Chapter 5

Alex’s POV

My mornings always feel like punishment with the light being too bright and kind of exposing every mistake made under the cover if darkness but this morning, it doesn't feel that way because I wake up with a gorgeous woman by my side.

Melody Jansen-Kincaid is laying in my arms and not a single goddamn regret.

She’s half sprawled across my chest, one leg tangled with mine, hair a dark, messy halo on the pillow. The silk sheets are twisted around us, evidence of everything we did last night and a little of what we didn’t get around to because she fell asleep.

I feel good. Really fucking good.

There’s something about her I can't seem to place my hand on. Maybe is the way she moves or laughs. It might just be how beautiful she is and how each time she smiles, I feel my cock twitch.

She was meant for me. I knew it the moment I saw her at that mixer. I saw it again when she stood in that awful chapel and told me “I do” without letting her thoughts win. And last night when she moved underneath me, nails scratching and leaving marks at my back.

She’s mine now. Not in the way Rick Browning thought he owned her, like she was a prize for good behavior or a career move. No. Mine because she chose me. Because I didn’t have to lie to get her, didn’t have to pretend. Because she made the same reckless and magnificent decision I did.

And I have no intention of undoing it and going back.

I reach for my phone on the nightstand, checking the time. It is 7:14 a.m. Too early for normal people, but perfect for me. I have a couple of missed calls from Mark. A text that reads: You married her? Jesus Christ, Alex.

I smirk.He was probably tired of me but I wasn't stopping anytime soon.

The woman in my bed shifts, a soft groan escaping her lips. She presses her face against my chest, then stiffens immediately. I can feel the exact moment the memories from last night start coming back. The stiffening of her shoulders and the war her body recoils.

Here we go, I think.

She lifts her head, blinking against the light, her mascara even more smudged than it was last night. It takes a second for her gaze to focus on me. Another second for the horror to set in.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, the sleep clearing from her eyes.

I prop an arm behind my head, watching her. “Good morning, Mrs. Kincaid.”

She bolts upright so fast she nearly knocks over the glass of water on the nightstand. The sheet falls away, and for a brief, perfect moment, I get to admire the curve of her back, the marks my hands left on her hips.

Then she remembers she’s naked and yanks the sheet up.

“Mrs Kincaid? Oh my God,” she mutters, pressing a palm to her forehead. “Tell me this didn’t happen.”

I don’t bother sugarcoating it. “It happened.”

She stares at me, wide-eyed, the panic clear in her eyes, the bedsheet clutched to her chest like a shield “The chapel and the rings… Jesus, we signed paperwork, didn’t we?”

I reach over to the nightstand, grab the folded marriage certificate, and hold it up. “Sealed and certified. You are officially Melody Jansen-Kincaid.”

She groans, flopping back against the pillows. “No I'm not."

I raise an eyebrow at her and she sighs "Look, I was drunk and furious. I wasn’t thinking straight and you're Alexander Kincaid for God sake”

“But you still said ‘I do.’” I smiled, "You even chose the chapel who wedded in and what does me being who I am have to do with anything"

She throws an arm over her face. “Oh my God. I need an annulment.”

“No.”

That gets her attention. She sits up again, hair falling around her face. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean no.” I swing my legs out of bed, standing to grab a pair of pants from a nearby chair. “We’re married. I’m not undoing it.”

Her jaw drops. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Possibly,” I admit, buttoning my pants. “But it’s done. And I don’t intend to start backtracking now.”

She stares at me like I’ve lost my goddamn mind, and maybe I have. But I’ve never backed down from something I wanted, and I’m not about to start now.

“I don’t even know you,” she snaps.

“You know me better than you knew Rick.” I throw back at her and the moment his name leaves my mouth, she flinches. I see the look of humiliation on her face and she immediately scrambles out of bed, dragging the sheet with her. “I need to get out of here.”

“Go ahead,” I say easily. “But the marriage stands.”

She grabs her wedding dress from the floor, shaking it out. The thing looks worse than she does. It's wrinkled and stained from everything that went to hell last night.

"You can wear something of mine" I offer but she ignores me.

She’s shimmying into the dress when her phone starts buzzing on the nightstand. She freezes, staring at it like it’s a live grenade.

“Let me guess,” I say. “Rick?”

The name flashes on the screen in bold white letters.

She hesitates, then reaches for it but I’m faster.

I snatch the phone from the table, answer the call, and hold it to my ear. “Hello, Rick.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end. Then, “Who the fuck is this?”

“Alexander Kincaid.”

Another beat. Then, “Where’s Melody? What are you doing with my fiancee? Put her on the phone"

I glance at her. She’s gone pale, teeth biting her bottom lip.

I don’t hand her the phone.

Instead, I lean against the wall and let my voice drop until it's sharp enough to cut.

“Your ex-fiancée, you mean?" I chuckle "She's my wife now"

It takes a second for the words to sink in. Then the explosion hits.

“You piece of shit! What the fuck did you do? Melody!” His voice is high, panicked. “Melody, baby, don’t do this. Don’t listen to him. He’s lying. It was a bachelor party and I didn’t mean any of it. You don’t even know this guy!”

He must have forgotten that I was his boss for a slight moment.

“She's no longer yours and in case you don't know, you no longer work for me.”

That shuts him up. I can practically hear the gears turning in his coked-out head, the realization of losing his job settling in.

“There’s public video of you doing cocaine off a stripper’s ass in the same week of a corporate event you were required to attend. Congratulations — you just tanked your career in less than eight hours.”

“You can’t fire me,” he spits, trying to salvage what was left of his pride

“I can,” I say smoothly, “and I just did. Don’t bother coming in Monday.”

I hang up before he can respond and toss the phone onto the bed.

Melody stares at me like I’m an alien.

“You just fired him.”

“Of course I did.”

“You didn’t even think about it.”

I shrug. “He was dead weight. And he made it personal.”

She presses a hand to her stomach, like she’s trying to steady herself. “This is insane. You're the CEO of the company I work for” she muttered to herself and I just watch her

"This is insane" she says again and I nod

“Probably,”

She grabs her phone from the bed where I tossed it. “I need air.”

I don’t stop her. I don’t say anything. I just watch as she bolts for the door in a wrinkled wedding dress, tangled hair, and the sharp, beautiful fury that made me marry her in the first place.

The door slams behind her.

I let out a breath, running a hand through my hair.

Mark chooses that exact moment to text again: You’re unbelievable.

Maybe I was but I can’t bring myself to regret my decision. I look at the rumpled sheets and then at the marriage certificate on the nightstand.

Melody Jansen-Kincaid definitely has a hell of a ring to it.