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He checked his watch, a frustrated groan escaping. Shit. He was going to be late. The things he did for family—or soon-to-be family.

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He reached for the pie sitting on the passenger seat and muttered a curse when his hand slipped and poked a hole in the tinfoil. Well, whatever. The contents inside would disappear within the hour, so what difference did it make if he ruined the wrapping.

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Gabe had only meant to drop off his brother, Emmett’s, jacket he had borrowed on Halloween three days ago. It had started raining toward the end of the night, and Emmett offered it. By the motherly look coming from Deja, his wife, arguing seemed futile. Who cared if he got a little wet?

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Of course, after he dropped it off today, setting it on the porch swing with a quick text to Emmett, he was forced to stop and talk with Penelope when she waved hi. Being rude to his future sister-in-law wouldn’t be wise. She was engaged to his other brother, Ethan. It was strange how Penelope had ended up buying the house next to Emmett’s and Deja’s without even knowing. Now that she and Ethan were back together, it worked out perfectly.

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After chatting for a few minutes—minutes he didn’t have to spare—she had given him the sweetest puppy dog eyes known on the planet and asked if he’d drop off a pie for Ethan.

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A pie.

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For his brother.

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He felt left out and jealous because he didn’t have anyone to make him a pie. Even Deja baked Emmett pies on occasion, despite not being much of a baker. It was the thought that counted.

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The McCord men were known for their love of pie; even his cousins, Zane and Austin, wouldn’t say no to a piece. If Gabe had to pick his favorite, he’d go with triple berry. So holding a cherry pie—now with a hole in the top, enticing him with the wonderful aroma—was killing him because it was damn close to what he loved.

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If he didn’t move his butt, he’d be late to the ten o’clock meeting he had with an important client. Being a lawyer in a small town wasn’t as exciting as some people might think. He generally handled wills and closings on real estate sales. Mr. Dougherty was well known in town. Owned the local hardware store along with the butchery and owned half of the pharmacy with his son and daughter. Most people liked him—when he was having a good day. Lately, he’d been having more bad days than good. He could be surly and difficult to deal with. Gabe could only thank his lucky stars the man had been in a good mood when he called to schedule a meeting to change his will. If he was late, that oh-so-good mood would turn sour, and that was the last thing Gabe wanted. Gabe also found it odd he wanted to talk about his will. The last he heard, there wasn’t any friction between him and his two kids. Well, he’d find out soon enough, if Mr. Dougherty chose to give him a reason. He had no obligation to do so.

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He put an extra pep in his step as he headed for the door to the firehouse. Ethan had left early in the morning for the start of his twenty-four-hour shift. Instead of asking Penelope why she didn’t make this dumb pie the night before, knowing Ethan had to work, he kindly took the pie off her hands and went on his way. Confrontation wasn’t his thing, and he was running late.

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“Hey, Gene, how’s it going? Ethan around?” Gabe called out to a co-worker of Ethan’s as he stepped inside the brightly lit firehouse.

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The trucks were parked in a row, gleaming and ready to roll. It was quiet in the area, making Gabe think most people were upstairs.

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“Yeah, he’s upstairs finagling with Chase about who’s making the chili tonight. Personally, I don’t care because they both make it with such finesse. I can never get the flavors right.”

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Gabe nodded with a smile as if he cared. He just wanted to drop the pie off and get going. He’d be lucky if he made it with a minute to spare.

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Gene’s eyes glided to the container in his hand.

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“Is that pie? Cherry pie?”

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Gabe chuckled. “You touch it and Ethan will cut off your hand.”

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“It’ll be worth it.”

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“Well, it’s your hand, not mine.” Gabe thrust it toward him. “Do you mind running it up to him? I’m running late.”

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“Yeah, sure.” By the crafty smile that warped onto Gene’s face, it said he was willing to risk Ethan’s wrath at touching his pie as he took it from Gabe’s hand. “I got this. Check you later, Gabe.”

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“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

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They both turned to head their separate ways.

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Gabe grunted in pain as he ran right into someone—someone wearing very deadly high heels as it dug deeply into his foot.

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“Oh, excuse me. I am so sorry.”

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She sounded sincere, yet he took a moment, bending his head and closing his eyes. He needed to get his breath back from the pain circling his foot after she stepped off it.

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A breath released.

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He opened his eyes. His head lifted, and his jaw dropped.

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A sharp gasp slipped from her lips.

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No.

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It couldn’t be.

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No way.

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It wasn’t possible.

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Brilliant-green eyes shimmered at him with shock. Long auburn hair dangled beautifully on her shoulders in subtle waves. She wore a black business suit that fit her figure—what he could see with her winter jacket unzipped—and lethal red high heels that he knew he didn’t want touching his foot again. The light-tan coat she wore hung open, and a pair of white mittens peeked out of the left side pocket.

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His wife was more beautiful than he remembered.

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She changed her hair color. From a beautiful strawberry-blonde to a soft-red color. It might’ve been nine months since he’d last seen her, but he would never forget her face. It was ingrained in his mind. Waking up next to someone you didn’t know did that to a person. It etched the memory as if grinding it into stone.

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Confrontation was definitely not his forte. Eyeing a gorgeous woman naked next to him—not remembering how that happened—he figured fleeing to the bathroom was the smarter move so he could collect his thoughts. And it had been smart until he got out and realized she fled herself.

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It wouldn’t have been a big deal, but then he came across the marriage license and knew he had found the worst kind of trouble one could find when in Vegas. Unfortunately, that day, he knew the saying ‘what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’ didn’t apply to him.

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A few months back, he had paid a private investigator to find this woman so he could get a divorce. Although the man had come up empty everywhere he looked. Now, here she stood, right in front of him. How had she found him and he hadn’t been able to find her?

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He opened his mouth to say something, yet nothing came out.

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Words did not mix well with him. It baffled him how he managed to get such a gorgeous woman in his bed—hell, a ring on her finger. Since that fateful day, he had barely had anything to drink. He didn’t need another random wife on his hands because he couldn’t control his liquor.

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“Yo, Gabey, I thought you left. Let me guess, you wanted a piece of pie, too. Damn jokers are up there trying to eat all of my pie.”

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Gabe whipped around to Ethan, cursing silently when Ethan cocked a brow and narrowed his eyes as if trying to decode the panic on his face. He knew he had to look like he’d seen a ghost. Wide eyes, pale features, speechless.

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“Pie?”

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Ethan cocked a brow. “Yeah, pie.” Then he smiled at the woman behind him. “Hello. I’m Ethan. Is my brother being weird?”

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“No.”

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His cheeks burned, yet he didn’t say anything as he turned back toward her and the beautiful, melodic sound of her voice. Her eyes darted at him, then to Ethan.

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“I’m looking for Fire Chief Peterson. I’m Olivia Brenson.”

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Ethan’s brows rose. “The arson investigator.”

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Gabe shot another glance at her.

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Wow. She wasn’t here looking for him. Why did the thought pierce his heart, as painful as when she stomped on his foot?

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“Yes.”

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She didn’t add more, nor did her gaze land on him. Why wouldn’t she look at him?

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“He isn’t here right now. He should be in soon.” Ethan clapped him on the back, jarring him some. “Want some pie, bro?” Ethan looked at her. “You’re welcome to some, too. My fiancée makes the best cherry pie.”

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“No, thank you. If you’ll show me his office, I’ll wait for him there.”

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Ethan looked taken aback at her brisk manner. “Yeah, of course. Gabe?”

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“No. Umm…no, I can’t.” He glanced at his watch and stifled a groan. “I’m late for a meeting.”

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And there was no doubt he’d be late. He had stood too long, staring in shock at finally finding the woman he had married.

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Ethan started to say something when the sirens blared. “Shit. Now I can’t even have pie. Show Ms. Brenson up to the chief’s office please, Gabe.”

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Then Ethan was running off to grab his turnout gear along with his fellow firefighters. He moved to the side, trying to keep his attention on the trucks moving out of the station rather than Olivia, who stood next to him.

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Olivia.

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Such a beautiful name. Her name—like her face—was ingrained in his mind. He might’ve stared at the marriage license a little too much.

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When the last truck left, Olivia turned to him. “Well, then. The chief’s office, please.”

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“Of course.”

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He headed in the direction that would lead them upstairs to several offices, along with the break room and where everyone slept.

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His meeting would be starting in five minutes, and it would take him at least ten to get there. He was already late. Delaying any longer, especially without another update to his secretary, Karina, was asking for trouble. Yet he felt his feet dragging, his mind conjuring everything he should say to her. He’d had plenty of time to think it through as he waited for the PI to find him a scrap of evidence to locate her.

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‘Hi, we’re married. Let’s get divorced.’ ‘Wow. Crazy night uh? We got married. Let’s get divorced.’ ‘Wish I could say what happens in Vegas stays there, but…let’s get divorced.’

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He stepped to the side and tried to smile as he stopped at the chief’s office. The door was closed, but a chair was positioned right outside, presumably for visitors. Gabe wasn’t sure whether to tell her to sit and wait on the chair or inside the office. He had no idea if she would snoop—hello, married her without even remembering—so he pointed at the chair.

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“I’m sure he’ll be in soon.”

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Say something, idiot.

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Anything other than what his brother had said. Even how pretty she looks.

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“Thank you. You may go.”

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He flinched. What a way to be dismissed.

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She looked chagrined as her cheeks bloomed a light red. “You said you’re late for a meeting. You don’t need to feel obligated to wait with me.”

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“Right. Of course. Right.”

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She frowned at him.

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He wanted to smack his hand against his forehead for sounding like such a moron. When it came to women, he wasn’t the smoothest. They were foreign creatures to him. He had earned the annoying Gabe the Shy Goose nickname by his brothers for a reason.

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He hesitated.

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Then he smiled before turning around without another word. What could he say? Besides the short gasp when he first made eye contact, she hadn’t given him the impression she even remembered him. She had plenty of time to say something as they walked to the chief’s office and nothing. Not a peep about that illustrious night.

He married a woman, and she didn’t even know it.