“Over there. Fall-down drunk, just like you. You’d think you two would be old enough to handle your drink,” the cranky male voice said.
Viv swiveled around and found Gabe a few feet away, struggling to sit. He held a hand to his head and looked as confused as she felt. Was he hurt? A vise gripped her chest. The old woman’s hand on her arm prevented her from going to him.
The woman peered over her shoulder at the man. “I don’t smell alcohol on them.” She returned her attention to Viv. “You two have some kind of accident? Do you need a doctor?”
“They need an AA meeting, not a doctor, Agnes.” He dug his hands into his pockets. A scowl deepened the already thick wrinkles lining his mouth. Rather than making him look as fierce as his tone of voice, he appeared confused. Viv wanted to reassure him everything was all right.
“Now I need a drink.” Agnes rolled her eyes, then smiled at Viv. “Don’t mind Albert. Can’t take a sip of alcohol without him calling AA. Doesn’t seem to stop him from imbibing, mind you. The old pain in the ass.” The fond smile she cast her husband belied the nastiness of her words. She squinted over Viv’s shoulder. “You two look so familiar. Do I know you?”
Albert? Agnes? Now that’s strange. Viv peered more closely at the couple. They even looked like Gabe’s relatives.
Gabe was suddenly behind her, his hands under her armpits hauling her to her feet. “You okay?”
No. She nodded. “Fine. What’s going on? Did you faint, too?”
Albert and Agnes watched, their aged faces curious.
Gabe draped an arm over her shoulder and squeezed. But instead of answering her questions, he spoke to the old couple. “We’re fine. Thanks for the help. We should go get cleaned up.” He steered her toward the inn.
She barely managed a weak wave before he dragged her away. “What was that all about? Why did you run away like that? I wanted to find out who they are. Did you notice how much they looked like Agnes and Albert? Same names and everything. It’s weird.”
They’d reached the pool area. Floating candles cast a romantic glow on the still waters. The rush of the waterfall at the far end blocked out noises from guests milling about the bar area inside. Through the wall of glass, she could see some sort of party going on.
Gabe stepped a few feet away from her and glanced at his watch. He mumbled to himself, then swung back toward her, a serious expression on his face. He pulled two Adirondack chairs to face each other and gestured for her to have a seat.
“We need to talk,” he said in a strained voice.
Now? He wanted to have their talk now? “Don’t you think we should call a doctor? We both just fainted for no reason. Something’s wrong.” After everything they’d been through, now they might have some kind of health issue? No. She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t.
“Yeah, I know. But I think I know what happened.”
“What? Were we exposed to something? Are we sick?” Nausea turned her stomach. Was it real, or was she reacting to the idea? Felt real enough.
“No, nothing like that.” He squeezed her shoulder. He pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth, chewing for a moment before sighing and spitting it into the wrapper.
A sure sign he was stressed. He was probably itching for a cigarette right about now. The gum was his backup plan. She’d made him quit years ago when he’d asked her to marry him. Smoking was a deal breaker for her.
She waited him out. If they were going to do this, she wasn’t going to make it any harder on herself by putting her foot in her mouth before he had a chance to say boo. He’d already brought up the D word—she wasn’t going to push it.
Maybe she was jumping to conclusions? They might not be sick, but something weird was going on. He couldn’t ignore that fact.
Her patience wasn’t going to last forever, though. Her fingers twitched where she clutched them tight in her lap. Why didn’t he say anything? Instead, he stared at his knees, chewing yet another piece of gum.
A door opened and noise filtered out to them. She craned her neck to get a glimpse, but he shifted and blocked her view.
“Do you remember me telling you about my aunt Agnes’s rather unusual religious beliefs?”
“Sure. Raised Wiccan, but converted to Catholicism to marry Albert. She believed in everything and nothing, all at once.” Crazy old bat. Agnes was the only one in Gabe’s family who never completely warmed up to her. Viv had given up trying to win her favor after a few choice remarks the weekend they got married. They’d eventually come to a grudging mutual respect, but no real affection.
“That about sums it up. Only she never gave up her witchy ways. I always thought it was a bunch of crap, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Why now? Because I had that stupid dream?”
“Yes. And because that was Agnes and Albert we saw just a few moments ago.”
She snorted. “Right. They suddenly came back to life to wish us a happy anniversary.” She was in no mood for bad jokes. “What’s wrong with you?” Why was he acting like this? Had he finally cracked under the pressure?
“I’m serious.”
She didn’t doubt it. Frown lines drew down the corners of his mouth, his brows were furrowed, and his gaze was intense as he stared somewhere in the vicinity of her knees. He always avoided eye contact until the moment he blurted out whatever was bothering him. He was gathering his thoughts. Once he looked into her eyes, he wouldn’t turn away until he’d finished.
He finally met her gaze and her breath caught.
He was serious, but there was an uncertainty in his gaze she hated seeing. He didn’t think she’d believe him.
But how could she? He was trying to make her believe his aunt and uncle had miraculously returned from the dead.
“Agnes and Albert died six years ago, within a few months of each other. That couldn’t possibly be them.” Was this some kind of loyalty test? Did he expect her to believe him no matter what insane story he came up with?
Just a few years ago, she would have. His word would have been enough for her—no matter how far-fetched. The thought made her chest ache.
“And yet it was.” His voice was frustratingly calm. He rarely lost his temper. Nothing rattled him anymore. “Have you noticed anything else around here? Like this pool? Or the gazebo?”
What is he getting at? She scanned the area around them with a frown. Huh. “It must be the light. The stonework looks different.” Nikki’s daughter, Noelle—twenty-seven now and engaged to be married—had taken them around to show off all the changes they’d made the past few years, the pool area being one of them. Yet everything looked exactly as she remembered it from their wedding.
Exactly. Down to the floating candles and new rosebushes. Her eyes widened. Thoughts whirled chaotically through her head. Nothing stayed exactly the same for fifteen years.
She could have sworn the bushes were three times this size. The gazebo had been different, too. Freshly planted rosebushes, bare wires where a light used to be, and a ladder tucked along the far rail indicated some kind of repair was going on.
But Noelle had mentioned the gazebo had received a fresh coat of paint last week to be ready for a wedding.
What she was thinking wasn’t possible. She misunderstood what Gabe was trying to tell her. She did that more often than not lately.
“Look closely.” Gabe slipped to the side a few inches and gestured toward the bar. A few people had come out into the cool night air and lingered around the edges of the pool opposite where they sat.
She couldn’t get a good look at any of them, yet they seemed familiar somehow. Someone shifted to the side and she gasped. She raised a trembling hand to point at the woman who had come into view. “That’s the crazy lady who crashed our wedding weekend. I remember that godawful slutty dress—I spilled a vodka cranberry on her that first night we all spent at the inn. I felt so guilty for ruining it. But then she was such a bitch about it. I was pissed. Remember?”
She�
��d been doing shots with the girls and had been none too steady on her feet.
He nodded. “Yeah. She threw a fit, then lied her way into my friend’s room later.” He laughed. “Lots of drama that—uh, this—weekend. But…Viv.” He took her hand and squeezed. “I don’t think Agnes was a dream. You saw her ghost. And she sent us back in time to the weekend we got married.”
The crowd parted and she had a straight line of sight to the bar. Holy crap. Her breath came in short gasps. She was going to hyperventilate.
Through the crowds of people, she could see—herself.
“Why?” A hundred questions ran through her mind. Why was the only one short enough to make it out of her mouth.
The answer hit her before he had a chance to come up with a reply. “She said she was going to fix things.” Agnes had tried to talk Gabe out of marrying her. She’d told him Viv was “flighty” and would never be a proper wife to him. “She thinks we made a mistake getting married.”
No. No. No. It can’t be…
The chair scraped the backs of her legs when she jumped to her feet. The scratch registered as a mild sting. A distant part of her brain told her she should take a look at it. She didn’t. She had to get out of here.
A sharp pain hit her chest. She couldn’t breathe. “Agnes sent us back so we can stop the wedding.”
No. Her mind kept repeating the word over and over. She didn’t want that. Did Gabe?
* * *
Viv ignored Gabe yelling after her. She ran away from the crowds of people at the bar. Not just any people. All her friends and relatives from fifteen years ago.
She’d lost touch with many of them since Connor’s death. Not that they hadn’t tried to talk to her, but Viv had cut herself off. She hadn’t wanted to know how much Morgan and Margot’s kids enjoyed spending summers on Star Island with their cousins, or hear about Nikki and Nate’s teenage son’s latest wrestling win. Getting the happy family photo Christmas cards every year was torture enough.
The last one she’d mailed was two and a half years ago. Connor had been only six years old.
She took the glass elevator up to her room on the second floor. She would open the door, see their luggage spread about the room, and prove Gabe was wrong about the whole time-travel nonsense.
She hadn’t seen her younger self at the bar. Her eyes had played tricks on her.
It took her three tries to get the old-fashioned key into the lock, her hands shook so violently. She’d thought it quaint that they still had actual keys instead of cards. Noelle had explained how they’d gone to great lengths to make the keys look old, when they’d actually modernized the locks to provide the best security to keep their guests safe.
The handle refused to budge. She tried again.
And again.
Same result.
This can’t be happening. It’s impossible.
She didn’t believe in this nonsense.
Besides, Agnes had come around a few years after the wedding. She saw that Viv and Gabe had the same passion for each other as on the day they married. They hadn’t exactly been best friends, but Viv had received a reluctant stamp of approval in the form of Agnes’s recipe for Gabe’s favorite apple pie.
If time travel was possible, Agnes wouldn’t try to break up Viv and Gabe. She wouldn’t.
Would she?
Maybe she thought to spare them the anguish of losing their son.
Viv choked back a sob and spun away from the locked door.
No. She wouldn’t allow it. No matter how awful life was without Connor, Viv couldn’t do that to her son. Gabe wouldn’t want that, either.
She took the stairs to the lobby, afraid she’d run into someone she knew. What would she say? What would they think?
She didn’t want to find out.
A glance at her watch told her it was 1:00 a.m. The party would be breaking up about now, if she remembered correctly. Her friends would be stumbling back to their rooms.
Gabe leaned on the reception desk next to a gorgeous display of colorful wildflowers, smiling as Nikki handed him a key. If this truly were their wedding weekend, he had just worked wonders. They’d pretty much booked the entire inn with all their guests. How had he managed to get a room?
Judging by the adoring look on Nikki’s face, he’d charmed it out of her. Viv wanted to rip the woman’s hair out. Which was ridiculous since Nikki was a friend and happily married.
He turned and caught sight of her. He rushed over to usher her down the hall and into the billiard room. At this time of night, it was blessedly empty, but the lingering scent of cigars and spilled beer reminded her that Gabe and his boys had spent—would spend?—quite a few hours playing pool this weekend.
“How’d you get a room? Aren’t they booked solid?”
“I told Nikki we were cousins of the groom.” He gestured to his face. “She didn’t have any trouble believing I was related. And I lucked out because Agnes happened by and swore I was cousin Jimmy.”
“Did Agnes curse you or hug you? With all the drama between Jimmy’s mom and your dad, I’ve never met him.” She’d heard the story over the years, of course. She knew all Gabe’s stories. His dad and aunt hadn’t gotten along since their parents died and his aunt made off with just about everything of value in the house while Gabe’s dad had been dealing with the funeral arrangements. It had been a bitter parting of ways, to say the least.
“Me, either. But Agnes decided I must have come to make the peace. She promised to save us seats at the rehearsal tomorrow night.”
“Great.” Viv rolled her eyes. “We’ll just stroll in—”
“Shh.” He put a finger over her lips. “Someone’s coming,” he whispered.
She strained to hear what he was talking about. A giggle, followed by a throaty laugh sounded right outside the door.
Her eyes went wide. “That’s us,” she hissed at him.
His head swiveled back and forth. His eyes scanned the room. “We have to hide.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her to a door she hadn’t noticed in the corner.
He yanked it open and pushed her inside. The closet barely had enough room for the two of them. Shelves lined each side, piled high with games on one half and plastic storage bins on the other.
They squeezed into the narrow area in the center. They hadn’t been this close in ages. Every inch of their bodies was forced together to fit into the tight space. Every breath she took pushed her breasts tighter to his chest and sent a tingle straight through her. The warmth of his breath added a flame to her already burning cheeks.
He pulled the door shut and plunged them into absolute darkness. The faint hint of light lining the bottom and top of the door did nothing to aid her sight.
His hand rested against her thigh where the doorknob jutted into her rear. She tried not to notice how she could feel every line of his hard body.
Or that a certain part of him was growing noticeably harder.
She concentrated on the sounds coming from the other room. Their younger selves made a drunken effort to whisper, which meant they could be heard clear as day.
“Stop that. I’m still angry with you.” Young Viv tried to sound stern, but the laughter in her voice ruined the effect.
Viv had forgotten her tendency to giggle when she got drunk.
“Aw, come on, baby. I made a joke. What’s the big deal?”
She rolled her eyes at the pleading note in young Gabe’s voice. He used to think he was being charming, but it always seemed more like begging to her. All in all, she’d been rather fond of it because it usually led to great makeup sex.
“Some joke. You asked for tips on how to get laid more often.”
“I was kidding. Nobody took me seriously. Besides, there’s no way. Two or three times every day? She was drunk and exaggerating.”
Her younger self giggled. “I knew she was drunk. I just didn’t realize she was that drunk.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s got his hands full trying to work things out wi
th her tonight.”
There was a slight thump, followed by more giggling and rustling noises.
“Oh, shit,” Gabe said under his breath.
“What?”
“Don’t you remember? After the party let out?”
Viv tried to remember. It was a long time ago, and she hadn’t exactly remained sober that weekend. “We had a fight…” She hadn’t remembered until now what the fight had been about, only that they’d had a major blowout days before the wedding.
It all seemed so trivial now. But back then, they’d fought so rarely, even a minor disagreement had seemed like a big deal. They hadn’t been able to stay mad at each other for long.
They rarely fought now, either, but only because Gabe walked on eggshells around her.
He wrapped her in his arms, distracting her from her thoughts. How could she remember the past, when he was pressed so tightly against her now? He shifted and his erection rubbed against her stomach. She stifled a groan.
It had been a really long time.
“I can’t remember what we fought about, but I remember making up,” he whispered.
The heat of his breath sent goose bumps chasing down her arm. She tilted her head and his hand cupped the back of her neck. He pressed light kisses against the sensitive spot behind her ear.
A loud groan from their younger selves startled her. She’d almost forgotten why they were stuck in this tiny closet.
“Someone could walk in on us.”
Her younger self’s statement echoed her thoughts. Did she want to be caught hiding in a closet? How exactly would they explain that?
“Who cares?” younger Gabe asked.
She’d forgotten how he’d gotten off on the threat of discovery. She had, too, if she were honest. She’d just enjoyed having Gabe work for it a little. He’d call her a tease, and she’d play it up.
She missed those days. Nothing else had mattered but each other.
Nausea rose up her throat and the bitter taste of bile hit the back of her tongue. She was going to be sick. What kind of a mother was she? How could she have forgotten, for a second, why those times had become a thing of the past?
Timeless Vows: Five Tales of Love (Timeless Tales Book 4) Page 10
