Money For Something

6 - White Wedding

**Willow**

The chunk of ice on my finger was blinding. Oh, how I prayed it was something I'd won from a game and was wearing as a joke. Maybe my skills when it came to the claw had improved.

Ace had gone ghostly white and was flapping a piece of paper at me. "I think we got married last night," he said faintly.

I couldn't possibly have heard that correctly. "Can you please repeat that?" I asked squishing down my panic. Yes, I'd planned to have a Vegas wedding, but Ace was not my intended groom. I was supposed to marry the bastard I never wanted to see again.

"I think we got married last night," Ace said again, a bit louder this time. He sounded as sick as I suddenly felt.

Without warning, the nausea that I'd so valiantly suppressed all morning rose up and threatened to overwhelm me.

"Oh shit!"

I flew off the bed and skidded through the bathroom until I was hunched over the toilet. It was revolting. Take it from me, vitamin water does not taste great on the way back up. Thank god my hair was short enough that I didn't need to hold it back. It was one less thing to worry about in my current misery. I grabbed at the toilet paper and wiped my mouth.

My moan of despair echoed off the porcelain.

Positioned as I was, with my arms wrapped around the toilet bowl, the ring was right at eye level. It was an obscenely huge Asscher cut diamond solitaire on what I assumed was a platinum band. It was stunning in its simplicity. In the ideal circumstances, for example an adoring Jack waiting on bended knee when I'd knocked on the hotel room door, it would have been my dream ring. As it was, I was struggling to remember the circumstance that had put the damn thing on my finger. Things were far from ideal.

I dropped my cheek down onto my upper arm and moaned again. In a moment I'd need to make some attempt at dealing with the situation, but for now I just wanted to wallow. On the bathroom floor. Hanging over the toilet bowl. It felt appropriate, sue me.

The sound of water running was followed by the feel of a cool cloth being draped across the back of my neck. "I'm really, really sorry," Ace said rubbing his hand up and down my back. It felt nice. Soothing. Very husbandly.

Gah!

"What are you sorry for? As I understand it, we both had to say I do, if we are in fact married." Oh look, I was well on my way already to being the bitchy wife if the acid in my voice was any indication. "Maybe I should be apologising to you, after all at least we both know that I was single," I continued in a softer tone. "You might have a girlfriend waiting for you at home."

I forced myself into a more upright position away from the toilet so I could face him. I didn't think I was going to hurl again. That was a major plus. He was crouched beside me still wearing nothing but his jeans. I should have been too hungover to notice how good a look that was for him but . . . I'm human and sexy tattoos are hard to miss.

"Nothing to worry about there, I was free of commitment," he said with a crooked smile and held up his hand. There, on his wedding finger, alongside the rings on his middle and index fingers was a plain, shiny band. It looked new.

Things weren't looking good for my single status.

Ace stood up from his crouch and extended a hand to me. "Come on Petal, we're not going to solve anything sitting on this bathroom floor feeling justifiably sorry for ourselves."

I took his hand and stood up because he was right. I couldn't hide in the bathroom for the rest of my life, no matter how spacious and luxurious it was. I took the mouth wash he offered me and took a swig, swishing it around my mouth before spitting it into the sink. Beside me Ace did the same. It was strangely domestic, the kind of thing a husband and wife might do. The odds were very good that that was exactly what we were.