Temptation Trails (The Haven Brothers #3)

Gingerly, I cracked my eyes open. My temples throbbed with a headache and my neck felt like I’d slept in a weird position.

Too much bourbon. Way too much bourbon.

I glanced around, my vision slowly coming into focus, and shifted with a groan. Zachary and Marigold’s house. I was on the couch in their living room.

How had I gotten there?

Oh, shit.

I’d been drunk the night before, but not so drunk that I didn’t remember. Zachary had brought me to his place and deposited my drunk ass on his couch. But that wasn’t what had me groaning again. Harper had been there.

Not only had she seen me drunk—which, honestly, wasn’t the worst thing in the world, I could admit that—but I’d told her I loved her.

I remembered every word of our conversation. How insistent I’d been that I was in love with her.

The tear that trailed down her cheek.

She didn’t believe me.

What a fucking mess.

Oh, no. Owen.

My phone was on the coffee table next to me. I fumbled for it, almost dropping it on my face, and checked my messages. I had a string of texts from Luke.

Going to your house to stay with Owen.

He’s good. Even did his homework already.

Morning, sunshine. Don’t stress, Owen got to school. He’s fine.

I let out a relieved breath. Thank goodness for my brother. He got a pass for his hand in getting me drunk last night. Plus, it had mostly been Zachary. Married or not, he was still a troublemaker.

I glanced at the coffee table again. Someone—probably Marigold—had left me a glass of water and a couple of ibuprofen. I sat up and took the painkillers, gulping down the entire glass.

Trying to ignore the pain attempting to split my head open, I got up. If I didn’t get moving, I was going to be late for work.

I groaned. Again. My car was at the Timberbeast.

“Oh hey, man.” Zachary came down the hallway, buttoning his blue flannel. “Glad you’re up. Do you have to work?”

“Yeah.” My voice sounded like gravel.

“Bummer. I can give you a ride to your car.”

“Thanks.”

He grinned at me as he rolled the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows. “No problem.”

“I should be mad at you.”

“Yeah, probably. But we had fun, didn’t we?”

I rubbed my temples. “How are you in such a good mood? Aren’t you hungover?”

“I only had two drinks.”

“Seriously? You just sat there and got me shit-faced?”