Or is this all just an act? All just a play for the weekend, to win his friend’s bet. After all, how many times has he reminded me so far that he’s competitive? It’s how we wound up in this situation in the first place. Because he couldn’t stand the idea of losing one silly bet with a friend.
Still, this seems like more lengths than he has to go to just to win. Breakfast in bed, complimenting me, reminding me of how well we know each other, how this is more than just a weekend fling. He knows me, and I know him too.
Could this be real?
He catches me watching him and smiles at me, lifting his cup of coffee in salute. I lift mine too, and we share a smile, before we both take slow drinks, our eyes never leaving one another’s. I want to know. I want to ask him if this is real. But I don’t, because I’m scared.
What if he says no? What if he thinks I’m crazy for reading more into this than there really is? He told me upfront that this was just a one weekend deal, one silly bet, and then it would be over.
I can’t fall for him. Not anymore than I already have. It’s bad enough I let myself get embroiled this deep. We only have one day and one night left here. I’ll enjoy it, and then come tomorrow, I’ll take this ring off my finger and stop being his wife.
This is the only time we’ll ever get together.
As much as it hurts to think about, I know I’m making the smart choice. Better this than risking getting my heart broken.
10
After breakfast in bed, we head down to the spa to meet Meghan and Paul. They’re smiling, chatty. If they heard us screaming in our room all night long, they don’t let on. They greet us with hugs and then Meghan hooks her arm through mine and points to the spa features.
“Looks like the massage rooms are separated by gender,” she explains, “And there’s a free facial package we should probably take advantage of too. We can meet the boys afterward in the steam room and sauna, those are connected for both men and women. You fine with me kidnapping your wife for a bit, Luke?” she calls over her shoulder, probably because he’s been trailing us from the moment we walked away, his gaze fixed on me.
I flash him a grin as he chuckles. “Just keep in mind, I’m a jealous husband,” he tells Meghan with a wink.
“I promise to bring her back in one piece,” Meghan calls. Then we duck into the massage room.
Unbeknownst to me, apparently Luke booked ahead for all four of us. At any rate, the spa attendants seem to recognize us at once and they lead us into a joint room, where they have us lie face down on tables and oil up our backs. It is quite possibly the best massage I’ve ever had—and a desperately needed one after last night’s marathon workout sex. Every muscle in my body feels sore, in ways I never knew were possible. So it feels fantastic to have them knead out the knots now, even if it keeps making me groan in pain.
“Worked out recently?” Meghan asks, with a knowing smirk.
“Something like that,” I admit, my cheeks flushed bright red as I think about how much noise we made last night. Not to mention what we did in the hot tub. I wonder if Meghan and Paul noticed us, from where they were on the dance floor.
“I’m sure.” She laughs. “So tell me, is Luke as great in bed as he looks like he’d be?”
My cheeks flush even worse than before. “Er, well… I mean…”
“Because damn, that man is attractive as hell,” she adds with an almost wistful sigh.
Something unpleasant curls in my stomach for a moment. He’s not mine, I tell myself. I can’t act jealous if I’m not even really his wife. Still. “That is why I married him, after all,” I say a little testily. Then I catch myself. “One of the reasons, I mean. Also for his brain. And his personality. And, well…”
Meghan laughs, sounding lighthearted. “Relax, Celia, I’m only teasing. Besides, I think you’re smoking hot too, y’know.” She reaches over to nudge my shoulder with one hand, and my face, if anything, blushes worse than ever.
“Thanks. You’re hot too,” I add, because it seems like the polite thing to say, and because, well, she is. She and Paul both are. “You guys make a gorgeous couple.”
“Thanks.” Meghan sighs happily. “Is it crazy that I’m actually looking forward to being married?”
I glance over and catch her studying her engagement ring with a contended smile. I find myself watching her more closely, feeling a fresh bloom of jealousy now for an entirely different reason. “Of course not. I think that makes perfect sense. You found the right guy to settle down with, and now you’re going to be with him for the rest of your lives. Why wouldn’t that be something to look forward to?”
“You just hear so many people talking about settling down as… well, settling. As putting on the old ball and chain and never having any more fun. I don’t think it’s going to be like that for us. Paul and I are still going to have fun, and neither of us are settling for each other.”
“Of course not,” I agree. “It’s not settling if you’re both head over heels in love.” I catch myself looking at my own ring too, turning it this way and that to enjoy the way the diamond catches the lights in here, reflecting them back in dozens of multicolored sparkles that dance along the walls. When the masseuse nudges me to turn over for the facial, I roll onto my back and rest both hands on my stomach, my right one over my left, toying with the ring absently as I think about how nice that must be. To feel certain about your partner. To know you are marrying for the right reasons, and the right person.
To know exactly how you both feel, and to be certain you are on the same page about it.
Yes, I am jealous of Meghan, but not because she thinks Luke is hot. It’s because she’s got a normal engagement, leading up to a real marriage, and me? I just have this weekend. I just have a couple days of playing pretend, and then it’ll be back to the real world.
“Hey.” Meghan’s hand brushes my shoulder again. “You okay?”
I glance over at her, and then do I realize that a tear escaped my eye and tracked its way down my cheek. I wipe it away, feeling more embarrassed than ever, my face white hot now. “Yeah, fine,” I mumble, my voice thick and unconvincing. “Just, um… something in my eye. Lotion or oil or something.”
Her hand drops away, and she lies back on her spa bed, closing her eyes. If she doesn’t believe me, at least she’s nice enough not to call me out on it.
I shut my eyes too, and try to relax back into the spa treatment, instead of letting my brain run in circles worrying what’s going to happen when this weekend ends.
11
We head out to meet the guys in the sauna area, our bodies loose and relaxed from the massages, and my face feeling soft and smooth from the moisturizers they piled onto it after the facial. I breathe in a sigh of contentment as I step out of the massage room and into the main area of the spa. The air is a little cooler out here, probably to provide a contrast between the different saunas and steam rooms.
Meghan taps my shoulder. “I’ve got to run to the restroom. Why don’t you figure out which sauna the guys are in and I’ll catch up to you?”
I flash her a thumbs up and turn to study the different chambers. There’s a few of them: a big stone chamber that looks like an oven, with a wood fire burning inside it. Another with what look like jade crystals embedded into the walls all around it, also with wood smoke. Then there are a couple of steam baths, small eight or ten-person sized bubbles filled with so much steam you can barely see inside the windows.
I check the two saunas first and find them empty. Then I open the door to the first steam room. The scent of eucalyptus and mint spills out, along with the sound of voices.
“—two weeks until the wedding,” Paul is saying. “We just wanted to have our last fun as… well, you know. As a non-married couple.”
“Define fun, exactly.” Luke’s voice sounds funny, constricted a little. Almost… angry? But that can’t be right.
“You know. A little sharing, a little mutual pleasure. I mean, we heard you guys last ni
ght, and it definitely sounded like a fantastic time.”
My cheeks flush, not from the steam either. Is Paul suggesting what I think he is? I think back to Meghan’s comments in the massage room. Besides, I think you’re smoking hot too. Was this what she meant? That she wanted to… what, share me with her husband? And Luke?
I hesitate, holding my breath. What is Luke going to say? On the one hand, Paul and Meghan are very attractive. But on the other, I’m not sure I’m into the idea of sharing Luke. Not when I finally get to have him all to myself, after all this waiting. I can’t stand the idea of seeing him with Meghan. It turns my stomach, even if I know she only meant it in fun.
“Absolutely not,” Luke says, and I let my breath out in a rush, relieved.
Paul laughs a little, though it sounds weak. “I didn’t mean anything, man. I only thought the four of us could have some fun together. Celia’s extremely hot, you clearly hit the jackpot, and I’d say I did too, although I might be biased… Why not share the wealth a little, you know?”
“Because I’m greedy,” Luke responds without missing a beat. “While I agree with you—she is amazing—I’d never share Celia. Not with anyone.”
There’s a tense silence, but I don’t even notice, because I’m too busy feeling a rush of relief. I realize I’ve been standing in the doorway, letting the heat and steam out of the room, and I step inside fully, pulling the door shut behind me. I step over to the bench where the boys are sitting just in time to witness them hugging, Luke slapping his friend’s back.
“Sorry, man, I’m sorry, that was out of line,” Paul is saying.
“Don’t worry about it,” Luke says, and then his eyes flash to mine. “Celia. How did spa day go?”
“Great,” I say, unable to keep the stupid, wide grin off my face at hearing him defend me like that, when he didn’t even realize I could hear him. I’d never share Celia. Never, he said. Not just “not for this weekend.” I can hardly breathe; my head is spinning from so much happiness—not to mention from the steam is here.
I plop down next to Luke and rest a hand on his thigh, and he immediately wraps an arm around my shoulders, protective and comforting all at once. “How was your guys’ day so far?”
“Massages were excellent,” he says. “The steam room, I’m not so sure about.”
Paul leans around him to nod. “You know, I think the steam is getting to my head, actually. I’m going to go pop out for a minute, try and clear it.”
Luke relaxes the moment his friend leaves, holding me closer against his side. I snuggle into him, unable to repress my smile any longer, and rest my head on his shoulder. “I kind of like it in here,” I say, and I can hear the smile in his voice when Luke says, “Me too. Now, anyway.”
12
At sunset, we join the hotel crowd on the beach just below the cliffs where the building sits. There’s a huge bonfire already going by the time we get there, since after sundown it tends to get a bit chilly on the waterfront. The sun hasn’t set quite yet, but it’s starting to turn orange, and painting the wisps of clouds along the horizon bright pink as it goes.
The hotel bar sent down a cart to set up, along with a bartender and beach themed cocktails. I order a piña colada inside an actual coconut. Meghan and Paul toast us with theirs, and the four of us walk down to the water to dip our toes in. As usual, the Pacific’s water is frigid, but it’s a nice shock to the system, especially after the walk across the hot white sand.
We chat and smile, until Meghan complains that her feet are getting too cold. She and Paul promise to save us a spot near the fire, and they head back up, leaving me and Luke alone with the lapping waves. We walk back a few paces from the water’s edge, and he spreads out the jacket he brought with him for me to sit on. He just sits straight down on the sand himself.
“It is beautiful here,” I say, sipping my drink. He takes a long drink of his and nods.
“It is,” he says, but his eyes never leave my face. He doesn’t even seem to notice the setting sun or the beach around us. Nothing but me. It makes a curl of pleasure swirl through my body. I can’t help it. I start to smile, broad and unstoppable.
His words from earlier have been stuck in my head all day. I’d never share Celia. Does that mean what I think it does? That there really is something between us, that this whole thing is real. Luke isn’t just playing around—or maybe he started out playing around, on account of the silly bet. But now he isn’t. I know it, just as suddenly and surely as I know that what I feel for him is more than just a silly office crush, too.
We know each other. We get along and have for a year. And now, we both know there’s more to it than just flirtation. There’s real chemistry here, and real feelings, too.
He leans in to kiss me, and my toes curl in the sand, even as I slide one hand up to bury it in his hair. This time his kiss is soft and slow and sweet. So tender it makes my heart ache with want. When we break apart, both our faces are flushed, even redder than the setting sun is currently painting them.
We linger like that, foreheads pressed together, gazes locked, as the sun dips below the horizon. All around us on the beach, we hear people cheering for the sunset. But it almost feels like they’re cheering for us, like this moment is a little slice of what our life together could be like, if we made this more than just a one weekend affair.
It makes my head swim with happiness. It makes me want more. And I think Luke does too.
“This weekend…” He hesitates. Tries again. “Celia, I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate everything about you.”
I smile at him, cupping his cheek. “Isn’t that what wives are for?”
He smiles back and tilts his head to one side to plant a slow kiss right in the center of my palm. “I just hope I’ve been a good enough husband to make up for it.”
“Oh, more than enough.” I trail my hand down to his chest, and let my palm rest there, feeling his slow, steady heartbeat. “I could get used to this,” I whisper.
But between the wind and the waves, I’m not sure I spoke loud enough for him to hear me. His gaze has drifted away from mine, out over the waves, like he’s considering the newly set sun and the pink painted wisps of cloud that still hover just above the horizon.
We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, until I notice his drink is empty. Gently, I disentangle it from his fingers. He sees what I’m doing and moves to stand. “Let me,” he says. “Do you need another?”
But I shake my head, already halfway to my feet. “I’ll go. Same again?” I wiggle his empty beer, and he nods. Unable to hide my smile, which feels stupidly wide, stretching practically from ear to ear, I jog back across the sand toward the bar set up, my heart fizzing with happiness.
This weekend is the start of something. I just know it is.
When I finally reach the bar, Paul is already in line there. I look around for Meghan and find her chatting to some girls near the firepit, waving her drink around to demonstrate some point. Paul waves and smiles as I approach. “Luke sending you on drink duty?” He shakes his head and tsks. “What a lazy husband you’ve got.”
I snort. “Nah, I volunteered for this one. Needed to stretch my legs.” I fall into line behind him after depositing my empty glasses on the bar. I feel awkward for a moment, aware of Paul’s eyes on me, and remembering his comments earlier. But he apologized to Luke already, and he didn’t mean anything bad I’m sure. He just wanted a foursome, that’s all.
Still, it makes my cheeks flame thinking about it, especially now that we’re alone in line. But it also reminds me that I owe Paul. After all, without him, none of this would have happened.
I check over my shoulder. Meghan still seems engaged in her conversation. I remember how the guys didn’t discuss the bet in front of her and think I should probably stick to that. But for now, since it’s just me and Paul… “Hey, I owe you a thank you, Paul.”
He glances at me, eyebrows lifted in confusion. “Oh? What do you mean?”
<
br /> “Well, if it wasn’t for your and Luke’s little bet, I don’t know that I ever would have wound up here with him.” I glance down at the ring sparkling on my finger, aware that I need to tread carefully. I can’t let him know we only pretended to get married for the bet. But if he thinks that’s why we moved things along a little more quickly, well…
But when I glance back up, I find Paul frowning at me in the dimming evening light. “What bet are you talking about?”
“You know.” I wiggle my wedding ring. It sparkles in the distant bonfire light. “When you two bet on which one of you would get married first?” He opens his mouth, but I hold up a hand to stave him off. “Now, I’m not saying Luke and I wouldn’t have gotten married otherwise, of course. Just, I think having that bet in the back of his mind made him a little more open to the idea. We probably wouldn’t have gotten as close to one another as quickly as we did, otherwise.” Even if it did still take a whole year of me mooning after him at work for him to notice.
But Paul is still frowning at me, eyebrows knit in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Celia,” he says slowly, as though I’m the one acting crazy.
It sinks in, little by little. Slow enough that I feel crazy too, gaping at him as my mind whirs. “You mean…” I clear my throat. “You and Luke never, um… never bet that you’d get married before the other one?”
He shakes his head. “No. Sorry, Celia. Maybe you’re confusing me with another of his friends?”
But I’m not. I know I’m not. It’s the whole reason Luke invited me on this weekend. The whole reason he’s had me pretending to be his wife this whole time. It was all because Paul was here. At least, so he claimed.
Marry Me Now: An Arranged Marriage Collection Page 22
