They just crossed the line...

Newly minted Dr. Lovely “Love” Washington plans to devote her medical career to helping women. But her own happy ending eludes her. Then one morning she wakes up in a Vegas hotel under the sheets with the very familiar and extremely charming Dr. Drake Jackson. The longtime best friends didn’t only become overnight lovers. They got married, even if neither remembers tying the knot. And Love is tormented by sizzling memories of the passion-filled night they shared.

Matters of the heart have always fascinated Drake. Now the aspiring cardiothoracic surgeon and in-demand playboy must confront his growing feelings for his oldest, most alluring, off-limits friend. Amid a disastrous family reunion and the unwanted attention of Love’s persistent ex-boyfriend, the newlyweds are digging themselves deeper into a deception that has to end. Or does it? Has Drake finally found what’s been right in front of him all along—the true Love of his life?

“Drake, what did you just do?”

Drake rubbed his chin, a frown on his face. “Uh, I kissed you.”

“Yeah, you did. Why did you do that?”

“Because you wanted me to.”

His answer was so matter-of-fact that she backed up a step. How the hell did he know that? “You can’t just keep kissing me like that. You did it in Vegas, too. Just kissed me for no reason.”

“You were upset, and I wanted you to feel better.”

“So you kissed me?”

He sighed, rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. It just felt like the right thing to do at the time.”

“And today?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated.

Love’s curiosity got the best of her and she asked, “And how do you know I wanted you to kiss me?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I can’t describe it. I can always tell when a woman wants me to kiss her.”

“So you just do it?”

“Of course not.”

“In this case you did.”

“It’s you. I kissed you because you wanted me to.”

Dear Reader,

Dr. Lovely Grace Washington burst into my life one morning in 2010 while I sat with my mother in the hospital. The name struck me like a bolt of lightning, and I pictured a beautiful, successful resident doctor who couldn’t stand her name and demanded everyone call her “Love.”

I spent so much time at the hospital that I couldn’t help but be intrigued by the lives of doctors. They devote so much time and energy into their work, and I wanted to give them a little happiness.

If you’ve read an Elle Wright novel, you’ve met Love in one of my previous books. Although she played a small role, I couldn’t help but want to tell her story. Since I love a good friends-to-lovers story, I figured her best friend would be perfect for the headstrong Love.

I’m a graduate of the University of Michigan, and I love bringing readers into Ann Arbor and Southeast Michigan. I’m elated that you’ve joined me on this journey!

Love,

Elle

ElleWright.com

@LWrightAuthor

It’s Always Been You

Elle Wright

www.millsandboon.co.uk

There was never a time when ELLE WRIGHT wasn’t about to start a book, already deep in a book or just finishing one. She grew up believing in the importance of reading, and became a lover of all things romance when her mother gave her her first romance novel. She lives in Southeast Michigan.

MILLS & BOON

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To my mother, Regina. You are missed.

Acknowledgments

I thank my God for His protection, His provision, His love. I would be nothing without Him.

To Jason; my children, Asante, Kaia, Masai; and the rest of my family—I love you all BIG. There are so many of you, I can’t name everyone. But you know who you are. I learned long ago that you don’t have to be blood to be family. That couldn’t be more true. I appreciate the time, the talks, the hugs, the tears...everything. I thank you all for your unwavering support.

To my agent, Sara—I thank you for believing in me.

To Shannon Criss, Glenda Howard and the Harlequin Kimani Family—I feel so honored to be a part of this extraordinary family. I dreamed of being a Harlequin author one day, and that dream came true.

Speaking of dreams, I still have to pinch myself sometimes. This writing journey has been amazing. I’ve met so many wonderful authors and readers. I feel so blessed. Thank you all for accepting me and encouraging me. You all mean the world to me!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Dr. Lovely Washington frowned when she felt the sun beaming down on her. Morning already? She patted the mattress, pausing when she felt cool skin under her palm. Drake. She pinched him. He pushed her hand away, grumbling something incoherent.

She smacked him. “Drake, what are you doing in my bed? And please...close the blinds. The light is killing me.”

“Whashuleafmelone,” he mumbled.

“I won’t leave you alone until you get up and shut out the sun,” she said, pinching her forehead. “My head hurts. And aren’t you late or something?”

When he didn’t move, she went to throw the sheet off, then stopped abruptly. Frowning, she patted her bare breasts. Uh-oh. Where is my shirt? Reluctantly, she slipped her hand under the sheet, over her stomach, her belly button, her—

She sat up abruptly. “Oh, my God, I’m naked!” Her mind raced to remember how she’d ended up like that. Last night was a blur. They’d booked a two-bedroom suite at the Bellagio because her family reunion was there. Two rooms, two beds. Yet Drake was in her bed and she was naked. “Oh no.”

Drake had agreed to come because she hated going to these things by herself, and she wasn’t particularly thrilled to face her family alone after her breakup with Derrick. When she needed someone—and she did—Drake was always there. He was her very best friend, since the age of two.

Her night had taken a turn for the worse when she’d received a call from the hospital that she’d lost a patient. Drake had dragged her out onto the Strip to distract her. That was all she remembered.

She held her face in her hands, praying the shooting pain in her head would stop. She remembered something else. Tequila. Lots of it. Peeking through her fingers at Drake, she sucked in a deep breath. She couldn’t tell if he was naked. He was lying on his stomach, his bare back gleaming at her in the sunlight. The sheet was draped low. Gently, she lifted the thin material.

“Drake!” she screeched, digging her nails into his back.

He pushed himself up on his elbows. “Ouch! What?”

“Get up,” she ordered through clenched teeth. “Now.”

He blinked and glanced at her with one eye. “What happened?”

Pulling the sheet with her, she hopped out of the bed. “Look at you,” she said, pointing at his bare ass. “You’re naked! Oh, my God.”

“Oh, shit.” He rolled out of bed onto the floor with a loud thump. Reaching up, he pulled the balled-up comforter with him. He finally stood up with the thick cover wrapped around his waist.

There was no movement—just eyes on eyes, heavy breathing and loud thoughts.

“Why are you naked?” Her heart raced as she watched his gaze drop to the bed.

Drake ran a hand through his wavy hair. “Why are you naked?”

She swallowed past a lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “I asked you first,” she croaked.

“Obviously, I don’t know.” He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why are you nervous?” she hissed. Drake was normally a calm and collected person, but they’d been friends long enough that she could recognize when he was nervous. After all, they’d been best friends for almost their whole lives.

His bloodshot eyes flashed to hers and his forehead creased. “I can’t remember. I just remember walking on the Strip doing shots.”

“What do you mean you can’t remember anything? You’re naked!” she shrieked.

He pressed a hand to his temple. “Love, please, be quiet. You’re making my head hurt worse. I don’t need continuous updates on our lack of clothing.”

She clutched the sheet to her chest. Tears pricked her eyes. “Drake, did we...?”

He held a hand up. “Don’t say it. There has to be a good explanation.”

“But we’re both...” She dashed a tear off her cheek.

“Don’t cry. That’s how we got into this situation in the first place.”

Placing her hands on her hips, she hissed, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He covered his eyes. “Pull the sheet back up, Love.”

Realizing she’d let it fall to the floor, she screamed and scrambled to pick it up, twisting the fabric around her body. “This can’t be happening.”

He motioned toward the bathroom. “Put some clothes on, for Christ’s sake. This is already bad enough.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Go in the bathroom,” he demanded.

“You go in the bathroom,” she countered, clutching the sheet in her palms.

“Love.”

“What?”

He stalked toward her and she retreated until the back of her knees hit a chair. Overcorrecting, she stumbled into the seat.

Drake held out a hand and she took it and let him pull her to her feet. Then she shoved him away. “Get away from me, you ass.”

He nudged her toward the en suite bathroom. “Look, get dressed. We’re never going to figure this out standing here like this.”

“I hate you,” she growled as she stomped into the bathroom. Kicking the door closed, she leaned against it. A hotel robe was hanging on a hook and she snatched it and slipped it on. Once she secured the tie, she whipped the door open and stormed back into the bedroom toward a now clothed Drake.

His back was to her and he was murmuring curses to himself. She jumped on his back and wrapped an arm around his neck. “You took advantage of me.” With her other hand, she yanked his hair.

He fumbled with her weight and they both crashed down on the mattress. She flailed her arms and kicked at him until he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed.

“Calm down,” he pleaded. “Stop trying to fight me.” The vein on the side of his temple jumped and his biceps bunched as he held her arms above her head.

Love was angry, but she was something else, too. Something that she’d never felt before. Well, tried to never feel before. His hard chest pressed against her soft one made it kind of difficult not to feel aroused.

“Get off of me, Drake.” Needing to put some distance between them—because the last thing she needed was to be aroused—she bucked against him.

“Love, would you just...” He sighed, his hooded bedroom eyes boring into hers. Bedroom eyes? Her stomach fluttered and a warmth spread over her. She cursed her body for responding in ways she wouldn’t dare admit.

Is he doing this on purpose? His eyes stayed on hers, seeming to look straight into her soul. Maybe he wasn’t trying to turn her on, but he was.

“Promise me.” His husky voice seemed to light a fire in her belly. “If I let you go you have to keep your hands to yourself.”

“You took advantage of me,” she muttered, her voice shaky. The anger she felt was melting under his gaze. Unclenching her fists, she let the tension ooze out of her arms. She chewed on her bottom lip. His breath fanned across her mouth and she couldn’t help but entertain the idea of letting him take advantage of her.

“We don’t know that,” he said, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Neither of us remembers last night. You can’t say for sure that we did anything but sleep.”

“But we were naked,” she murmured. Why am I whispering?

He squeezed her wrists. “Stop saying that. Let’s concentrate on the present.”

“Well, get your naked chest off of me and I’ll try.”

He jumped up, leaving her splayed across the bed, angry with her body for betraying her and with her mind for its wayward thoughts. She glared at the textured ceiling and prayed for a time machine that could zap her into yesterday, where Drake was merely annoying—not annoyingly sexy. Would she ever be able to look at him as the friend he was without thinking about his mussed hair and lean physique? Let alone the fine line of hair that trailed down his stomach and disappeared under the waistband of the low-riding sweatpants he’d donned. She tightened the belt on the robe and sat up, smoothing her hair back.

“What do you remember?” he asked, in the tone he often used on his patients. Detached.

Obviously, he wasn’t as affected as she was. Ouch. She cleared her throat. “Lana called. One of my patients went into labor and was admitted to the hospital, possible peripartum cardiomyopathy,” she answered, as if she was reporting to her chief resident during rounds. “Instead of paging me, she had paged Blake. The mother insisted on a natural birth, but her heart couldn’t take the labor. She died. I was upset that I wasn’t there, so you took me out to get my mind off of it.”

He lifted his eyes toward the ceiling and muttered a string of curses. “I keep replaying last night over and over in my head. I can’t remember how we got in bed. I remember the bar, the shots. You were finally loosening up. When we left Caesars, you were tipsy, so I had to kind of hold on to you. I can see us laughing at random people on the way back to the room. Then we ran into a few of our high school classmates. They asked us to go out with them, but you didn’t want to, so we headed back here. Then...” He averted his gaze, swallowed roughly.

She bowed her head and wondered what he’d just remembered. They were friends. Best friends, in fact. They’d grown up finishing each other’s sentences. Love knew all of Drake’s “tells” and was certain he’d just filled in some blanks.

“The bar and walk I remember,” she croaked. “That’s about it.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. She’d been very inebriated, inconsolable over the loss of her patient. Drake had done what he always did—make it better, help her forget.

“Hopefully, it’ll come back to us later. For now, we can’t assume anything happened.”

They’d shared the same bed many times during their lifelong friendship, and nothing had ever happened. Not even an accidental brush of arms. Hell, he’d seen her in her underwear plenty of times. But...

“We were still clearly on our own sides of the bed,” he continued, without meeting her gaze. “There’s no clue—”

“I feel sore,” she blurted out. “My whole body does.”

“You were drunk. You could’ve fallen or something.”

Love wondered when Drake had turned into Mr. Positivity. The proof was staring them right in the face. The bed. She scanned the rest of the room before zeroing in on the bed again. Frowning, she walked closer to it and ran a finger over the tiny bright red spot. Closing her eyes, she gasped. “Oh, my God!”

“Stop saying that,” he said, between clenched teeth.

“It’s blood. There’s your clue. We had sex.”

“Love, you’re not a virgin. The blood is probably from a paper cut or something.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

He glared at her. “Just...be quiet. Let me think.”

“You know we had sex,” she muttered under her breath. And the worst part? She didn’t remember the details. If she was going to participate in something that would more than likely ruin her friendship with Drake, she would’ve liked to remember it.

Chapter 2

Drake had a headache. And it was getting worse by the minute. He peered down at the tiny speck of blood on the stark white sheet. Shit.

The evidence was there. They’d woken up in bed together naked, she’d admitted her body was sore, and now there was visual proof. Not that he needed it. He knew exactly what had happened between them, but he couldn’t say the word out loud. The memories were coming fast and furious with each passing minute, with her standing in front of him in nothing but the hotel bathrobe.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Nothing.” He cracked his knuckles, rolled his neck and plopped down next to her. When she scooted away from him, Drake tried to tell himself that he wasn’t bothered. “We just have to deal with it. It happened.”

She twisted the tie of the robe around her fingers. “I know we have two bedrooms, but maybe you should move into a separate room for the remainder of the trip.”

He hated this. Love was his best friend. They’d spent countless hours together, shared many a hotel room and even a bed—platonically. He’d never thought anything else about it—until now. “What’s that going to prove? Apparently, we’ve already seen everything there is to see.”

“That’s not funny.”

It wasn’t; he knew that.

“What if...it happens again?” she whispered.

His eyes snapped to hers. “It won’t. I’m never drinking with you again.”

She lowered her gaze. “You don’t have to say it like that,” she mumbled.

“How am I supposed to say it?” he asked incredulously. “You’re my home girl. We’ve never done anything remotely close to this.”

“We can’t say that anymore,” she muttered under her breath.

They exchanged glances before turning away. “I guess not,” he agreed.

“I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship.”

“It won’t.” As much as he hoped it wouldn’t, the very conversation they were having indicated that it might. Theirs was a relationship of comfort as much as it was one of respect and unconditional love, not marred by the hurt feelings and expectations that often accompany a love affair. Now, he couldn’t even make eye contact with her—a fact that didn’t go unnoticed.

“You can’t even look at me, Drake.”

“Neither can you,” he retorted.

Love sighed and stood up. “Maybe I should just hop in the shower.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe you can soak in the bathtub,” he suggested. “It’ll help with the soreness.”

Without another word, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Once he heard the lock click, he fell back on the bed. As he listened to running water, he ran a hand down his face. He needed Advil and quickly.

They’d had sex. But something didn’t seem right. What had made this time different from every other time? Why would they choose this trip to get busy? The sight of Love clutching the sheet against her breasts for dear life haunted him. She was scared and teary-eyed. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping to erase the image.

He hoped the bath would relieve her anxieties. Deciding to take a shower himself, he slid off the bed and walked into the second bedroom. The Bellagio was Love’s favorite hotel in Vegas and she’d insisted on splurging on the suite. There was a separate living room and two bedrooms—one for each of them. His en suite had a steam shower and hers had a soaking whirlpool tub.

He padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower. After waiting for the steam to fill the room, he stepped in. He placed a hand on the tile and let the water beat against his back, loosening his tense muscles.

His hand massaged her back as they burrowed into the mattress. Their lips touched in the softest of kisses. She caressed his face as he suckled on her bottom lip.

Drake shook his head as if to shoo away the vivid memories, and lost his balance. When he reached out to grab the bar, he slipped on the shower floor and landed on his ass. So much for relaxation. Taking a deep breath, he sat there and rubbed the water out of his eyes.

He brushed his mouth against her chin and trailed his tongue to the hollow of her neck.

He scooted back against the shower wall, letting the water drizzle over him.

When he looked at her, he felt like he was drowning in her eyes. He felt his stomach tighten as he smoothed his hands over her thighs. She moaned and murmured her approval. He traced the band of her underwear with his thumb before he slipped a hand inside. He parted her slick folds with his finger and she purred. He thought he would explode. He loved to hear her satisfied groans. Kissing her deeply and possessively, he lowered himself on top of her.

Drake leaned his head against the tile as more memories rushed back to him.

Love wrapped her long legs around his waist and they linked fingers, gazing into each other’s eyes. He wanted her unlike anyone else. He wanted to claim her and make her his forever.

“I want you,” he whispered.

She smiled. “Have me.”

He kissed her nose, then her chin. His mouth closed around her breast and he heard her gasp. His tongue swirled around her nipple until she dug her nails into his biceps. Releasing the nipple, he kissed his way over to the other one, taking it into his mouth and giving it the same attention. Her nails scraped against his scalp as he kissed his way down to her navel.

Drake closed his eyes as his body reacted to the memory. His heart pumped with excitement.

He began to enter her, and—

“Drake!”

He jumped and immediately registered the cold water pulsing down on him. Cursing, he stood up, pushed the shower door open, and stepped out.

The knocking continued. “Drake! Can you hear me?”

“What?” he yelled.

“The concierge is here,” Lovely told him.

Swearing, he wrapped a towel around his waist and yanked the door open, practically pulling her into the bathroom.

She tried to regain her balance by grabbing him. Her hair was wet, her face flushed. Her hazelnut-colored skin was still moist. Grabbing her waist, he steadied her.

When their eyes met, she pulled back. “He’s out in the sitting area,” she said, tugging on her robe.

“Did you ask him what he wanted?” The small opening in the bathrobe gave him a glimpse of her breast and he tried not to look. Really. He didn’t want to remember taking it into his mouth. He let his eyes wander over Love’s curves. If there was a contest for best female anatomy, she’d win hands down. Her skin was flawless; her hair was like an ebony waterfall. And she was all natural—no weave, no acrylics, no color contacts and no silicone.

“Drake, did you hear what I said?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“I said he asked for you,” she told him. “Said he had something to give you.”

Adjusting his towel, he secured the knot. “Can you...?”

“Oh.” She hurried out of the bathroom, bumping into the door on the way out.

He slipped his sweatpants back on hurriedly. When he came out of the bathroom, Love was sitting on the bed, shoulders slouched. Grabbing a T-shirt, he pulled it on. He wondered if she’d remembered anything. His thoughts drifted to his roaming hands...her flat, quivering stomach...the sultry moans coming from her full lips. Shaking his head, he strode past her and into the living room.

The concierge greeted him with a wide smile. “Good morning, Dr. Jackson. I trust you had a wonderful night.” He shook his hand.

“What can I do for you?” Drake asked.

Love appeared in the doorway. She folded her arms across her robe and leaned against the frame.

Drake shifted his attention away from her and back to the concierge, who was eyeing Love with interest. Drake cleared his throat. “How can I help you?”

The short man coughed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t,” Drake told him.

“I just thought you might like this,” he said, holding out a small box.

Drake grabbed the box and examined it. “What’s this?”

The concierge laughed. “Very funny, Dr. Jackson.” He patted him on his shoulder. “We rushed this up as soon as it was sized.”

Opening the box, Drake gaped at the huge diamond ring. “Why did you bring me this?”

The man shifted. “You ordered it, Dr. Jackson. Last night.”

His headache suddenly grew worse. “I didn’t order this.”

“You and the missus were in the hotel store and you purchased it.”

Drake pretended he didn’t hear Love’s gasp or feel her body leaning up against his back as she gawked at the ring in his hand. “The missus? What the hell are you talking about? I’m not married.”

“Uh, sir, you and your wife approached the front desk attendant and asked to purchase the ring from the hotel jewelry store.” The man motioned to Love. “It was around three o’clock this morning. You told him you were on your way to your wedding.”

“My what?” Drake bellowed, struggling to remember that part of the evening. “This has to be a mistake. I’m not married. And what kind of jewelry store is open at three o’clock in the morning?”

“W-well, you insisted,” the concierge stuttered. “Your wife spotted the ring in the display case. You paid for it with your credit card and she gave us her ring size. Trust me, it was a legitimate transaction.”

Advil. Better yet, Vicodin. He sat on the edge of the couch and pinched his forehead. Could this day get any worse? It wasn’t enough that he had made love to his best friend and remembered only bits of it. Obviously, there was more to last night than sex.

“Are you sure, sir?” Love asked. “Maybe someone stole Drake’s wallet and used his credit card to purchase this ring?”

The concierge sucked in a deep breath. “Ma’am, perhaps the problem was too many drinks?”

Drake flew to his feet, twisted the man’s lapels in his fists and pulled him closer—nose to nose. “Watch your mouth. Perhaps you got the situation wrong.” He let him go, shoving him back a bit.

After straightening his tie, the concierge smoothed a hand over his suit coat. “I’m sorry, Dr. Jackson. But you purchased the ring. I’m sure we can pull up the security cameras.” He drew an envelope out of his inside pocket. “And this was sent over via courier this morning.”

Drake snatched the envelope and ripped it open. Love rested a hand on his arm and he glanced at her. She was stunning, and she smelled like warm vanilla. Forcing his gaze away, he pulled the thick paper out and scanned it. Sighing, he handed it to her.

“Oh, my God!”

Drake rolled his eyes. “You said this was around three?” he asked the concierge.

He nodded. “Yes, according to Bill, the manager in charge. By the way, I wanted to come here in person to let you know that we’ve upgraded you to the honeymoon suite.”

“This can’t be happening,” Love mumbled.

“Honeymoon suite?” Drake asked.

“Yes. To show our appreciation for your business.”

Running his hand through his hair, Drake told him, “I don’t need to switch rooms.”

“We’ve already made the arrangements,” the concierge insisted. “A bellboy will be here shortly to collect your things and transfer them to your new accommodations.”

“This is Vegas.” Drake crossed his arms over his chest. “People get married here all the time. Why upgrade us?”

“Well, after the amount you spent in our hotel store, it’s our pleasure.”

Drake didn’t want to ask the question, but he had to. “How much is the ring?” he groaned.

“This is an original design, worth more than the price you paid.”

“How much?” he repeated.

“We agreed on a discounted price of $15,000.”

Love let out a colorful curse, then covered her mouth.

“Fifteen thousand?” Drake roared. “Are you crazy? They knew we were drinking and they still let me pay that much money for a ring?”

“Like I said, sir, you insisted,” the man responded.

“Thank you,” Love told the concierge. “We appreciate your hospitality. Can you leave us alone for now? We need a moment.” She walked him toward the door. More like pushed him. “And we appreciate the gesture, but the honeymoon suite is not necessary.”

“Certainly, Mrs. Jackson,” the man said, with a wide smile. “Please let us know if you change your mind.”

“We will,” she assured him. “Thank you again. Have a good day.”

“I will and—”

She closed the door before the man could finish his sentence.

Drake clutched the ring box in his hand. “I spent $15,000 on a ring, Love.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “Drake, we’ll figure this out. We’ll find the receipt and try to return it.”

“Good luck with that. They sold it at a discount. It was probably a final sale.”

“We have to find your wallet,” she said, hurrying into her suite bedroom.

He followed her. She picked a pair of discarded pants off the floor and shoved her hands into the pockets. He checked his coat and discovered his wallet was there. He opened it, leafed through the receipts and found nothing. “It’s not here. I’m screwed,” he said, dropping the wallet on the dresser.

She propped her hands on his shoulders. “Drake, we got married. We don’t remember our wedding. We had sex, after almost thirty years of innocent friendship. Screwed is an understatement. But all is not lost, because we still have our brains. So I say we go find the—” she glanced at the wedding certificate “—Hunk O’ Burning Love Wedding Chapel and try to get this thing annulled. Then we can check with the jewelry store.”

Love grabbed an outfit and disappeared into the bathroom.

“Okay, Mrs. Chipper, what if this can’t be fixed?”

She emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing a pair of capri pants and a tank top. “I’m not dealing with that right now. The worst has to be over.”

Another knock sounded, and they heard a familiar voice from the other side say, “Lovely, open the door.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God.”

He shook his head. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s not over—not by a long shot.”

Chapter 3

“Don’t answer that.” Love wrapped a hand around Drake’s arm. The constant knocking was getting to her, but she could handle it. “Maybe she’ll go away.”

“Have you met your mother?” Drake asked.

“She can’t come in here.” Gloria Helen Washington was the last person Love needed to see today. “She’ll know what happened.”

“How? We’re both fully dressed.” He peeled her hand off him. “Just act normal.” He hurried to the door and opened it.

Gloria breezed into the room. “Lovely Grace Washington, what is your problem? What took you so long to answer the door?”

Love rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. As if naming her Lovely wasn’t bad enough, her mother had added Grace to it. As soon as she was old enough, she’d insisted everyone call her Love. “What is it, Mother? You know it’s early.”

Love knew she hated to be called “Mother.” Gloria wasn’t your average stay-at-home mom. As a child, Love could be found chanting during a windstorm watch, and running around in a bright bandanna and a tie-dyed T-shirt. Yes, her mother was a hippie and damn proud of it. Even in her sixties, Gloria still had a carefree way about her. Her gray curls were wild and free, and she wore loose-fitting, flowing clothes at all times. Her mother thought the world would be a better place if everyone embraced love, hence the name.

Growing up had been pretty traumatic for the straitlaced Love. She was the only black kid in the neighborhood who wore sandals in the winter and listened to Jimi Hendrix. Instead of Ring Pops or Now & Laters, Love was forced to munch on celery sticks and snap peas. No hopscotch or Foursquare for her. Gloria thought it best that she recited poetry in the park. And Love hated poetry. Yet, even though they clashed often, Love adored her mother. And she was proud of the independent woman she’d become after the divorce. Her mother went from doting on her husband to owning one of Vegas’ premier flower shops. Gloria was famous for her floral creations.

Her mother pulled her into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you, my baby girl. The rest of the family should arrive sometime this afternoon. Thank you for gracing us with your presence this year. You know, it’s been years since you’ve attended. Everyone always asks about you.”

The rest of her family was as colorful as her mother, which often caused a problem for the Love. For years, the Nelson family gathered on her grandmother’s birthday in March for a family reunion. Each year, the reunion alternated between several states to give each leg of the family a chance to plan it. Love had managed to avoid the last several due to school and work, but since the reunion was back in her childhood hometown, her mother had threatened to haunt her in life and death if she didn’t attend.

Her mother had obsessed about this reunion for over a year, since she was the only member of the family that lived in Las Vegas. The hosting family always stayed at the hotel with everyone else, and Gloria needed Love’s assistance to help make the reunion a success.

“Like I had a choice,” Love grumbled, wrenching herself out of her mother’s arms.

“Don’t get smart.” Gloria smoothed her hair back and grinned at Drake. “Hello, Drake. I’m so glad you’re here.” She embraced him.

“Good to see you, too, Mom,” Drake said.

Love’s best friend had called Gloria that for as long as she could remember. Drake and Gloria had a loving relationship and Love often found herself on the outside looking in at the two of them. They shared the same taste in food and television, preferring big steaks and fried potatoes with their zombie and sci-fi shows.

“You’re looking handsome as ever, son.”

“Mother,” Love said, cutting in, “I know you want to talk about the reunion, but I have to make a few runs. Then I wanted to visit with friends.”

Peering up the ceiling, Love let out a long sigh. She hated lying to her mother. Love was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. She lacked the ability to make it convincing, even though she’d tried to perfect the skill growing up. Although she had made plans to visit with her friends, she had no intention of doing so now. She had business to take care of, a marriage to annul.

“Love, this is family time.” Gloria picked at her daughter’s hair with a frown on her face. “Why did you straighten your beautiful curls?”

Love pushed her hands away. “My hair is fine. And I promised them I’d stop by. The last time I came home to visit, I wasn’t able to spend any time with my friends.”

Gloria dropped her purse on a chair and scanned the room. “This is nice,” she said, as if she couldn’t care less what Love wanted to do. “Listen, a couple of your cousins really wanted to come but they couldn’t afford a hotel. I figure they can sleep in this big ole room with you.”

“No,” Love said. “That’s not possible. Drake is my roommate. The second bedroom is his.”

“I can get my own room,” Drake offered.

Love glared at him. “Mother, how about I catch the next flight back to Michigan, and they can have this room? Or better yet, I can go stay at your house.”

Gloria lived in the Las Vegas suburb of Summerlin South. It was just fifteen miles from downtown. The house held many fond memories for Love and she’d love to get away and sleep in her old room for the night.

“That’s not a good idea,” Gloria said. “You need to stay and be in the thick of things, with me.”

“It’s actually okay. I figure I can spend some time in my childhood home, prepare the house for the cookout you want to have there on Sunday.” Love scratched her neck and tried to ignore the skeptical look on Drake’s face. He must have caught the sarcasm.

“Okay,” he said, elbowing her. “I’ll book a room for them. My treat.”

“Thank you, Drake,” Gloria gushed. “I just love you.”

“So it’s settled, Mother.” Love picked up her mother’s purse and handed it to her. “I have to finish getting ready now. I have so much to do.”

“Wait, I wanted to ask you something. I’m planning a visit to Ann Arbor in a few weeks. Do you have room for your dear old mother?”

Love adored her mother. She really did. But Gloria Washington was a professional nagger. The last time her mom had stayed with her she’d rearranged everything, put all her canned goods in the recycle bin, threw away her favorite socks and insisted Love eat those nasty breakfast bars filled with millet grains.

“Uh...w-well,” she stammered, “I would’ve said it was no problem, but I...it would be awkward.”

“Why?”

That one word was enough to make Love hyperventilate. Briefly, she wondered if her mother would accept it if she answered the question with a whopping “because I said so.” Or better yet, a big fat “nunya.”

“Why, Lovely?” Gloria asked again. “You have a huge three-bedroom condo you’re renting all by yourself. Why would it be awkward? Unless you lied to your mother about living alone?”

Love hated when her mom referred to herself in the third person. She struggled to find a suitable excuse. “I meant to tell you sooner. I don’t live alone anymore.”

“A roommate?”

“Kind of,” Love lied. Again. She pressed a hand to her stomach, uncertain why she felt the need to tell her mother she had a roommate. I have to throw up. “The economy is rough. I figured it would help.”

Gloria’s eyes flitted back and forth between Love and Drake. Finally, she placed a hand on her hip. “When did you start lying to your mother, Lovely?”

Damn. Caught already? “Why do you say that?”

“You hate living with anyone. You wouldn’t even let Drake move in.”

Love shifted her attention to Drake, who was watching her with a smirk on his face. Although he was her best friend, she had turned him down when he’d asked to stay with her while he found a place. Instead, she’d suggested that he book a suite at the Marriott closest to the University of Michigan Hospital, where they were both residents. He was pissed, and didn’t hesitate to tell her. Love had assured him it was the best thing for their friendship. She adored him, but there was no way she could live with him. Drake was your typical smelly, messy and loud man. Not to mention a man-whore.

“Mother,” Love said. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but...” She stalled, running a list of possible roommates in her mind. “Drake is my roommate.”

He gaped at her.

The room was silent for a few minutes as both of them absorbed this news.

“Drake?” Gloria asked. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s the truth. But I can’t really talk about this now. I told you I have plans.”

“No, I want an explanation. If Drake is your roommate, you’ll never find a man who wants to marry you.”

Drake snorted and Love smacked his shoulder.

“When did this end up being about marriage?” she asked her mother. “Wait...don’t answer that.” It seemed as though these days, every conversation between them contained a reference to the M word. “Please, Mother. I promise we’ll spend lots of time together. Later. I’ll answer all of your questions then.” She hugged her. “Love you.”

Gloria stomped to the door. “Okay, Lovely. Take care of your business. But we are going to talk about this. And since Drake is your roommate, he won’t care if I stay there for a few days. Right, Drake?”

He shrugged. “Sure,” he said drily.

Love opened the door to let her out, only to find the concierge on the other side, preparing to knock.

“Mrs. J—”

“Hi!” Love said. “Did you need something?”

“I forgot to give you the receipt from the jewelry store.”

She snatched it from him. “Okay, thanks. Bye.”

“Who is that?” Gloria asked, shoving her out of the way.

“Mom,” Drake interrupted, pulling her from the door. “It’s just the concierge. I purchased something and he was bringing the receipt. Thanks again.” He pushed the door closed, but the concierge stopped it with his toe.

“One more thing, Dr. Jackson. Just a reminder—this is a final sale.”

Love sighed.

Drake muttered a curse. “Fine.”

“Thanks for your business, Dr. Jackson. And congratulations again.” He turned to walk away and Love let out a sigh of relief—until he glanced back at them over his shoulder. “Please let us know if you choose to take us up on the offer of using the honeymoon suite.”

“Honeymoon suite?” Gloria repeated.

“Yes,” the man said, tugging at the lapels of his suit as he lifted his chin. “We here at the Bellagio love to cater to our important guests. Nothing more important than a wedding.”

“Whose wedding?”

“Do something,” Love mouthed to Drake.

“Mom, how about we go get breakfast?” he said, nudging Gloria away from the concierge. “I’m starved.”

“Wait a minute,” she exclaimed, digging in her heels. “Who got married?”

“Why, they did,” the chubby man replied with a toothy grin. “They visited our jewelry store to purchase the ring.”

“Oh, my God.” Love leaned her forehead against the wall.

Gloria turned to them. Tears welled in her eyes, and she fainted.

Chapter 4

Drake watched as Gloria’s eyes rolled back in her head.

“Mother!” Love called. But it was too late.

Gloria fell like a heavy tree and nearly slipped through Drake’s arms, but he was able to catch her. Grunting, he carried her to the couch. “Get my bag, Love,” he ordered.

She sprinted into the bedroom, came back with his medical bag and dropped it on the floor next to him.

The concierge had followed them into the room. Drake glared at him. “You can go now. I’ll handle this.”

“Maybe I should call an ambulance?” he suggested.

“No, she should be fine. Like I said, I’ve got this. I’ll call if we need anything.”

The concierge glanced at Love. When she nodded, he left the room without another word.

Drake assessed Gloria, checking her airway and pulse, while Love propped her legs up on a pillow. Her pulse was strong. “Mom, can you hear me?”

Gloria moaned softly. “Lovely...”

Love knelt in front of her and picked up her hand. “Mom, I’m here.”

Gloria’s eyes fluttered open. Drake let out a quick sigh of relief. Gloria was many things, but mostly she was as much his mother as she was Love’s. Gloria had been the only motherly figure he’d had, since he hadn’t known his real mother. She had stepped in and filled the gap. Drake had never gotten along with his stepmother, and he’d been grateful that he’d had someone in his life who had supported him through everything.

“Mom, are you okay?” Love’s voice pulled him back to the present. “You fainted. Have you been taking your medication? Your insulin? Did you eat this morning?”

Gloria was a diabetic. Over the last few years, she’d had several complications as a result of her illness that had required Love to fly out to Vegas and take care of her. The most recent hospital stay was only a few months ago, and Gloria’s doctors had suggested amputation due to lack of blood flow to her legs and feet.

Love had recently told him that she’d been trying to convince her mother to get a second opinion at University of Michigan Hospital, but her mother had declined. Drake knew it bothered Love that her mother lived so far away and seemed to be getting worse.

Drake poured a glass of water and handed it to Gloria, who took a sip.

“I’ll be okay, baby.” The older woman struggled to sit up. Eventually, she simply leaned on her elbows. “Baby, please tell me...”

Love peered at Drake. “Mom, don’t think about anything right now. You need to lie back. No sudden movements.”

Gloria shook her head and finally sat upright. “I told you I’ll be okay.” She smacked Love’s hand away when she tried to keep her from rising to her feet. “You need to tell me what’s going on. And, Drake, if you don’t tell me the truth, I’m calling your father.”

The threat of his dad knowing anything that was going on in his personal life was enough to give Drake pause. Gloria had used that threat often on him, growing up. It was the only thing he’d ever responded to. Simply put, he couldn’t stand his dad. Life with him had been one disappointment after another. The safe haven that Love and her family had provided had saved him.

Dr. Lawrence Jackson, plastic surgeon extraordinaire, had always been too busy working and having affairs with random women to even care what Drake did in his personal life. What the man cared about was that Drake was surgical resident, studying to take over his own thriving practice. Except Drake never intended to become his father. In fact, he’d worked tirelessly to distance himself from the man who drove him insane with his demands and unrealistic expectations. Instead of plastic surgery, he’d chosen cardiothoracic surgery as his focus, much to his father’s chagrin.

The only thing he’d loved about living at home was his siblings—two brothers, one sister and his uncle El, who was like a brother.

The last thing Drake wanted was his father involved in the mess he’d gotten himself into. No doubt there would be a long lecture that would end in him cursing his dad out and Love urging him to apologize out of respect.

“Mother, please.” Love stood and straightened her clothes. “It’s not what you think. That man doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Drake cleared his throat. “Mom, you fainted. You need to relax a bit.”

“I’ll relax when both of you explain to me how you came to Vegas, got married and didn’t tell me.”

Gloria’s sudden high-pitched screech caught him off guard, and he jumped.

“Why are you screaming?” Love covered her ears.

“Because!” She stood finally, pulled them both into a tight hug, and kissed Drake’s cheek. “This is so exciting. Why didn’t you tell me? You should have let me know.”

There was something about her tone that made him a little suspicious.

Love pulled out of the group hug. “Mom, you don’t understand. It—”

Gloria gasped. “We can have a small reception. Yeah. We can do it in June. That will give me enough time.” She sat back down on the sofa, then rifled through her purse and pulled out her phone. “June 10 is perfect. Oh my, I have to get out of here. I have to tell your father, Love.”

Threatening to tell his father was one thing, but there was no way Love’s father could know what had happened. He was, after all, Drake’s boss.

Drake nudged Love. “Do something.”

She stood there, her mouth hanging open.

“Give us a minute, Mom.” Drake pulled Love into her bedroom and slammed the door. “Love, say something to your mother before she tells the whole free world,” he demanded through clenched teeth. “She threatened to tell my father. And did you just hear that she’s going to tell your father? He’ll hop the next flight, then he’ll kick my ass before he fires me.”

Love tugged at his shirt. “We have to do something.”

Drake muttered a curse. “Ya think? We need a game plan. First, you need to get your mother.”

“Now she’s my mother. You need to handle this, since you’re her favorite.”

He threw his arms in the air. “Please, Love. The man came in here with the receipt for the ring, and told her that we’re married because our drunk asses actually did that last night. The sooner you get that through your head, the sooner we’ll be able to figure out what we’re going to do to fix this.”

She placed her palm over his mouth. “Shh, you’re getting too loud. She’ll hear you.”

He counted to ten and took a long, deep breath. “Do you understand why I’m a little concerned right now?” he asked, when she removed her hand.

“Of course I do. But we don’t know the circumstances,” Love argued. “We don’t even know if this certificate is legal. And if we really are married, we won’t be after today.”

Drake grabbed her shoulders. “That’s all fine and good, but before we figure that out, we need to get your mother under control. And that means coming up with an explanation for the concierge’s visit. She’s not going to buy one of your crazy, nonsensical lies.”

Gloria’s loud laugh carried through the door.

He pointed in that direction and frowned. “Is she on the phone?”

Love bolted out of the bedroom and snatched her mother’s cell out of her hand. Ending the call with a quick “Sorry, gotta go,” she handed the device to Drake. “Mom, who were you talking to?”

“Your aunt. I was just getting ready to tell her about your happy news. She’s going to be so excited.”

Drake wrapped an arm around Gloria and steered her over to the couch. “Mom, I understand it was a lot to take in at once. But you’ve got this all wrong.”

Her smile faded. “Care to explain?”

He glanced at Gloria. “Yes, you deserve an explanation.”

“Aren’t you happy that you married my daughter?” Gloria asked, concern evident in her brown eyes.

Drake was torn. The question was a double-edged sword, and any answer he’d give would be bad, in her opinion. He’d always been truthful with Gloria, but he couldn’t be now. If he told her the truth—which wasn’t an option—he’d be admitting that he’d married her daughter in a drunken state, in a cheesy Las Vegas wedding chapel, and he wasn’t happy about it. If he said yes, the response would send her on a rocket to heaven and it would take a miracle to bring her down. There had to be a middle ground. He glanced up at Love, who was staring at the floor. No help.

A knock sounded and drew their attention to the door. Drake hoped it wasn’t that damn concierge returning to make matters worse. He stood and followed Love across the room.

She glared at him before she pulled the door open. In front of them, on his knees, with a ring in hand was Love’s ex-boyfriend.

* * *

Oh, my God!

Love swallowed at the sight of the jerk who’d broken her heart, and the gorgeous ring in his hand.

“Love, you’re beautiful.” Derrick flashed a dimpled smile. “I couldn’t let another day go by without telling you how I feel. I love you. I want to marry you. I want us to have forever.”

Love was speechless. She’d dreamed of such a proposal from Derrick Harper when they were together—over a year ago. He was successful, cultured and handsome. He was everything she’d thought she wanted. The life he could offer her was appealing on some level. But the pain that he’d left in his wake still stung. The horrible breakup had devastated her, and she’d gone out of her way to avoid him. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since. And now he was proposing? She couldn’t believe this was happening.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Drake asked incredulously.

Derrick rose to his feet. The smile he’d been sporting a few seconds earlier turned into a sneer. “Drake. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re here.”

“Answer the question.” Drake’s voice was a low growl, and Love knew that this confrontation could turn physical. Drake had never cared for Derrick. The way Derrick broke up with her—with a text—had made Drake’s disdain grow by leaps and bounds.

“Derrick?” Gloria stepped between Drake and Love. “You’re here.”

Love frowned at her. It wasn’t a question, and there was no hint of surprise in her mother’s tone.

“How did you know I was here?” Love asked him, knowing the answer already.

“You didn’t tell her I was coming?” Derrick asked Gloria.

She averted her gaze as a blush crept up her neck to her ears. She pushed a strand of her gray hair behind her ears. “I didn’t. But you can leave.”

Derrick narrowed his eyes. “What? We talked about this. I flew all the way here.”

“Mother, how could you?” Love felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t. Your father called and asked for the details of the family reunion. He told me that Derrick wanted to win you back, because he realized he made a mistake letting you go. I’m sorry, Lovely. I should have told you, but I thought I was helping you.”

Love couldn’t stop the snort that escaped. “Help? You encouraged a man who broke my heart to come to my family reunion and propose? Mother, do you realize that he broke up with me with a text message, after he cheated on me with his colleague for months? That means I wasn’t worth more than a few characters.”

She felt Drake’s hand on her shoulder. The soft squeeze that came next soothed her frayed nerves, and she shot him a grateful glance out of the corner of her eye.

“I’ve got this,” he whispered in her ear. “Harper, you’re out of order. For you to show up, after a year, and expect her to fall into your arms and accept that whack proposal, you must be crazy. It’s obvious to me that you don’t think much of Love.”

“How is this your problem?” Derrick asked, his dark eyes icy.

“Love is my problem. When you don’t respect her, I have a problem with it. You’ve already hurt her enough. I’m not going to stand here and let you try to insert yourself back into her life so you can do it again.”

“Drake.” Love squeezed his arm. “I’m okay.”

He looked down at her, his eyes soft. He shook his head slightly before turning a hard glare back to Derrick. “Get out. Go home. Don’t call her again.”

Derrick snickered. “Why don’t you let Love talk?”

Drake stepped closer to him, nose to nose. “Don’t let the fact that I’m a surgical resident make you think that you won’t see these hands.”

Gloria spoke up. “Derrick, you need to go. It’s too late, anyway. Drake and Lovely are—”

“Mother, stay of this,” Love snapped. The way her mom had reacted to the news of the marriage hadn’t been a shock. Gloria had always shipped a potential Love and Drake union, and she was itching to tell anyone that the two of them were married. Love couldn’t let that happen. So far, they had managed to not outright admit it to her, but they hadn’t fully denied it, either.

Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the two men in front of her ready to go to blows any minute. “Derrick, you need to leave. You’re not welcome in my life anymore.”

“I don’t believe you.” He held up the ring. “You know we belong together. It just took me longer to realize it. I was stupid, full of myself. Then I realized that you were everything to me. I want to marry you.”

“I can’t do this,” Love said, pulling Drake back out of the doorway. “I’m done.” Without another word, she slammed the door in Derrick’s face.

Drake barked out a laugh. “That was good. I’m proud of you.”

“Lovely, I’m sorry.” Gloria pulled her into a hug. “I’m so sorry. I should have never listened to your father. Why didn’t you just tell Derrick that you and Drake were together?”

Sighing, Love backed away from her mother’s embrace. “Mother, I need a minute. I’m upset and I need to talk to Drake. Alone.”

Gloria’s shoulders fell. “Fine. I’ll go.” She gathered her purse and headed toward the door. “I’ll see you at the dinner tonight, right?”

Love turned away from her hopeful stare, and nodded. “I’ll be there. And, Mom, please don’t say a word to anyone about what the concierge said.” She didn’t give Gloria a chance to answer, but simply walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

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