Marriage: Impossible (Voretti Family Book 1) Read online

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  Author's Note

  Sneak Peak - Love & Learn

  Also by Ava Blackstone

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  MARRIAGE: IMPOSSIBLE

  Copyright © 2015 by Ava Blackstone

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in an article or review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Annie Oortman

  Cover by Damonza

  ISBN: 978-1-944594-00-8

  Navy SEAL Sean Patterson didn't mean to marry his best friend's sister. But when he wakes up in a Reno honeymoon suite with a vicious hangover, a platinum band on his ring finger, and a mostly naked Keri in his bed, he knows the attraction he has spent half his lifetime repressing must've finally burst out of control—to disastrous consequences

  Keri MacKinnon has had a crush on Sean since he rescued her from imaginary pirates when she was six, but he has always seen her as his best friend's little sister. When he returns stateside after a harrowing tour of duty leaves him with a death wish, Keri will do anything to help—even pretend to be married. But as her crush blossoms into love, she must convince Sean to trust her with what really happened on the battlefield, or their make-believe marriage won’t ever grow into the real thing.

  MARRIAGE: IMPOSSIBLE

  A VORETTI FAMILY NOVELLA

  AVA BLACKSTONE

  To my grandmother, who knew that every good book had a romance.

  CHAPTER 1

  NAVY SEAL SEAN Patterson had survived six grueling months of BUD/S training, parachuted thirty-five thousand feet into enemy territory, and disarmed twenty blocks of C4. And he’d rather do all three at the same time than shake his ass in a Reno nightclub while the entire city celebrated the first night of summer.

  But Vapor was where he’d traced his best friend Ty’s ex-fiancée Brittany, so Vapor it was. And he wasn’t leaving until Bri was at his side, heading toward the parking structure for the drive back to San Diego. He couldn’t afford to fuck this up—not when the broken engagement was his fault.

  He found a vantage point at the top of the stairs that led to the DJ booth, but the strobe lighting, over-capacity crowds, and fog raining down from the ceiling all conspired to reduce his visibility. Damn! He was going to have to do this on foot.

  He threaded his way through the dancers crowding the floor. All the women seemed to be blondes, which defied the rules of biology, not to mention complicated his search for a blond cocktail waitress.

  The next blonde was taller than Bri. The one after shorter. And the next wasn’t a blonde at all.

  Sean stopped short.

  His heart rate kicked up to Mach 11. His vision tunneled, focusing on the brunette seated at the bar. Something about her…

  His gaze finally penetrated the camouflage of that sexy mussed hair, curve-hugging dress, and I-spent-the-last-hour-kissing lips. Keri MacKinnon, Ty’s little sister.

  What the hell was she doing six hundred miles from home at a meat market like Vapor?

  What the hell business is it of yours? Keep moving.

  But he hesitated, and some kid wearing a T-shirt with a fraternity insignia sauntered up to her. Sean couldn’t hear what Frat Boy was saying, but the dude’s gaze wasn’t on Keri’s deep brown eyes.

  The kid put a hand on her shoulder, and adrenaline charged through Sean’s system. He shoved through the crowd, only to see Keri removing the guy’s pasty white digits with practiced ease. “I’m meeting someone.”

  Frat Boy crowded in as close as he could without actually touching her. “How ‘bout you meet me instead?”

  A deep growl clawed up Sean’s throat. “How about you back off before I shove your head up your ass?”

  The kid jerked backward, spilling half his beer, but Keri turned smoothly, like she’d somehow expected to find him behind her. “Hey, Sean.”

  Even shouting over the music, her voice had that husky, I-want-you-in-my-bed rasp she was blissfully unaware of. And he reacted the way he always did—like he was thirteen years old and completely unable to control his body.

  Damn it, he needed a drink.

  At least Frat Boy was gone, scared away by Sean’s glare. Stepping into the empty space next to Keri, Sean signaled the bartender for a shot of vodka.

  The cheap alcohol burned his throat, doing nothing to cool him down. “What are you doing here?”

  Keri took a gulp of her drink. She had a beer instead of one of those frothy pink things the women next to her were drinking. Damn if it didn’t make her even hotter, and she was already well beyond a ten in his book. She always had been. Just like she’d always been off-limits.

  She also hadn’t answered his question, and he didn’t want to think about what that meant. “Keri?”

  Her gaze darted away. She traced the circle of condensation her glass had left on the bar with one slim finger. “I’m here for a bachelorette party.”

  She was lying. Yeah, he could see the woman with the plastic tiara that read The Future Mrs. Bennett, but the group surrounding her hadn’t so much as looked at Keri since he’d arrived.

  Something was wrong.

  He leaned closer, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. “C’mon, Ker Bear. I’m not gonna call Ty and tell on you.”

  Her eyes widened with what looked like panic. “I’m waiting for my friends. They were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, but they’re always late.”

  She must be meeting a guy. He didn’t like that idea, and he tried to wash it away with another shot, but it stuck. Anyone who’d drag her all the way to Reno, only to ditch her at some pretentious club, didn’t deserve her. That was for damn sure.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  He couldn’t tell her he was looking for Bri. If Ty found out Sean had brought her back to San Diego, he’d be too proud to take her back. So Sean gave Keri the same story he’d given her brother. “I needed a vacation.”

  That part wasn’t even a lie. His XO had given him a choice between an extended vacation to get his head on straight or a discharge.

  Those brown eyes narrowed, locking onto him like a sharpshooter sighting a target. “Your first real vacation in five years, and you choose Reno?”

  “Some buddies tipped me off about The Towers. It’s this place right outside of town. Supposed to be great for cliff diving.”

  Keri stiffened. Was her date here? Sean turned, searching the crowd, but with so many people crowded into the club, it was impossible to tell.

  “When?” she asked.

  “When what?”

  She grasped his arm near the elbow. “When are you going cliff diving?”

  The part of his brain that dealt with reason and logic and forming sentences shut down. All he was aware of was Keri. The firmness of her grip. The contrast of her light skin against his deep tan.

  “Sean? When?”

  Retreat.
<
br />   He pulled his arm free, and just enough rational thought filtered into his brain that he could answer the question. “I don’t know. I’m going to play it by ear.”

  “Well, if you don’t have definite plans, we should hang out tomorrow. I know this great hike in Tahoe that goes past four different waterfalls. You like to hike, right?”

  The strobe lighting hit her, highlighting that same hopeful-despite-the-odds smile as when she’d ask Ty if she could tag along to the movies with them back in high school. Except she wasn’t fifteen anymore. Every muscle in Sean’s body knew it, even though he hated himself for the thoughts.

  Wasn’t it enough that Ty would never walk without a limp? Would never be able to return to the SEAL teams? Did Sean have to fantasize about his best friend’s little sister, too?

  “Not a good idea.” He laid enough cash on the bar to cover his tab, then pushed away. He couldn’t look back, or he was going to do something stupid.

  “Call me if you change your mind.”

  “Yeah,” he said, but he kept walking. He was here to fix what he could of Ty’s life, not create more problems.

  But as Sean scoured the crowd for Bri, he couldn’t stop thinking about Keri. He stopped by the bar for another shot when he caught himself wondering if her date had shown. Then he downed one more when he wondered how long it would take for her to realize the loser wasn’t for her. Because she would. Keri wasn’t stupid.

  He downed yet another shot when he remembered the feel of her hand on his arm. And by the time he finally found Bri, serving Dom Pérignon to a table full of suits, the alcohol had hit his system in a serious way.

  Bri nearly smacked him with her tray as she turned from Lawyer Central, and he had a harder time keeping his balance than he should’ve. The driving beat of the music was giving him a headache. Damn. How many shots had he taken?

  “Sean,” she said, and even drunk, he could tell she wasn’t happy to see him.

  His brain issued a warning, but his mouth charged ahead. “Bri. You gotta come with me.”

  “Ex-cuse me?”

  That hadn’t come out right. “No. I mean—”

  “I’m working, Sean.”

  “But I need… No. Ty. He needs…”

  She stopped trying to worm her way around him. “Ty sent you here?”

  “Yeah.” No—that wasn’t right. “Uh…”

  “Is he okay?”

  “No. He needs you.”

  “But he’s not physically hurt?”

  He had to think about that one for a second. “No.” How crazy was that answer? Ty’s leg was never gonna be the same.

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Told you. Because Ty wants… He needs…”

  “No. Why are you here instead of him?”

  “I…”

  “Jesus, Sean. Did he even ask you to come?”

  Sean tried to push through the cloudiness in his brain to find the right words. “No. But I could tell…”

  Her demeanor snapped from receptive to pissed off, sudden as a burst of fire from a semi-automatic. “Maybe you should talk to your friend instead of harassing me at work.”

  “C’mon, Bri.” He tried for a charming smile, but he’d never been good at that, even sober. Ty was the one who charmed the ladies. Sean nursed his beer and hoped his perpetual scowl didn’t scare away Ty’s rejects.

  “Get lost. I mean it.” She tried to push past him, but he stood his ground, not even feeling it when her tray hit his chest.

  “You were engaged, Bri. Didn’t that…” The rest of his sentence evaporated, carried along by the alcohol fumes wafting from his body.

  Shit. He hadn’t been this wasted since he’d gotten word about Ty’s medical discharge.

  “Was engaged,” Bri said. “Past tense.”

  He tried to call up the speech he’d practiced for the entire nine-hour drive from San Diego to Reno, but his brain hung. “I need… You have to…”

  “Do not tell me what I have to do. I stayed with him for six months. Six months of surgery and rehab and walking on eggshells. I waited six months for the man who asked me to marry him, but he’s gone.”

  “He’s not gone. He’s only—”

  “No! I am done chasing after that ghost. Completely, absolutely, totally finished. Understand?”

  “But—”

  “I’m working. So either move your ass, or I’ll call security to move it for you.”

  “Can’t you—”

  “No!” Bri motioned to someone, and then some musclehead had him in a chokehold.

  “Don’t move!” the bouncer shouted.

  Instinct screamed conflicting instructions. Sean needed to bend the asshole’s wrists. Kick his legs out from under him. Anything to get the air flowing back into his lungs.

  But this was a club, not a battlefield, and he couldn’t afford some idiot’s injuries on his conscience. Not when there was so much there already. So he kept still. He forced every bit of tension from his muscles.

  The bouncer’s shouts had attracted a crowd, and the audience made the guy twitchy. He tightened his grip on Sean, pushing him forward. “Let’s go, asshole.”

  Sean took a single step, and the room listed to the left. He stumbled.

  The big guy overcompensated, shoving him into a support beam.

  Sean’s head rang.

  Instinct took over. In one explosive movement, he yanked the bouncer’s hands free of his neck.

  The motion carried the guy back, into the same beam Sean’s head had gotten up close and personal with.

  The bouncer clasped his hand to his shoulder. “That’s assault, asshole! I’m gonna have you arrested.”

  The crowd roared like they were cheering for the UFC championships, and gravity switched directions. Sean swayed, trying to find his balance.

  An arm came around his shoulders.

  He breathed in the scent of tropical flowers and sunshine. Keri.

  “Come on.” The urgency in her voice jerked him into motion.

  Somehow, she got them through the crowd. Another few steps, and they’d moved through an unmarked door into an interior hallway connecting the club to the Palais Hotel.

  His legs didn’t want to move, but the first lesson he’d learned in BUD/S training was that he was the boss of his muscles, not the other way around. So he followed Keri down a hallway. Up a flight of stairs. Down another hall, and through an unmarked door.

  At some point—he wasn’t sure when—the sounds of pursuit had faded. Keri pulled the door shut, and it stayed firmly closed.

  She blew out a breath and smiled at him. “You had to start a fight.”

  The tiny movement transformed her face, making Sean dizzy for a reason that had nothing to do with alcohol. He braced one hand against some kind of display case so that he wouldn’t take Keri down if his legs gave out. “I didn’t….”

  “I know. I saw what happened.” Her smile faded. “We’ll hang out here until the coast is clear.”

  A set of double doors opened, letting a tiny guy in a powder-blue tuxedo into the lobby where they were waiting.

  Shit. Was Sean hallucinating?

  “Pardon me, sir. Madame. This is not a basement recreation room.” The man—or hallucination—spoke with a funny accent. Sean concentrated on placing it so he wouldn’t pass out. It sounded French, but not quite, like the guy had copied it from one of those learn-a-language-in-thirty-days programs.

  Frenchie wrinkled his nose at Keri like he smelled something funny. “One does not ‘hang out’, as you so colorfully put it, in the Palais Hotel wedding chapel.”

  *

  Keri stared at the funny little man in the powder-blue tux, half expecting him to burst out laughing and tell her she’d been Punk’d. He held his condescending glare.

  Now that the panic and adrenaline of the chase were receding, she noticed all the details of the room that she’d skipped over in her single-minded quest to find a place that wasn’t swarming with security person
nel. The jewelry case drew her gaze first. It held the kind of rings a professional athlete would give his wife in the middle of a public cheating scandal. However, the flimsy lock suggested these gigantic stones were probably cubic zirconia rather than the real thing.

  The gilt-framed photos on the wall featured brides in dresses that closely resembled lingerie. One bride was frenching her groom. Another couple was blowing kisses to an officiate dressed as Elvis. And then there was the sign—the one she should have noticed within a second of stepping through the doorway because it was hot pink neon. Palais Hotel Wedding Chapel: We Sell Happy Endings.

  “I’m so sorry,” Powder-Blue Tux said, his nasal voice not sounding the least bit apologetic. “But this area is reserved for customers of the chapel and their invited guests.”

  Keri slanted a glance at Sean, who was leaning against the ring display like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

  Good thing she’d followed him to Reno. He’d always been brave, but he’d never been foolish. Heli-skiing, big wave surfing, and taking the same ninety-foot jump into Lake Tahoe that had killed two local teens last month wasn’t his style. After his kiteboarding injury last week, she’d had to do something. Sean might’ve brought some kind of death wish home with him from his last tour, but she wasn’t going to let him go that easily. Not on her watch.

  She gave Powder-Blue Tux her brightest smile. “I’m sorry to cause this disruption, but we’ll only be a few minutes. My friend just needs to catch his breath.”

  “I’m afraid he’ll have to do so elsewhere.” Powder-Blue Tux picked up a phone. “Unless you’d like me to contact security….”

  “No!” She grabbed a credit card from her beaded black clutch. “Here. Charge us for something. Then we’ll be customers.”

  He took the card using the tips of his fingers, like he was afraid it might be contaminated.

  “I’ll take that ring.” She pointed to the smallest of the “diamonds,” which had an oh-so-subtle hot pink tint that matched the neon sign.