Accidentally Married to My Brother's Best Friend

By Vesper Young

Have you ever accidentally married someone?

 

Of course you haven't. I mean, how do you accidentally pledge to love and honor one person for the rest of your life? Especially if that person isn't even your boyfriend. Hell, not even a friend-with-sexy-benefits. Or a friend-without-benefits.

 

No, I accidentally married my brother's best friend.

 

I could've done worse than a firefighter with bedroom eyes that I've been crushing on for half my life, but that's besides the point.

 

It should've taken more than a few drinks and a Vegas officiant who wanted to make a buck. Really, there should be legal protections for that kind of thing…

 

It's crazy. It gets crazier when Connor agrees to let me move in with him when I have housing problems.

 

But is it crazy enough to work?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vesper Young
• Release date: Feb 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798227741769

Book preview

Chapter 1

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Iblinked awake, a dreadful headache pulsing through my head like an echo of the music from last night.

I wasn’t in my hotel room. A similar room, sure, but there were two clues it wasn’t my room. First, I was in a king-size bed rather than one of the two queens in the room I shared with Gwen.

The second not-so-itty-bitty clue was currently poking into my backside.

Oh. My. God.

Had I taken some random guy home? That wasn’t my usual MO, but the small town I lived in didn’t offer a wide selection to begin with. Though what a coincidence my hookup had been at the same hotel.

I risked a glance over my shoulder, trying not to move in case Mystery Man was still asleep.

Oh.

This was not some random guy.

I gave myself a moment to take in the sight, the tousled hair, the bare torso I was prone to lusting after. I allowed myself that one precious moment to fantasize. Last night had put all sorts of ideas in my head. Dangerous ideas.

Because somehow, with the craziness of last night, I’d done something so beyond colossally stupid.

Bits and pieces were coming back to me. Calling Gwen a granny for going to bed early. Walking the Strip. Laughing at the sights. It was hard to remember details clearly as the night progressed.

The body next to me loosed a groan, shifting while still half-asleep.

And what a body it was. As he moved, I could feel every taut muscle press against me, taunting, teasing me. Every inch of my skin was electrified, desperate for the next touch. But I didn’t give in to that desire. Instead, I stayed frozen against the movement, like a bunny aware it’s suddenly gotten the attention of a tiger.

Fuck, was the first word he said, a low rumble in a sleep-ravaged tone that had me pressing my legs together. His eyes squinted open, long lashes that, if replicated, could’ve sold for hundreds of dollars at Sephora framing his piercing green eyes.

Connor O’Sullivan was not a morning person. Especially not if he had a hangover to match the one currently pounding through my skull. It felt like someone was trying to crack my skull open with a chisel.

Um, how much do you remember? I asked, keeping my voice down to a whisper.

He considered for a moment, those eyes widening slightly as if only now taking in my presence.

Enough to know I lost count of my drinks after the sixth beer.

Did we, um... I cast a glance at the messy sheets twisted around us.

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. I could feel it. Felt it travel down, far enough that I reflexively clenched my legs. "Now that I’d remember."

I blushed. It must’ve been the lingering effects of the alcohol, because Connor never said that kind of stuff to me.

Never.

Then again, he was just being a guy. Teasing me. His best friend’s little sister. To him, it was probably a step above a that’s-what-she-said joke.

Not something meant to make my stomach do somersaults.

I wanted to casually flirt back. Be cool. Savor the lazy expression on Connor’s face.

Instead, I blurted, Okay, in that case, do you remember that we got married last night?

His eyebrows quirked in confusion, then realization. Because, oh yes, we’d had the full, authentic Las Vegas experience and while I couldn’t remember it clearly, it was coming back in pieces that made me want to run away.

Then someone knocked on the door.

Chapter 2

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Daisy dove behind the bed, landing with a thud. She cast one furtive glance above, shooing me to the door, before ducking as low as she could.

I had to suppress my laughter despite this awful headache.

My first thought upon waking up was that I was dreaming. Daisy Lewis, lying next to me in bed.

Typically, those dreams didn’t have us just lying around. No, they tended to be a lot more... active.

I shook my head, refocusing. A glance down revealed I was only in boxer shorts, the way I normally slept. I pulled on my discarded jeans while the pounding grew louder. With my already aching head, someone banging on my door like a five-year-old with a sledgehammer on Halloween at a house that gave full-size Snickers was not helping.

I’m coming, hold your horses, I groaned, finally crossing to the door.

And there, mid-knock, was my sister Gwen.

Shit.

Panic was written all over her face. Not unusual. Gwen was a worrier, while I tended to keep calm under pressure. Still, there was something especially urgent about her panicked expression.

Daisy-isn’t-answering-her phone-and-she-didn’t-come-back-to-the-room-last-night, she said, barely taking a breath.

It’s probably dead, I assured her.

Where did you last see her? she prodded. You promised to keep an eye on her. And you just decided to sleep in?

Uhh, I hemmed and hawed