Waking Up Married--A friends to lovers romance
“Dallas, can I see your hand?” Zora pointed to his left hand, hanging at his side.
He looked at her strangely, but complied. That, apparently, was when he first saw it, too. “Is that a—”
“Wedding band?” Zora stepped closer on wobbly legs, barely able to get the words out of her mouth. “It is. And this—” Zora held up her hand and showed it to her friend “—appears to be its match.”
Dallas’s eyes widened and he slapped a palm over his gaping mouth for a moment.
“Dallas, these aren’t cheap trinkets.” She pointed to his ring. “I’m almost sure those are real diamonds set in platinum.”
Her friend stared at his hand again, blinking, but not saying a word.
“My phone is charging now, but I need to check my credit cards. All of them. I have several bags in my room from a bridal shop. I think we honestly might’ve gotten—”
“Married.” Dallas’s voice was hoarse. He waved a piece of paper that he’d picked up off the dresser. “According to this document, we are now Mr. and Mrs. Dallas Matthew Hamilton.”
* * *
Waking Up Married by Reese Ryan is part of
The Bourbon Brothers series.
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to the fictional town of Magnolia Lake, Tennessee, where my Bourbon Brothers series is set. This series follows the romantic adventures of the Abbott siblings—four of whom help run the world-renowned King’s Finest Distillery.
In Waking Up Married, Zora Abbott finds herself in a sticky situation when she awakes in Vegas married to her longtime platonic best friend—Dallas Hamilton. Zora is already labeled the impetuous hothead of the family, so it doesn’t bode well for her bid to lead her family’s company into the future. And in the midst of the deal of a lifetime, getting married under the influence won’t do much for Dallas’s reputation either. But when the best friends strike a deal to stay married for one year, they’ll discover that there’s more to their lifelong friendship than either of them has been willing to admit.
Thank you for joining me for the passion, secrets and drama of my Bourbon Brothers series. If you have a question or comment, visit reeseryan.com/desirereaders to drop me a line. While you’re there, be sure to join my VIP Readers newsletter list for series news, reader giveaways and more.
Until our next adventure,
Reese Ryan
Reese Ryan
Waking Up Married
Reese Ryan writes sexy, emotional love stories served with a heaping side of family drama.
Reese is a native Ohioan with deep Tennessee roots. She endured many long, hot car trips to family reunions in Memphis via a tiny clown car loaded with cousins.
Connect with Reese via Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or reeseryan.com. Join her VIP Readers Lounge at bit.ly/VIPReadersLounge. Check out her YouTube show where she chats with fellow authors at bit.ly/ReeseRyanChannel.
Books by Reese Ryan
Harlequin Desire
The Bourbon Brothers
Savannah’s Secret
The Billionaire’s Legacy
Engaging the Enemy
A Reunion of Rivals
Waking Up Married
Dynasties: Secrets of the A-List
Seduced by Second Chances
Visit her Author Profile page at Harlequin.com, or reeseryan.com, for more titles.
You can find Reese Ryan on Facebook, along with other Harlequin Desire authors, at Facebook.com/harlequindesireauthors!
Thank you to all of my amazing readers and fellow authors who’ve read and helped promote my Bourbon Brothers series. Your enthusiasm for and willingness to recommend this series to fellow readers has meant so much to me.
To the phenomenal readers in my Reese Ryan VIP Readers Lounge on Facebook: y’all are the best! Thank you for your continued support, feedback and encouragement. I am forever grateful for it and for you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Excerpt from How to Live with Temptation by Fiona Brand
One
Zora Abbott sat in the nursery at her brother and sister-in-law’s home, holding her new niece, who was barely a week old.
Remington Renee Abbott—Blake and Savannah’s baby girl—was the newest addition to their growing family. And Zora was already obsessed.
Zora smoothed down her niece’s headful of soft, shiny black curls as she stared into the girl’s wide, dark, expressive eyes. She gently tapped Remi’s adorable button nose. Baby girl blinked in response, her mouth opening slightly.
Remi stared at Zora as if she was both slightly amused and mildly disinterested at the same time.
Zora glanced over to where Savannah had suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Remi’s facial expressions crack me up. She definitely has her mama’s no-nonsense fierceness.”
“And her aunt ZoZo’s ability to look right through you and make you question yourself,” Savannah added, smiling.
“True.” Zora grinned. “You and Blake are going to have your hands full with this one.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Savannah agreed. “And I hate to break up the lovefest, but your brother asked me to remind you that you need to leave for the airport soon or you’ll miss your flight to Vegas.”
“I know.” Zora brushed the backs of her fingers against the baby’s rosy cheeks. Remi’s skin was the same soft brown as her mother’s. “I just hate to be away from her for three whole days.”
“Remi will be right here waiting for her aunt ZoZo when you get back.” Savannah stepped into the room with its mauve-painted walls and straightened the dusty-rose bedding draped across Remi’s crib.
Zora kissed her young niece’s forehead, then reluctantly handed the baby to her mother. A hint of a smile ghosted over Remi’s little face as her eyes lit up with recognition. Savannah cooed softly in the baby’s ear, then nuzzled her forehead.
Zora bit back the envy that knotted her gut the tiniest bit. More than anything, she wanted children of her own. A startling realization she’d made nearly two and a half years ago—the moment she’d first held Remi’s older brother, Davis. Zora had been sure it was a hormonal phase. A passing mood she’d get over once she’d had her fill of changing dirty diapers.
But the feeling hadn’t passed.
Her desire to be a mother grew with each additional child born into their family. Davis. Her cousin Benji’s twins, Beau and Bailey. Now Remi. Each wedding or baby shower she’d attended made her painfully aware of her deepening desire. Made her ache with a sense of loss over something she’d never even had.
The night after Remi was born, Zora had lain in bed, staring at the ceiling, preoccupied with her growing desire to be a mom. She’d climbed out of bed in th
e middle of the night, opened her laptop and researched the idea that’d been brewing in her brain for months.
Who said she needed to wait for Prince Charming to come along to become a mother?
Zora was the sales VP at their world-renowned family-owned distillery, King’s Finest. Her family was among the wealthiest in the region. She certainly had the financial means to raise a child alone. And her grandfather, parents, brothers, and their significant others were all the village she’d need to raise a child.
She was days away from her thirty-second birthday. Why should she wait for some phantom husband who might never come along?
“Everything okay, Zo?” Savannah laid Remi down.
“Of course.” Zora’s cheeks burned, as if her sister-in-law had been privy to her thoughts. “Going over a few things in my head before the trip.”
“Well, I’ll go let your brother and nephew know you’ll be ready to leave shortly.” Savannah squeezed her arm. “That’ll give you two a few more minutes.”
Zora nodded at her sister-in-law gratefully, then returned her attention to her niece, whose heavy eyelids drooped as she drifted off to sleep.
She glided her fingertips over the signature burned into the wood of the crib. It was a gorgeous original piece, handcrafted by Zora’s longtime best friend—premier furniture maker Dallas Hamilton. The reason for her Las Vegas trip.
Dallas was being honored with an award for innovation, thanks to a stunning line of furniture he’d designed the previous year. He’d spent months in Thailand working with native furniture artists, studying their designs and learning their craft.
He’d designed breathtaking pieces that were a marriage of Western and Eastern aesthetics, inspired by intricate Thai designs. And the award-winning collection included pieces designed by native artists.
Zora couldn’t be happier for her best friend.
The award presentation in Vegas capped a whirlwind year in which Dallas had graced the cover of high-profile magazines, been asked to design furniture pieces for a growing number of celebrities and done a handful of television interviews.
Since they were both currently single, he’d invited Zora to Vegas as his plus-one for the award ceremony. Afterward, they would spend their final forty-eight hours in Vegas partying—an early nod to her impending thirty-second birthday.
It was nothing unusual for them. Dallas had been her plus-one at countless weddings and business or family events. And whenever they were both single, which was far more often than she liked to admit, they vacationed together at least once a year.
Dal still owned the cabin his grandfather had left him years ago, complete with a workshop where he handcrafted pieces—like Remi’s crib—or developed new designs. It was the workshop where his grandfather had taught him how to make furniture and cabinetry when he was just a little boy. Dallas still considered Magnolia Lake home, but he spent most of the year at various places around the world, opening new showrooms for his company, Hamilton Haus, teaching workshops and being inspired by the unique furniture designs of various cultures.
Zora tucked the soft blanket beneath her niece’s chin and smoothed down her hair. “Goodbye, sweet pea. Auntie ZoZo will be back soon,” she whispered to the sleeping newborn before slipping out of the room and quietly closing the door behind her.
Zora hated to leave her niece behind, but she was eager to see Dallas. She’d made an important decision, and she needed to ask a huge favor of him. Her stomach twisted in a knot when she imagined how he would react.
Two
Dallas Hamilton stepped out of the beautiful glass shower at the luxury hotel where he’d been staying all week. The suite, comped by the organization honoring him with an award later that evening, was far more elegant than anything he would’ve booked for himself.
His furniture design company had done quite well since its humble beginnings in his grandfather’s barn ten years ago. Still, growing up, his family hadn’t had much. So though he’d learned to enjoy the money, he hadn’t been able to forget how quickly a person’s circumstances could change.
He could still remember the day his mother had sat him and his older brother down to tell them that she and their father were getting a divorce. And that they would be moving into their grandfather’s house.
That memory never left him. It reminded him that people and circumstances were temporary and to avoid getting too attached. Which was why his lifelong friendship with Zora Abbott was a minor miracle.
Dallas secured the towel around his waist and wiped the condensation from the ornate bathroom mirror. He scratched his stubbled jaw and surveyed his reflection.
His mother would say he needed a haircut and a shave, tasks he usually tackled himself. But this was one of those rare occasions that merited a splurge. So he’d booked an appointment for an obscenely overpriced facial and haircut in the hotel’s posh spa.
“That’s a pretty fancy towel and everything, but I think you can do better than that for tonight.”
Dallas jerked his head in the direction of the voice as familiar as his own. Even when they were at opposite ends of the world, Zora’s voice was often the last one he heard before drifting off to sleep.
“Wasn’t expecting you for a few hours, Zo. Or I would’ve closed the door.” Startled by her surprise appearance, his heart was still racing. Dallas tightened the towel around his waist, lest he end up flashing his friend. His bare chest, on the other hand, Zora had seen countless times on the beach or at the pool.
“I know.” Her dark eyes glimmered, and one edge of her mouth curved in a slow smile that honestly did things to him that it shouldn’t.
Because they were best friends. Nothing more. Despite that inadvertent-ish kiss beneath the mistletoe a couple years ago that nearly derailed their friendship.
“I sent a text about switching my flight yesterday.”
“Sorry, Zo. I didn’t get your message.”
He hated text messages and social media.
Anything worth saying should be said in person, or at least on the phone.
It was his grandfather’s philosophy, which he’d happily adopted. Dallas used text messaging sparingly, out of deference to Zora, his older brother and the occasional girlfriend. But a good old-fashioned phone call was still his preferred method of communication.
“Sorry you had to make it here on your own. I’d scheduled a driver to pick you up at the airport.”
“It’s fine.” A smile lit Zora’s face, and her terra cotta–colored skin practically glowed beneath the bright bathroom lights. She stepped just inside the doorway and leaned her shoulder against the wall, her arms folded. The innocent gesture lifted her breasts and exposed more of her cleavage in the low-cut top.
Not that he was looking. He was observant, and he couldn’t help noticing things.
Yep, that was why his eyes were drawn there, not because...
Dallas cleared his throat and scratched his chin, returning his attention to his own scraggly hair and face in the steamed mirror.
While most women he wasn’t sleeping with would have probably taken the hint and retreated from the bathroom by now, his best friend wasn’t shy. Nor was she big on privacy. Especially that of the men in her life, given that she’d grown up in a house with her father, Duke Abbott, and four older brothers.
She gripped her chin, her head cocked as she studied his face. As if they were sitting together fully clothed in the living room.
“I know, I know.” Dallas ruffled his hair, which was a few inches longer than he usually wore it. “I need a haircut and a shave. My mother told me yesterday when we had a video call.”
“Sounds like Tish,” Zora laughed. She stepped closer and spiked her fingers through his wet hair, tugging it to its full length.
“The haircut I can’t help you with,” she said. “But I can definitely shave you. I’ve gotten good w
ith a straight razor. Pops taught me how so I could shave him,” she added when he cocked an eyebrow.
Pops was her grandfather, Joseph Abbott. Grandpa Joe was the Abbott family patriarch and the founder of the distillery that she, her siblings and her father now ran. He’d had a stroke several weeks ago. He was at her parents’ house recovering and, according to Zora, driving all of them crazy while they looked after him.
“You’re offering to shave me with a straight razor?” He guffawed. “Sounds like a setup to a really cheesy murder mystery, and I’m the guy who ends up on the floor with his throat slashed in the first five minutes of the film.”
“Give me a little credit.” Zora smirked, propping a fist on one generous hip. “If I planned to murder you, I’d be much more clever about it than Oops, I s’pose the razor must’ve slipped clean out of my hand.” She pressed the back of her other hand to her forehead in a dramatic pose.
Dallas chuckled, rubbing his chin. “I have no doubt you’re right about that. But I think I’ll pass on the shave just the same.” He winked at her. “I have an appointment for a haircut and a shave in the spa downstairs.”
“Ooh. Look at you being all fancy. You’re not turning into one of those high-maintenance men, are you? Because there is only enough room for one high-maintenance personality in this relationship, and I think we both know that’s me.” She pressed her open palm to her chest.
“Don’t worry, your spot is safe, Princess.” Dallas grinned, invoking the nickname that Zora’s father still sometimes called her. A nickname he knew his friend hated. She was always competing with her brothers. She didn’t want to be a princess. She wanted to be king of the hill, especially as they all jockeyed to be named the successor to Duke Abbott as CEO of King’s Finest.
“Don’t call me princess.” Zora punched him in the gut playfully.
“Fine.” Dallas chuckled. “But I have to get dressed or I’ll be late for my spa appointment. So you’ve got exactly five seconds to get out of here or I’m ripping off this towel.” He gripped the towel in what they both knew to be an idle threat.