Vegas Wedding, Weaver Bride. Allison Leigh
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“I do. Wait...did I?”
Hometown girl Penny Garner is having a Vegas moment: waking up in bed with her teenage crush, a ring on her finger. Then there’s the matter of the marriage certificate. How did that happen? The jury’s out on whether it’s Penny’s dream come true or worst nightmare.
Quinn Templeton has to wonder what they actually did that night, too. And when they get back to Weaver, Wyoming, the air force pararescueman can’t just ignore the real feelings for his fake bride—especially if Penny’s pregnant. Will they remember what brought them to the altar in the first place...and maybe sign up for a repeat performance?
“It’s not real.”
She picked the paper up. Studied her signature on the line that said Bride. She took in Quinn’s slash of a signature, as well.
She looked up at him, then just as quickly away. When she’d been fifteen, she’d had a crazy mad crush on him. So much so that she’d thrown herself at him. He’d been home on leave from the air force. He’d ruthlessly brushed aside her immature advances.
Now she wished she still possessed some of the outrageous guts she’d had in her youth. Because it was more than a little mortifying to be knocking on the door of thirty and feeling wholly out of her depth when faced with a seriously naked, gorgeous man.
A man with whom she’d apparently spent the night.
A man with whom she’d apparently signed a marriage certificate.
* * *
Return to the Double C: Under the big blue Wyoming sky, this family discovers true love
Vegas Wedding, Weaver Bride
Allison Leigh
A frequent name on bestseller lists, ALLISON LEIGH’s high point as a writer is hearing from readers that they laughed, cried or lost sleep while reading her books. She credits her family with great patience for the time she’s parked at her computer, and for blessing her with the kind of love she wants her readers to share with the characters living in the pages of her books. Contact her at allisonleigh.com.
For my husband.
Always surprising and ever holding my heart.
Contents
Las Vegas, Nevada
Penny Garner stared at the piece of paper Quinn Templeton was holding between his long fingers. Her stomach, which had already been hovering somewhere two floors below her feet, sank even farther.
She clutched the white bedsheet closer against her naked body, trying desperately to pretend that Quinn wasn’t just as naked. He simply wasn’t bothering with a sheet to hide anything. From the top of his rumpled, dark-haired head to the long, vaguely bony toes on his feet, he was entirely, utterly, gloriously bare.
And he didn’t seem the least bit shy about it, either.
Which left Penny two choices.
Focus on him, or focus on the piece of paper he’d found on the nightstand next to the bed.
And the piece of paper—disturbing as it was—seemed safer at the moment. “What is that?”
Quinn flicked the official-looking document onto the bed that stood between them. The tumbled bed that Penny had scrambled out of only minutes earlier, dragging the sheet along with her. “You can read.”
She could read. But that didn’t mean the marriage certificate, lying with lopsided innocence against one of the bed pillows, made any sense.
She unwound one arm from the sheet to reach out for the sheet of paper. “It’s not real.”
She picked it up. Studied her signature on the line that said “Bride.” Penelope Garner was looped across it in familiar, lopsided cursive. The “Groom” line was similarly obscured under Quinn’s slashing signature.
She looked up at him. Then just as quickly away. When she’d been fifteen, she’d had a crazy mad crush on him. So much so, that she’d thrown herself at him. Tried, in her juvenile way, to seduce him. He’d been home on leave from the air force. She’d been living with her latest foster family, the Bennetts, across the street from where his parents lived.