was mostly dark, with barely any light coming in through the curtains. But wait, whose curtains were those? They looked like some kind of hotel standard fare, an ugly pattern no one would dare buy themselves.

Add in the small table with two chairs, the blasting air conditioner, and the unfamiliar nightstand right next to my face, and it was clear that I wasn’t back at my family’s home in Starry Hills.

Or anywhere in Starry Hills, for that matter.

Something shifted behind me, and I froze. Wait, was that a soft snore? Yes, yes it was.

Damn. Had I really hooked up with a guy last night? One I didn’t remember?

I slowly rolled over to see who it was. But he had his back and rather wide shoulders to me. His hair was dark, maybe black, and tattoos covered his visible arm.

Tattoos that seemed strangely familiar.

The more I stared at them, the more dread pooled in my stomach.

Because I knew who they belonged to, and it most definitely shouldn’t be him.

With a screech, I jumped out of bed.

Rafael “Rafe” Mendoza jolted upright, looked around, and scowled at me. “What the fuck, Abigail?”

Then his eyes took in my shirt—well, it was technically his shirt—and he froze. My heart pounded as his gaze met mine. “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t know, Rafael . We didn’t…me and you didn’t…did we?”

He ran his hand back and forth over his short hair. I did my best not to stare at his chiseled biceps, let alone his muscled chest, now in full view.

Okay, maybe I did peek and see he didn’t have much chest hair. Which I rather liked, because it would make licking his skin easier.

Woah, Abby. Not going to happen.

He finally replied, “I don’t know. Although why the hell are you in my bed anyway?”

“Your bed?” Something hit me, and I hugged myself harder. “Did you do this to get back at West?”

My eldest brother, Weston, had recently married Rafe’s much younger sister, Emmy. While the two guys had been best friends as children, they barely tolerated each other now.

And what better way to get back at West than to sleep with me?

Tears heated my eyes to think that Rafe, the guy I’d known since I was born, had used me that way.

Rafe jumped up, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts, and shook his head. “No, Abby. No, I would never do that. I can be an asshole sometimes, but I would never hurt you like that. I promise.”

Searching his gaze, I wanted to believe him. But believing in men had cost me my dream job, my future, and possibly my reputation, if the details ever came out.

Apart from my family, I viewed all men as potential betrayers.

Why would Rafe be any different?

A small voice in my head said, Because you’ve known him your whole life. He was a good man once, and probably still is, under his grumpy exterior.

Not wanting to cave into believing him, I turned around and flipped on the lights. As I searched for my clothes, Rafe said, “Abby, look at me. Please.”

Ever since Rafe had been injured and forced to retire from being a world-famous soccer player, he’d never once used such a gentle voice. At least, not in my hearing.

I looked over my shoulder to find him standing just behind me. He was close enough I could feel the heat of his body, and smell his spicy masculine scent.

The combination made me want to wrap my arms around him and hold him close. But no, I wouldn’t do that. Ever. For so many reasons.

After clearing my throat, I took a step back before turning to face him. “What do you want?”

“I can’t remember last night, but I know I’d never use you for revenge. Please tell me you believe me.” He gingerly took my hand, frowned, and lifted it. “Why are you wearing a wedding ring?”

I looked down, and sure enough, there was a simple gold wedding band on my ring finger. “I never wear rings. Ever.”

Rafe lifted his left hand and sure enough, he had a simple gold band too. He dropped my hand and stumbled backward. “What the fuck?” His gaze met mine. “What the hell happened last night?”

His tone poked at my temper. “You make it sound as if this is my fault. I don’t remember a damn thing either, Rafael Mendoza. And before you accuse me of tricking you to get your fortune, I don’t care about that. I don’t ever want to get married. To you, or anyone.”

After whirling around, I searched for my clothes. Because if I didn’t get dressed and leave, I might do something I’d regret. Like start throwing things.

Rafe remained silent as I gathered my dress and bra. I ran into the bathroom, shut the door, and leaned against the counter. Staring into the mirror, I noticed my ruffled hair, smudged makeup, and the deathly pallor I always got after drinking too much.

I whispered, “Oh, Abby, what the hell did you get up to last night?”

Because after what had happened during my student teaching internship in San Jose, I’d vowed to never date again, let alone marry.

So how had I ended up in a hotel room with my best friend’s older brother, with no memory of the night before? Let alone how we’d both ended up with gold bands on our ring fingers?

And if it were true, if we’d gotten hitched, then how the hell could I undo it and keep it from my family?