Stripped Down Read Online Free PDF Page B

the black, tiled floor of the hallway and into the kitchen. It was almost entirely white except for the gray, marbled counters and chrome appliances. Black stools lined up in front of an island, and there, I saw my bag and my purse. My phone was lying next to it, and I snatched it up.
    “Sorry—it kept ringing,” Beckett said with a small grimace as he handed me coffee anyway. “I thought someone might be worried about you.”
    I swallowed. “Did you answer?”
    “Yeah... It was your mom. Don’t worry. I told her you stopped off with a friend who’d just broken up with her boyfriend and I was her brother.” He linked his fingers in front of him and stretched them, a light frown marring his forehead. “She said she was taking CiCi to the store with her because your dad wanted pancakes, so there was no rush in you getting her.”
    I glanced down at the screen. Eight thirty. “Right. Okay. She wasn’t mad?”
    “No, not at all. Although I don’t think she believed my story.” His lips tugged slightly on one side. “I also found this.” He slid me an envelope emblazoned with a wedding chapel logo in the top-right corner.
    The scrawling handwriting addressed it to Mr. and Mrs. Cruz.
    Bile rose up my throat as I opened it and pulled out a flier and a wedding certificate.
    A fucking wedding certificate. Signed by us both.
    I clapped my hand over my mouth, shoving the flier down, and ran for the sink. Vomit felt like it was scratching the back of my throat as I threw up into the shiny, chrome sink. Hands came behind me and scooped my hair back as I vomited again, my stomach convulsing painfully.
    I threw up twice more then spat excess saliva onto the plug hole when I was done.
    Vomiting.
    I guess that’s not the usual response to finding out you’d drunkenly married a hot, rich guy.
    Probably the right one when you find out you’d drunkenly married your boss though.
    “Sorry,” I whispered, taking my hair and straightening up. I ran the tap to clean the sink out and wiped my mouth with some tissue Beckett had handed me.
    “Not the response I was expectin’, not gonna lie.” His lips quirked again, and this time, he passed me a small glass of water. “Here. Sip this.”
    “Thanks.” My voice was weak. “I have hair ties in my bag. The side pocket. Could you grab me one?”
    “Sure.” He unzipped the small pocket and handed me a black one.
    “Thanks,” I said again, taking it. I set the glass on the counter as I reached behind me and scooped my hair on top of my head in a messy twist. It probably didn’t look better than just letting it go free, but at least it was out of my face. “How did it happen? The...” I couldn’t say the words, so I just pointed to my hand.
    “If I knew, I’d tell you.” He leaned against the island and folded his arms across his body.
    My eyes were drawn momentarily to his biceps. Good. God.
    “It’s a blank. But I called the chapel this morning and confirmed it and checked my transactions online. It’s all legit, Cassie.”
    I felt sick again. I sipped the water in the hope it’d keep the bile and vomit down. “How do we make it go away?”
    “I hope we can get an annulment.” He scratched at his collarbone. “I’m not sure since we had sex after, but we were both under the influence of alcohol, so I’m hoping that my lawyer will give me that as a viable reason when he’s in the office in thirty minutes.”
    Good. That was good. I didn’t see any reason why the alcohol wouldn’t be a good enough reason to void the marriage. Or, rather, “marriage.”
    “If that’s what you want.”
    “What do you mean if that’s what I want?” My skin prickled at his insinuation. “Are you suggesting I did this deliberately?”
    He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I’m not. I did when I realized what had happened, but I know you’re not that kind of person.”
    “I don’t want anything you have, Beckett. This”—I gestured between