Alana Neal had a plan: flee to Cabo San Lucas, drink away the humiliation of being jilted at the altar, and go home with her dignity intact. Two out of three wasn’t bad.
She wakes up on day two with a pounding headache, a wedding ring she doesn’t remember putting on, and a very naked Navy SEAL in her bed who appears to be her husband.
Chase Flannigan had one ironclad rule — never get married. Apparently, tequila didn’t get the memo.
Retracing their steps to figure out how they ended up at an altar leads them straight into the crosshairs of the Jalisco cartel, where someone wants Chase dead and Alana is the perfect incentive to make him show up and die quietly.
Some honeymoons are planned. Some are survived.
