The One I Need, an all-new opposite-attract, accidental marriage standalone romance full of heat from bestselling author Chelle Sloan is available now!
You’re cordially invited to the wedding of Oliver Price and Izzy McCall…
That’s how my wedding invitations should have started. I should know, I’ve had my wedding planned since I was ten.
I should’ve been wearing a designer tuxedo, not a tuxedo t-shirt.
The wedding should’ve been in a church with family and friends, not in a 1960’s style chapel with Elvis as the officiant.
It’s nothing I ever imagined.
Except the girl.
She’s the only thing about this accidental marriage that is exactly right. Even if we’re complete opposites.
I’m glass-half-full and crazy colored socks. She’s glass-half-empty and power suits.
I love love. She thinks it doesn’t exist.
I want to stay married. She wants a divorce.
A problem for all newlyweds, right?
From the moment I met Izzy, I knew she was the only one I’d ever need.
Now I just need to convince my wife that I’m the one for her.
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My head is spinning and pounding at the same time, and it has nothing to do with the loud music playing at this wedding reception or the obnoxious amount of liquor I’ve consumed.
Okay, the spinning is because of the booze. But the pounding? That’s because my best friend Wes is a fucking idiot. I’m hammered out of my damn mind and even I see that. And I’m seeing three of everything right now.
“It’s your future that’s going to be alone and miserable.”
Wes shoots a glare to our friend Simon, who isn’t backing down to Wes’s insane logic. “But her future is what I’m trying to save!”
“Is she not a part of your future?”
Wes snaps a look to Shane, our friend who usually keeps his mouth shut. Hell, Simon and I both are now staring at the normally broody one of the bunch, surprised he chimed in.
“What did you say?” Wes asks.
Shane leans his elbows on the table. “I said, before this fight, was Betsy not part of your future?”
“Of course she was.”
“Then why can’t you be part of hers?”
Damn…I can actually feel my brain explode with the truth bomb Shane just dropped.
I look over to Wes, who still hasn’t said anything.
Is he really this dense? He has to be. He has this amazing woman who came into his life when he least expected it, fell in love with him, loves his kids like they are her own, and yet because he can’t get out of his own way, he’s going to fuck everything up.
Does he not realize people would kill for that kind of partner? That it’s what some of us look for our entire lives? That some of us—me—are starting to think that it’s just not in the cards? Is he really going to throw that away?
“She loves you, Wes,” I say. I think I interrupted him, but I don’t give a shit. “She loves the kids. She’s the kind of woman you hope to fall in love with one day. I don’t know what’s going on in your head but don’t push that away. Some of us look for this kind of love our entire lives. You have it. And now look at it.”
I nod to the dance floor where Betsy is dancing with one of Wes’s former Nashville Fury teammates. It’s a slower song—a wedding staple, if you ask me. Everyone who’s here with a date is on the dance floor.
Which means that’s my cue for another trip to the bar.
I love weddings. I’m the best wedding date there is if I do say so myself. I like to dance and have fun. I will lead any conga line. Need a dancing partner for the great-grandmother? I’m your guy. Need someone to hype the newlyweds up? I’m here for it.
And when it comes to catching the garters? No one is better than me. Most guys run away from it. Not me. I’ll grab that thing every fucking time and celebrate like I just caught a foul ball at a Tennessee Arrows game.
The old wives’ tale is that when you catch it, you’re next. Bullshit. It’s all bullshit. I’ve caught seventeen of them. Yet here I am, still alone.
“Jack and Coke.”
I don’t know why I needed to say it. I’ve been to the bar so many times tonight this man knows my drink by now. He sets it in front of me, and I turn around to watch the couples on the dance floor.
I should be out there. I thought Shannon, the girl I was seeing as of today, was going to turn into something special. Yes, it was stupid to say what I said. And I apologized. Apparently she’s never said or done anything stupid before, like proposing marriage during sex.
Whatever. That just means she wasn’t the one. The woman who I’m supposed to be with is out there somewhere. One day I’ll find her.
Hopefully. Maybe. Possibly.
“Jack and Coke. Make it a double.”
I look to my left and nearly lose my footing. And not because of the six Jack and Cokes I’ve had tonight. It’s because of the woman standing next to me.
She’s that damn gorgeous.
Her fiery red hair is sleek and smooth, running down past her shoulders. The gold dress she’s wearing is fitted and catching every one of her mouthwatering curves. And a woman who drinks Jack and Coke? Now that’s my type.
And because I’m so drunk, I’m seeing two of her.
Double the pleasure, double the fun.
“Do you want to dance?”
She turns to look at me, and even in my drunkenness I can tell she doesn’t know if I was talking to her.
“Excuse me?”
I nod over to the dance floor. “I asked if you’d like to dance?”
“Do you always ask strangers to dance?”
“Only the beautiful ones.”
She rolls her eyes. “Now that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one.”
I shake my head. “Not a line.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Well, sorry,” she says as she takes her drink from the bartender. “I don’t dance.”
“What do you mean you don’t dance? Who doesn’t dance?”
“Me,” she says before taking a sip. “Sorry to ruin your night.”
She turns back to the bar, but I don’t let that stop me. I’m persistent, if nothing else. It’s part of my charm. At least I like to think so.
“I’m Oliver.”
I extend my hand to her, because that’s what drunk me feels like is the right thing to do at the moment. For a second I think she’s just going to walk away. She looks down at my hand and then back up to me. I’m about to pull it back and crack a joke to make it a little less awkward when her hand meets mine. I don’t know if it’s the booze or what, but I swear I think I was just electrocuted.
“Nice to meet you Oliver. I’m Izzy. How about another drink?”
Learn more about Chelle Sloan and her releases by visiting her website:
https://www.chellesloan.com
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