Written in 60 minutes.

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Cosmopolitan Suite: Master Bedroom

Deciding to go to sleep had been the easy part — the location of said sleep was more complicated. Jason had walked Elizabeth into the large master bedroom with the palatial king-sized bed. He’d hesitated as they both looked at the bed — then he’d started to say something about leaving the other room in the suite for Brenda, and he’d take the sofa —

Elizabeth had nearly let him walk out, but at least second—she’d twisted her fingers in the cotton fabric of his shirt, holding him back.

He’d gone temporarily insane and now they were married — she still couldn’t quite wrap her mind around any of that — but maybe it was her turn to take a risk.

“I’m really tired,” she told him. Jason turned to her, drawing his brows together in a bewildered frown. “And that bed is huge. If you’re on the sofa when Brenda and Sonny get here, you won’t get any sleep at all.”

He searched her eyes. “Elizabeth—”

“Let’s just go to sleep. You look so tired, Jason, and that sofa isn’t big enough.” Her fingers still holding his shirt, she drew back over the threshold of the room. With her free hand, she pushed it lightly until it closed.

“I—”

“Like you said — neither of us expected this to be happening. I trust you.” At least in this she did.

Elizabeth gently pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders, and it hit the marble tile of the floor. “I think we can share the bed. We used to sleep in the studio, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.” Jason cleared his throat. He brushed his fingers against her jaw. “Yeah, okay.”

He’d given her his t-shirt to sleep in, and while she changed in the bathroom, he had pulled the light blocking curtains over the window. She knew he could sleep through anything, and had done it for her.

They climbed into the bed, on opposite sides. She’d stared at the ceiling for a long time once he’d switched off the lamp, listening to him breathe. She’d dreamed of this once. Not precisely this — in her dreams, he had always been holding her — just laying in the dark, listening to him breathe.

She’d done that in the studio during the few short weeks they’d shared that pace, and it had been calming then. Reassuring. He was alive, and she’d saved him the way he’d saved her.

Now, it was strange to listen to him breathing, listening to the way it slowed and relaxed as he slid into sleep, and she was still trying to understand exactly she’d ended up as Jason’s wife when she followed him into slumber.

—

Jason opened his eyes, blinking just once as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room. He took in the silk sheets beneath him, the top sheet covering — then turned his head slightly find out that he hadn’t hallucinated the last twelve hours.

Not that he’d ever been one for dreams or hallucinations. There had just been that one time — last year — when he’d picked up Elizabeth’s gloves and for a moment—she’d been in the room with him. Smiling at him.

Then she’d been gone, and Jason decided he was just fine not be able to picture things.

She was laying in the bed next to him, her face turned towards him, her body twisted on its side. He could only dimly make out her features as light seeped around the edges of the heavy blackout fabric covering the window.

He’d come to Vegas to marry Brenda Barrett, and instead —

Instead, Elizabeth had shown up and, in a fit of temper and insanity—he’d decided that marrying her would be proof that he loved her.

He exhaled slowly, turning his face to the ceiling. What had he been thinking? And why had she agreed?

He’d never really pictured himself getting married before. Robin had mentioned it a few times, and he’d always thought they’d get married one day because it was something she wanted. But that was a life time ago.

Do you want proof or not?

He flinched, hearing his own angry words echoing in his brain as Elizabeth had looked at him with wide, confused eyes when he’d demanded a new marriage certificate. He didn’t have any practice with marriage proposals, but that probably wasn’t a good one.

She’d married him anyway.

Jason turned back to her, only half-surprised to find her eyes open, staring back at him. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey,” she replied. She slowly sat up, the sheet pooling at her waist. His shirt was too big for her and listed to one side, baring her shoulder. “What time is it?”

“Just before eight,” Jason told her. He sat up, but neither of them made a move to leave the bed.

If they got of bed—if they faced the day—

This was real.

And he was almost sure that she’d take it back. That the craziness would have sunk in and she’d want to run away.

And he wasn’t sure if he’d blame her. He hadn’t proposed to her, had shoved the certificate at her—and married her in the chapel, with the same officiant where he’d nearly married another woman.

She should be running from the suite screaming.

Instead, Elizabeth rubbed the heel of her hand against her chest and looked at him. “You should sleep longer,” she told him. “You—you said you hadn’t slept in two days—three hours isn’t really enough—”

“I’m fine,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “But you worked yesterday—”

At the mention of her job, Elizabeth’s face dimmed and she looked away. “Yeah, I did. Um, I don’t—” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down. “We said we’d figure it out when we woke up.” Elizabeth met his eyes again. “Any idea how to start that?”

“No.” And he felt a bit lighter when she laughed at him— a genuine laugh of amusement.

“Me, either.” She exhaled on a shorter laugh. “This is insane. I’ve never done anything as crazy as this, and I’ve faked my death.”

“Marrying me is crazier than taking poison?” Jason asked skeptically. “Should I be insulted?”

“Oh, that—” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “That was nothing compared to this. All I did was drink some wine. Nikolas and Sonny did everything else. Actually, it was a relief,” she admitted. “I woke up on the island and didn’t have to go home until it was over. This—” She gestured at the space between them. “This is definitely crazier.”

She still didn’t look sad or upset, so Jason decided not to take crazy as a bad thing. She wasn’t asking for an annulment. Or a divorce.

And she was still in bed.

Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at him, and he had a feeling if he could see her face in full light, her cheeks would be flaming red. “Do you wanna know something really weird?”

“What?” Jason slid closer. Just an inch. Well, maybe three inches.

“I really thought we’d both wake up, look at each other, and — I don’t know—we’d trip over each other to apologize. Or call it a mistake. Or, I don’t know, something. I thought I’d wake up and…regret it.”

Her soft confession took his breath away, and everything inside him tightened. “And you don’t?”

“Do you?”

He shook his head. He wasn’t going to let her deflect. Not again. “I asked you first.”

“No,” she said finally. “I’m—I’m not sure this was a good idea, but as insane as it sounds, I don’t really regret it either.”

“Me either.”

“Really?” Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “Not even a little?”

“No.” Jason slid closer again, leaving less than a foot of space between them. He cupped her cheek with his hand, and she leaned into it. “Not even a little.”

“I do…I do kind of wish one thing had been different.” Elizabeth opened her eyes, met his. “I wish we hadn’t been so tired when we got back to the hotel.”

Jason lifted his brows as she pressed a hand against the one on her face, then kissed his palm. “Are you tired now?” he murmured.

Elizabeth grinned at him, and he felt his mouth curve up in response. She hadn’t smiled at him like that in a long time. “Not even a little bit.”

She was still smiling when he cupped the back of her neck and dragged her him, crushing his mouth against hers, not giving her a chance to change her mind.

She pressed herself against him, wrapping her legs around his waist as they rolled over on the bed, nipping each other’s lips, both struggling to take control. When her fingers slid beneath the fabric of his briefs, Jason grabbed her hands and pressed them back against the bed. She arched her brows. “No?”

“Not yet,” he said, leaning down to kiss her neck, trailing his mouth down her collarbone. He released her hands so his own could slide down her body, push his shirt higher on her hips—

“Not fair—” she moaned.

He started to laugh—

Then there was a knock on the door. “Jase? You up? We got stuff to go over—”

Jason felt Elizabeth tense beneath him, like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her. “Elizabeth—”

She closed her eyes. “You should go,” she said, flatly. “It might be important.”

It might be. But it also might be bullshit. Like it had been nearly every time Sonny or Carly had called him last summer and dragged him away from her.

And if Jason got out of this bed right now—

Elizabeth would start regretting everything.

“I was going to say,” he said, “the door isn’t locked. And Sonny doesn’t know how to mind his own business. Don’t move.”

“Jason—”

“I mean it.” He kissed her, hard, tangling his hands in her hair, hoping she could taste his frustration, impatience, and desire. “Don’t move.”

“Not a muscle,” she managed as he rolled away from her.

—

On the other side of the door, Sonny was about to knock again when there was a CLICK sound. He stared at the door for a minute, frowning until he realized what he’d heard —

The bolt sliding home.

Locking the door.

“He—” Sonny turned to find Brenda, freshly showered and sipping a cup of a tea like she had a full eight hours of sleep and a morning at a spa rather than less than three hours of sleep.

Probably came from sleeping in a luxurious bed and not a crappy sofa. He rolled his neck. He’d be feeling this for weeks. He was not as young as he’d been once. “He locked it.”

“Yes, he did.” Brenda saluted him with the cup. “He just got married three hours ago, Sonny. Let the boy off the leash.”

Sonny scowled. “But—”

“You know, when they come up for air,” Brenda continued, ignoring him, “I’ve decided that I’m not even going to ask him to thank me.”

“Thank you—”

“I mean, yes, it was close,” she said, “but if I hadn’t dragged him to Vegas, he wouldn’t be knocking boots with his new wife. Whatever they were fighting about — seems like they’ve taken care of it.”

“I’m the reason she’s here,” Sonny said, irritated, stomping away from the door and all thoughts about what might be happening on the other side. “I get some credit.”

“Uh, I didn’t lie to him. You lied to her.” Brenda pointed at herself. “Winner.”

“Listen—”

It was nearly three hours—three hours—before the bedroom door unlocked, and Brenda was perusing the room service menu for lunch while Sonny was scowling at the list of voice mail messages from Carly who was not taking his silence kindly.

She was going to be seriously unhappy when they finally got home tonight.

Jason stepped out of the room, dressed again in the jeans and t-shirt he’d worn the night before. He walked over to the table where Brenda was sitting and sat down as if he hadn’t ignored Sonny for the last three hours —

A minute later, Elizabeth—flushed and avoiding everyone’s eyes—followed him out. She glanced at Jason for a minute, bit her lip, then sat down, reaching for a bottle of water from the basket in the middle of the table.

Sonny wanted to say something cutting and obnoxious, but since he’d just barely gotten away without being pummeled by Jason for his lies to Elizabeth — and both of them seemed in a good enough mood that he might end up being forgiven —

Well, he decided to just let it go.

“Uh, I woke up to a voice mail this morning,” Sonny said to them. “From our guy at the PCPD.”

Jason frowned, glanced at Brenda and Elizabeth as if confused why Sonny was saying anything in front of them. “Sonny—”

“We can go,” Elizabeth offered. “Um, maybe downstairs—”

“No, this is—” Sonny took a deep breath, met Elizabeth’s eyes. “The PCPD is looking for you. With a material witness order.”

“Material witness order?” Elizabeth shook her head as Jason scowled. “What’s that?”

“It’s faster than an arrest warrant,” Brenda said, almost cheerfully. “The cops want to haul you in, but warrants need evidence and judges and stuff like that. I’ve had a few of them.”

“Arrested—” Jason began as Elizabeth just wrinkled her nose.

“Oh, my God, don’t tell me she’s pressing charges.” With a roll of her eyes. “I didn’t get anywhere near her with the box cutter, and it’s not like I was really going to cut all her damn hair off.”

Jason broke off in mid sentence as he stared at her. “What?”

“I don’t even think the box cutter would have worked,” Elizabeth continued with a shrug. “And, in my defense, I told Courtney to shut up.”

Sonny hesitated. “Uh—”

“Courtney? The cheap blonde? No, I don’t think a box cutter would work—”

“Elizabeth,” Jason began.

“As interested as I am in why you threatened my sister with a knife,” Sonny said, slowly, drawing all their attention, “and believe me—we’ll circle back to that—the PCPD wants to talk to you about last night. On the pier.”

“Pier?” Jason repeated.

“I thought you said your guys didn’t find anything,” Elizabeth said, focusing on Sonny. “You said that before we were even in the air—”

“I know. But what was true at one in the morning—” Sonny shook his head. “It wasn’t true at five. They found a body.”

Elizabeth’s face paled. “A body—”

“And you were seen on security footage running from the pier,” he said with a wince. “Around the same time the gunshots were reported.”

“What the hell is going on—” Jason got to his feet, looking at Elizabeth. “Elizabeth—”

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Elizabeth slowly stood up, keeping her eyes on Sonny. “What’s the rest of it? The PCPD wouldn’t be coming after me with a material witness order otherwise.”

“The body was Zander Smith,” Sonny said with a sigh. “You were seen running from the scene of his murder. So, yeah, they kind of want to talk to you.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Zander’s dead.”

“Yes.”

“And—” She opened her eyes, looked at Jason. “Oh, God.”

“What—” Then Sonny saw it hit Jason at the same time, his cheeks losing a bit of color. “They think I did it.”

“And that Elizabeth saw something.”

“Which means this, uh, marriage thing—” Sonny wrinkled his nose. “Which was impetuous and funny about an hour ago now looks like a cover-up.”

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