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Mister Wrong

Page 3

by Nicole Williams


  There was just enough doubt in her voice for me to pick up on. She was questioning if Jacob had really stayed the night at my place. If he’d gone to bed like a good boy on the night of his wedding, or spent it partying like he tended to most Friday nights.

  Tell her now. Another segue that’s as good as they’re going to get.

  “Yeah, it wasn’t until this afternoon when he started losing his insides via his mouth.” I sighed to myself after. Every minute that went by made it harder to tell her.

  “We should swing by, you know? Bring him some tea or soup or something.” She tipped her head so she was looking up at me.

  My chest squeezed. She wasn’t just thinking about me, she wanted to do something for me. She wanted to do something nice for me on her wedding day. It was no wonder I’d had it so bad for Cora all of these years. No woman rivaled her. No woman ever could.

  “Believe me, it would come right back up. And if we want to make our flight, we can’t waste another minute.” I checked my watch. We had plenty of time before our flight to make a quick stop, but there wouldn’t be a food-poisoned Matt to check on if we did stop.

  “Then let’s call him.” Cora was already pulling her phone out of her purse.

  “No!” I wrapped my hand around hers before she could dial my number. My phone was currently in my pants’ pocket and not silenced. “Let him rest. We’ll call him in the morning.” Yeah, brilliant. Delay the inevitable, because you haven’t already dug yourself a good and deep hole. “I’ve got his wedding present for us,” I said to shift the conversation. “He gave it to me earlier.”

  When I pulled the silver bracelet from my pocket, Cora sat up, studying it carefully. “That was your mother’s.”

  Her fingers touched the charms hanging from the bracelet, charms representing memories of all the places we’d traveled together before she died. From one of Mickey Mouse from the time she’d taken us to Disney World, to a spaceship from when we’d visited Cape Canaveral.

  “Why would he give it to me instead of his wife one day?” she asked as I clasped it into place on her wrist.

  That question was one of the few I could answer honestly. “Because he loves you.” I studied the bracelet on her wrist; it was a perfect fit. Then I glanced at the ring on her finger. I might have been the one who’d slid it into place there, but I wasn’t the one she wanted. I never had been. “You’re like the sister he never had and the wife he never will have.”

  Her head shook against me. “He’ll find someone. I know it.” She exhaled, almost sounding sad. Was it pity? Or was it regret? I couldn’t be sure. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t snatched him up yet.”

  I snorted, like I knew Jacob would have. “Matt?”

  “Yes, Matt.” She blinked at me, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t pretend you don’t adore him. He’s a good man. You both are good men. I just want to see him happy like we are.”

  Another break in my heart. It was a miracle there was still anything left to break after all of these years.

  My arm tightened around her, my chin tucking over her head. “He is happy. I know it.”

  He’d never been happier.

  At least for the moment.

  I loved him more than ever before.

  It was a relief, because I hadn’t been sure how either one of us would feel once we were married. With some couples, it seemed like marriage made them fall more in love every day, and with others, more out of love.

  Sitting in that limo, I knew for sure we were in that “more every day” category. I also knew I’d made the right decision. After everything—the doubts, the fights, the lies, the promises—I’d made the right decision. It was confirmed every time I looked into my new husband’s eyes. He didn’t just love me today—he’d love me forever.

  He hadn’t just spoken his vows—he’d meant them. That had been obvious from the way his eyes never left mine as he said them, and from the tone of his voice, strong and unwavering. I’d felt it when he slid on my ring, and I’d felt it when he kissed me for the first time as a married couple.

  Damn, just thinking about that kiss was making me shift in place, the memory of it warming my heart at the same time it made something else heat up. Jacob had never really kissed me like he had today, and in front of hundreds of people no less. He kissed me like we’d been lovers in hundreds of lifetimes before this one, like he wouldn’t rest until he found me in a hundred more lifetimes in the future. He kissed me like I was everything he needed, and I was clinging to the hope that I was.

  Jacob and I had never had an easy relationship; I’d always assumed that was what made it so real. We weren’t like the couples who acted like they’d never so much as fired a heated word at each other or doubted if they were with the right person. We’d never been the perfect couple, but we’d been an authentic one.

  He had issues, I had issues, and we fought about our issues. Regularly.

  When he’d asked me a year ago to marry him, I hadn’t been able to answer right away. It had taken me two solid weeks of consideration and contemplation to give him my answer. Lately, I’d been doubting that I’d given him the right one. After today, I knew with certainty I had.

  All of those doubts and mistakes, I’d leave in the past. He’d messed up, but I wasn’t exactly innocent either. That wasn’t what mattered anymore. I wouldn’t focus on what was behind us but what was in front of us.

  “You’re quiet.” I glanced at Jacob as we waited for our tickets to be taken. He still made my stomach drop when I looked at him, even though I’d been looking at him for two decades. The Adams brothers had made plenty of stomachs drop. A side effect of having a nice body and an even nicer face.

  He handed the woman at the gate our tickets before roping his arm around me. “Sorry. There’s a lot going through my head right now.” That same heavy, burdened look cast over his face. It had made its appearance a lot today.

  “Having second thoughts?” I lifted his left hand, tapping his wedding ring with my finger as we started down the breezeway to the plane.

  “Second thoughts about marrying you? No way.” His head shook. “But second thoughts about you marrying me? Maybe.”

  My forehead creased. I wasn’t used to this thoughtful, brooding side of Jacob. He was more a fan of hiding his feelings than laying them out for me to see. “What do you mean?”

  His breath came out all at once, like his lungs were collapsing on themselves. “Why do you love me? After everything I’ve put you through, why me?”

  I waited to see if he was being serious. This was an odd time to bring up this kind of thing—hours after the wedding.

  My silence was met with more from him, so I finally answered. “Because you’re not the only one with faults. I’ve got mine too.” My eyes closed when I thought of my own—my biggest fault had been a part of me for so long, I wasn’t sure it was something I could ever move beyond. But I’d have to try, because we were married now and that changed everything. “And you and I, we’ve been through a lot together and you’ve always been there for me when it counted. When I needed you.”

  “You know you deserve better, right?” Jacob took my hand as we boarded the plane, making our way toward our seats up front.

  “I know I want you. That’s all that matters to me.”

  My hand tightened around his as we wove down the aisle and I concentrated on keeping my breathing even. I’d never been a fan of flying. Secretly. I’d flown a handful of places, usually for work, and never made a big deal about it to whomever I was traveling with. I usually chased a couple of Benadryl with a stiff drink before I boarded, but I’d gotten totally distracted by my new husband and the way it had taken him half an hour to pick out just the right charm at the duty-free jewelry store to add to my new bracelet. He’d gone with an eternity symbol, which was all kinds of perfect given the promises we’d made to each other today.

  Then we’d wasted another half hour in a little dessert shop, sampling one of everything they had on display
. Which was, again, all kinds of perfect since Jacob didn’t usually like to indulge my sweet tooth. Something about wanting to keep me healthy, but I guessed it had also had something to do with wanting to keep me semi-thin. So usually I just satisfied my sweet cravings when I was alone and could take my time with whatever lovely confection I was in the mood for. Tonight’s out-of-character displays led me to wonder if he was trying to demonstrate that he loved me no matter what. Those vows he’d said in that strong voice of his rolled through my mind again.

  When we made it to our seats, he slid aside to give me the window seat. When he saw my face, concern drew his brows together. “What’s the matter?” He slid in beside me right away, scanning my face like he was trying to figure out what was wrong.

  “Um . . .” I’d never mentioned to Jacob my fear of flying. We’d only taken a couple of flights together, and he’d barely seemed to notice when I passed out from my antihistamine-vodka daze.

  “Cora, what is it?” He looked worried. Like he was about to dial 9-1-1 or something worried.

  “It’s just flying and me. We don’t really get along.” My body was breaking out in a clammy sweat and the cabin door hadn’t even been sealed. I’d brought my smaller clutch onto the flight, which did not contain an emergency supply of Benadryl.

  “If you don’t like flying, then why are we headed to St. Thomas for our honeymoon?” He scanned up and down the aisle like he was looking for something to help me.

  “Because you wanted to go to St. Thomas for our honeymoon?” I answered, since it had been his idea. Jacob loved the Caribbean.

  His jaw ground together at the same time his eyes narrowed like he was pissed about something. “Let’s get off,” he said, already rising in his seat.

  “No.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him back down. “I’ll be fine. It’s our honeymoon. I wouldn’t miss it if it meant taking a twenty-hour flight.”

  “Cora . . .” His gaze swept back toward the door, where the last passengers were staggering in.

  “I’ll be okay. I’ve got you with me.”

  When my fingers tied through his, he exhaled. “How long have you been scared of flying?”

  Honest answer? Then I reminded myself we were married. Honesty was the only way to go. “Forever.”

  Jacob’s eyes lifted to the ceiling, his jaw doing that clamping thing again. Then he spun around in his seat and raised his hand. One of the first-class attendants appeared beside our row a moment later.

  “Can you get her a drink, please?” he asked. “A good one?”

  The attendant gave me a sympathetic look. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

  While she rushed off to get my drink, Jacob stood and shuffled through some of the overhead bins until he pulled a pillow and blanket out of one. “Here. Make yourself comfortable.”

  When the cabin door sealed shut, I jolted.

  “Or as comfortable as you can be.”

  Jacob didn’t bother with the cup when the attendant showed back up with an array of small bottles. He just twisted the cap off the first bottle and held it out for me, practically lifting it to my lips. He thanked the attendant, who was kind enough to pull a couple more bottles from her apron and set them on his armrest.

  “I’m having flashbacks to our first date.” I smiled then let him lift the bottle to my lips. It tasted awful, but hopefully it would go to my head quickly so I could fall asleep and stay asleep until we were in St. Thomas.

  “Why flashbacks?” His brow cocked as he tipped the bottle back against my lips.

  And just like that, I finished a mini bottle of disgusting vodka. On the plus side, I could already feel it making my head fuzzy. “Because you pretty much shoved one of those things into my mouth then too. Except it was a bigger bottle.” I flicked the empty bottle he was screwing the lid back onto. “And after, we had our first kiss.”

  His hand froze, along with the rest of his body. It took me gently nudging him and squeezing his hand to break his sudden freeze.

  “What did you expect? A girl like you wasn’t going to kiss a guy like me sober.” He smiled, but it was a conjured up one.

  “You kissed me. Nice try.” I twisted in my seat so I was facing him, feeling my nerves start to dull. That was when the plane started to move, and fresh adrenaline burst into my system. Before he could stop me, I grabbed another mini bottle and unscrewed the lid.

  “But you kissed me back.”

  “Not that I had a lot of choice in the matter.” I raised my eyebrows at him, remembering that night, and took a drink.

  Concern drew up his face. “Are you saying I forced myself on you?” He cleared his throat as his hands worked into fists.

  Okay, I’d been drinking that night, but it was one of the few nights Jacob hadn’t been. He should have remembered our first date and kiss better than I did.

  “No, you didn’t force yourself on me. If you had, I wouldn’t have let you put this shiny expensive thing on my finger this afternoon.” I lifted my left hand, waving my fingers in his face. “But you were forceful.” I paused, reliving the scene. It had been my first kiss ever, and while it was everything I’d always hoped it would be, it was, in another way, a giant letdown in the fireworks department. I’d never told Jacob that, and I never would. Some truths were better taken to one’s grave than left to wither in the open air. “A force to be reckoned with. That’s always been you, Jacob.”

  He was quiet, staring straight ahead like he was in a different world. When the plane started to take off, the jets blasting so loudly I felt the noise rattling my insides, I clamped my eyes closed and tried to find my happy place. No amount of intoxication could erase my dread of takeoff and landing. I’d learned that long ago. The beginning and the end was always the worst—the scariest part.

  Jacob’s arm wrapped around my quivering body, and he drew me close. His head tucked over mine, and he pulled the blanket tight around my body, making me feel like nothing could happen as long as he was here.

  It was a foreign feeling when it came to Jacob—feeling safe. Usually I felt more exposed with him, like I never knew what to expect or how to react. At the same time it was a new feeling for me to have with him, it was not a new feeling overall. I’d felt this way before, but it hadn’t been in Jacob’s presence—it had been in his brother’s.

  Matt.

  God, I couldn’t think of him. Not right now. Not now that I’d married Jacob and made things final between us. It wasn’t fair to Jacob. It wasn’t fair to either of them. It wasn’t fair to me either. I’d waited. And waited. And nothing.

  I’d been wrong about Matt harboring feelings for me. I’d been wrong to harbor my own. I’d kept Jacob on the line, biding his time, for too long, and I’d finally accepted what I should have long ago.

  Matt didn’t love me. Not the way I wanted him to.

  So I’d agreed when Jacob asked me again last summer to marry him. I’d finally agreed to get on with my life and stop living it in some perpetual state of waiting.

  I’d chosen Jacob. And sitting here beside him, having him comfort me and hold me close, confirmed that I’d made the right choice.

  No one could love me the way the man holding me right now could.

  Could this driver be any slower?! I leaned forward to check the odometer to see if we really were traveling two miles per hour like it felt. Surprisingly, the odometer still showed we were cruising along in the thirty to thirty-five mile an hour range.

  “What’s up?” Jacob leaned forward with me to see what I was checking for—for the ten thousandth time since sliding into the backseat of the cab at the airport.

  “Nothing. Just feels like we’re going slow.” My eyes narrowed on the odometer. At least I thought we were going about thirty-five; it was hard to tell. I’d finished more mini bottles of alcohol than a girl my stature probably should have during that two-plus-hour flight, but I’d made it and survived without going full-on psycho.

  I’d blown past buzzed two mini bottles ago.
Which meant my vision was a little funky.

  “In a hurry to get somewhere?” Jacob’s voice was low, his words like velvet, as his fingers scrolled down my arm, brushing the side of my breast on their return trip.

  The touch surprised me, making me shift in my seat. He’d barely touched me today, which was very un-Jacob-like. He’d barely let me touch him either, which was even more un-Jacob-like. It was almost like my new husband had grown some Puritan values or something.

  But no. He’d just grazed my breast. In the backseat of a taxi. I cleared my throat when his fingers repeated the motion, this time practically cupping my entire breast in his palm.

  No, definitely not a Puritan value—squeezing one’s wife’s boob in the backseat of a cab. Thank god.

  I turned my head so I was looking at him. He was staring at me with something dark in his eyes—something almost predatory. The ache between my legs grew until I felt like my whole being was consumed with need.

  “You’re making me in more of a hurry.”

  He kissed the tip of my nose, his fingers still touching me in ways that were making me squirm. “Good.”

  The warmth of whiskey on his breath broke across my mouth. The glaze in his eyes told me that I wasn’t the only one who’d drank a little more than they should have on the plane ride. But he’d only had a couple of bottles, which should not have affected Jacob at all. I’d seen him down ten times as much in the same amount of time and still have enough coordination to play a game of Ping-Pong with his non-dominant hand. It was strange that two baby bottles would be getting to him the way they were, but maybe it was due to all of the excitement of the day. He probably hadn’t eaten much, so those two bottles had gone straight to his head.

  “Are you hungry? We could stop and grab something on our way to the hotel.” I scanned outside the window for any convenience store or late night drive-through that might still be open. Not that St. Thomas was a mecca for fast food and 7-11s.

  Jacob’s arm wound lower, his hand lifting my hip so it could slide beneath me. He gave my backside a hard squeeze, pressing my body impossibly close to his. “I’m hungry for you.”

 

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