Rumors: Brianna & Hunter

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Rumors: Brianna & Hunter Page 7

by Rachael Brownell


  "Dude, seriously?"

  Ryder's voice echoes off the walls of the hall.

  "How the hell did you get in?" Hunter asks, walking past me and smacking me playfully on the butt as he does.

  "Hide-a-key. Let's go or we're going to miss our damn plane. You can flirt with your wife later."

  "Someone didn't get any this morning," Hunter practically sings.

  Ryder grumbles as he takes the bag from my hand and stomps out the door. Hunter may be on to something. Ryder isn't normally this grouchy. The last time I saw him this pissy was right after he found Megan in bed with Jared. Since then, he's been in a good mood, mostly.

  The ride to the airport is silent. Emerson is sitting in the back with me, looking out the window. Ryder's focused on the road, letting out little huffs every now and again. I'm watching the two of them, attempting to interpret what might be going on, but before I can say anything, my bossy husband demands to know what's going on.

  "Spill it," he says as Ryder pulls up to the parking attendant.

  "Mind your own business," Emerson snaps.

  "This is my business. You two are never like this, and this trip is supposed to be exciting. If you two suck the fun out of my vow renewal, I'm going to be irate, and you don't want to see me like that. So, either get it out now, let it go, and move on, or we can sit in the car and miss our plane because I'm not going if you two can't act like adults."

  And just like that, my husband put both of them in their place.

  "I'm sorry," Emerson mumbles.

  "Me too," Ryder replies as he slides into a parking spot.

  "Not good enough. What were you fighting about?"

  Hunter's moved from Mr. Bossy Pants to nosey.

  "It's really not important. Let's get inside and checked in. We're fine, I promise. Right, Em?"

  "Yeah. We're good." Her voice holds little reassurance, but she's out of the car before Hunter can call her out.

  The guys grab our bags while Emerson and I head inside to get in line. The airport is buzzing this morning, and it's going to take a while to get our tickets.

  "Be honest with me," I start as soon as we're far enough ahead of the guys I'm positive they can't hear us. "Are you guys okay?"

  "We are. I'm not even that mad. He just needs to learn to tell me things."

  "What'd he lie about? The Dixon brothers hate secrets and lies."

  "All the money I've been giving him for rent and bills and food, every dime, he put aside. I haven't really been contributing at all, and that pisses me off. I don't need him to take care of me, Brianna. I can take care of myself, but apparently he doesn't think so. And this trip… I gave him my credit card to get my ticket, and he didn't use it. He paid for everything."

  She's right. She's not mad; she's hurt.

  "Listen," I start, pulling her to a stop just outside the terminal. "It's what they do. All three of them. They want to take care of the people they love. They need to, it's how they're wired. It comes from a good place, I promise. If it bothers you this much, find something good to do with that money. Start a saving fund for your next trip or a college fund for the little babies you'll have one day. But just know, he didn't do it to hurt you or because he thinks you can't take care of yourself. He did it because he can and wants to take care of you. Now and forever."

  Taking her hands in mine, I give them a little squeeze and twist her ring for emphasis.

  She gets the message, loud and clear, rushing over to Ryder and wrapping herself around him. It's funny. Ryder walked in on Hunter flirting with me and was grossed out. Yet, here he stands, outside a busy airport, making out with his Emerson as if no one is around. At least we were in the comfort of our own home.

  I have a feeling those two will spend most of the trip locked in their room, just like Hunter and I did during our honeymoon.

  Chapter Ten

  What's that song about toes in the sand? I feel like I should be singing it right now.

  My feet are being warmed by the tiny white granules as I smile up at the setting sun. My butt is planted firmly on the ground between Hunter's legs, and his arms are wrapped around me, protecting me from the little gusts of cool air that hit us every few minutes. It was a beautiful day here, what we were able to see of it anyway.

  Our connecting flight was delayed. Then it was overbooked. Hunter and I were able to get the last two seats on the plane, leaving the rest of our party behind to wait four hours for another flight.

  I contemplated waiting with them. So we could all fly in together. This is a group trip after all. They should be here, with their toes in the sand, watching the sun set over the ocean with us.

  Hunter must have seen the look in my eyes when the gate attendant called our names and only our names. He must have known what I was thinking. Wrapping his arm around me, he chose that moment to whisper dirty promises in my ear. Promises that he knew I would want him to make good on as soon as possible, which meant I would get on the plane and leave all our friends and family behind.

  My husband doesn't play fair sometimes.

  Still, they should be landing in a little less than an hour according to Megan. She sent me a text just before their plane took off. They'll miss the sunset, but there will still be time for drinks before bed. Since I felt bad about leaving them and their luggage took the same plane as us, we brought it all to the resort, checked them in, and it's waiting for them to arrive. All they have to do is get their keys from the front desk and meet us in the bar.

  "Are you hungry?" Hunter asks, shifting slightly, his arm brushing across my breasts, my nipple responding to the gentle touch.

  He made good on his promises the moment we were behind closed doors. That was hours ago, though. If my stomach weren't growling at the mention of food, I'd be dragging him inside for round two.

  "I'll take that as a yes," he chuckles, pushing himself off the sand then reaching down to help me up.

  "Food. Drinks. Friends." I say, enunciating each word loudly before lowering my voice to barely above a whisper. "Then sex."

  "I like the way you think. I may just have to make an honest woman out of you and marry you one day. Oh, wait…"

  Hunter's been making wedding jokes for days now. He thinks he's funny, but what he doesn't realize is that the thought of marrying him, again, is exciting to me. The idea that he's committing his life and his love to me for a second time warms my heart and that delicate spot between my legs.

  There was a time when I thought we wouldn't last. That he might leave me. Not because we were unhappy together but because of the one thing I couldn't give him. A baby.

  The thought still paralyzes me from time to time. There's a fear that lives deep down inside me that one day I'll wake up and he'll be gone. Empty hangers in the closet. Drawers cleared out, left open.

  My heart still breaks when I think about not being able to have a child with him. A little Hunter running around, causing chaos. When I think about what we don't have, I yearn for it. Constantly. It's my only focus, and it pulls me into the realms of darkness.

  Then Hunter will catch my eye, a sly grin on his face. One filled with dirty promises and I'm able to push the darkness away for a while. Living in the moment, celebrating what we have in life, becomes my new focus. And I try and hold onto times like that, like right now, for as long as I can.

  Heading into the bar, Hunter and I order a handful of appetizers to nibble on while we wait for everyone else to arrive as well as a drink. I turn the conversation away from where my mind is at, between the sheets, under my husband, and focus my attention on the days ahead. We’re meeting with their onsite coordinator tomorrow morning to finalize the details of the ceremony and reception. After that, we're free to tour the island and have a little fun.

  "What do you want to do first?" I ask, popping a deep-fried jalapeno bite in my mouth. "I booked us an island hopper boat tour tomorrow, but we can don't leave port until a little after eight o'clock."

  "What about a wine tour? Yo
u said something about that, right?"

  Hunter is a bit of a wine snob, so his suggestion surprises me. He claims he's just picky, but I've seen him turn away a perfectly great bottle of wine with the crinkle of his nose. A bottle that I would have no problem polishing off in a matter of hours.

  "There's a wine and foodie tour. I think they run every few hours. That could be fun."

  "I'm game for some wine," Megan chimes from behind me.

  When I turn around, all of our friends and family are standing at the entrance to the bar, smiles on their faces.

  "You're here!" I screech, running to her and pulling her in for a hug.

  "Finally. I swear that airline is the most unorganized—"

  "Stop," Vinnie snaps at her. "It's over. We're here. Let's just enjoy vacation."

  I have a feeling this isn't the first time she's complained about the airline, and I'm sure it won't be the last. I'll find a way to make it up to her, or I'll send her to talk to Zane once he arrives tomorrow afternoon. He's the one who made the reservations after all.

  Hunter and the guys head to check everyone into their rooms, leaving us girls to make plans. Ally goes with them since her room is in her name, her date following her so he's not left with a gaggle of girls who've already started talking about wine tours and wedding details.

  "Did you find something?" I whisper to Megan.

  "Yeah. It's in my bag. I'll hold onto it until the ceremony."

  "What is it?"

  "Don't worry about it."

  Telling someone not to worry is like telling someone not to breathe. All I'm going to do is worry until I know what she got for Hunter. This is a big deal to me. The gift has to mean something. It can't be too big or too small. It has to be perfect, and if I had been on my game this past week, it would have been because I would have picked it out myself.

  When I notice the guys walking back in the bar, I try and push my anxiety aside. I have to trust Megan for now, but that doesn't mean I won't worry about it.

  We move our party outside to enjoy the last few hours of the day. The sun is beyond the horizon now, but the cool breeze stuck around. After a few glasses of wine, Herman and Margoret turn in for the night after announcing that they're hosting breakfast for everyone tomorrow morning at the restaurant.

  Ally and Chris, her date, turn in next. She looks upset about something, and he appears to be oblivious about it. Even if he hasn't learned her non-verbal cues yet, the irritation in her voice should be ringing loud and clear right now. If I were him, I wouldn't want to go back to the room with her. I have a feeling there's a fight brewing, and it's going to catch him by surprise.

  Justine is falling asleep in Devon's arms, so he picks her up, tosses her over his shoulder, and follows Ally out of the restaurant. Justine giggles like a little girl as she waves at us. Those two are adorable.

  Our group has shrunk down significantly, so we all scoot closer together around the small firepit. Hunter claims one of the small loveseats for us and pulls me close. Angela and Tyler are on the other loveseat across the fire from us. To their left are Megan and Vinnie, sharing an over-sized chair. To their right are Emerson and Ryder, each with their own chair. For now.

  "I'm exhausted," Emerson says, stretching her arms above her head. "Flying always makes me tired."

  "Come here," Ryder motions to Emerson. She willingly moves to share Ryder's chair, crawling in his lap and resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. "What did you ladies decide we're doing tomorrow?"

  My head whips in Megan's direction out of habit, and I notice she's not even paying attention to them. She's lost in her own world, one that revolves around Vinnie and his bald head right now.

  Good for her.

  Maybe she should stop drinking wine, though. She's rubbing his head and whispering in his ear. There's a smirk on his face that tells me he likes what she’s saying.

  "I think we're going to do the wine and foodie tour, right Megan," Angela states loudly, drawing Megan's attention away from Vinnie and to the conversation.

  "Yes. If Herman and Margoret are hosting breakfast, we can catch the one o'clock tour and be back here in plenty of time to get ready for the island tour."

  "That sounds perfect. Zane should be here about four o'clock, I think, so we can meet up before we get on the boat," Hunter says, squeezing my hand gently.

  "Who?" Angela asks.

  "Zane. Hunter's best friend from college. He's the one that made all the travel arrangements for us," Tyler explains.

  "So that's who I need to talk to about the shitty flight," Megan retorts, sitting straight up, her irritation with their flight bringing a scowl to her face.

  "Babe, the only person you need to talk to about the flight is me. Now, let it go and relax. You're on vacation, remember," Vinnie says, pulling her back against him. She relaxes instantly, but the scowl remains.

  "Zane is standing up for Hunter, so you better be nice to him, Meg." My words are meant to sound casual, but there's a hint of irritation in them that I can't hide. A clear warning for Megan to stop bitching about it and to not bring it up with Zane.

  Yes, the issue with the airline sucked. Especially for them. That's not his fault. In fact, our party might be the reason the flight was overbooked to begin with. We made last-minute plans.

  Emerson quickly changes the topic of conversation to the ceremony, asking if there's anything she can do to help. I appreciate the offer, especially after the amazing job she did planning Angela's wedding, so instead of blowing her off, I invite her to the meeting with the coordinator in the morning. If nothing else, she can see it's all under control.

  "Shouldn't you be worried about your wedding? Have you guys even set a date yet?" Angela asks.

  "Not yet, but we have a few ideas."

  "By ideas, she means she can't make up her mind," Ryder teases.

  "If I'm only going to get married once, it's going to be the best damn wedding in the universe, and part of that is deciding on the season."

  "The season?" I interject.

  "Yeah. I've always wanted a summer wedding, but it's so humid sometimes. Then I was thinking about maybe a winter wedding, but what if it snows and none of the guests can make it? Plus, I kind of want to get married outside, I think. Ang and Ty were married in the spring, and it was beautiful, but the weather is unpredictable. That leaves fall, and I'm not sure I want my colors to be brown and orange."

  Not sure how to respond, I look to Angela for help. She shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head.

  "You think I'm crazy. I can see it. All of you. I can't help it if I'm indecisive." Emerson is getting defensive. She shouldn't have to defend herself, especially to any of us.

  "Em, I think you might be putting a little too much pressure on yourself. Why don't you look at venues, see what dates they have available, and then go from there? No matter what season you pick, I'm sure it's going to be amazing."

  All eyes turn and focus on Megan as the words leave her mouth. Ryder's bottom jaw is slack, and there are tears in Emerson's eyes. Of everyone sitting here right now, she would have been the last person I’d expect to talk Emerson off the ledge.

  "What?" she asks when no one looks away.

  And she doesn't even realize she just did it. She really has changed. For the better.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Margoret said breakfast, I imagined something simple like eggs and toast. I should have known better. I've been to her soirees over the years. They're far from simple.

  A birthday party for one of her sons? Fifty to one hundred of their closest acquaintances with a live band.

  Family dinner? Two chefs hired just for the occasion to serve a five-course meal.

  But when it came time to meet everyone for breakfast, I didn't expect to walk around a line of waiting patrons to a private dining room. Fully decorated in our original wedding colors—teal and heather gray. A large rectangular table in the center of the room draped in soft white linen, adorned with three gi
gantic centerpieces.

  Stunning. Just like every other gathering Margoret has ever planned.

  Then there was the private chef off to the side, waiting patiently for everyone to arrive. We seem to be the last ones. There are only two empty chairs at the head of the table.

  "There's the happy couple!" Margoret announces as soon as we enter the room, catching the attention of all our guests.

  "Mom," Hunter begins, giving my hand a squeeze.

  The point of coming here to renew our vows was to be low-key. We didn't want anything fancy. We already had the big wedding with all the fancy extras. This is more about the place, it being special to us, and the people invited.

  "This is nice, but it's a bit much, don't you think?" he asks, approaching her slowly. Each step is calculated, cautious. I can see his back tighten the closer he gets. He doesn't want to offend his mother, but he also needs her to know that this isn't what we wanted.

  All eyes are darting between Hunter and Margoret. Waiting for her response.

  "It is, and your father tried to talk me down a bit, but I refused to listen." Herman shrugs his shoulders, a look of contempt on his face. "Don't you try and scold me either. I can do whatever I want for whomever I want. Deal with it, child. I'm your mother. Now, sit down and eat."

  The entire room lets out a breath in unison as Hunter pulls out a chair for me, bringing a smile to Margoret's face. She's won this round. She wins every round. No one wants to fight with her for fear of losing. It's a constant battle, and if you're smart, you wave your white flag before it even begins.

  Omelets. French toast. Grits. Eggs. Corned beef.

  You name it, it's on someone's plate at this table.

  My personal favorite… Johnnycake. I ate it every morning when we were here on our honeymoon, and I've been looking forward to having it again since I started planning this trip. It's a cross between soda bread and southern corn bread.

  After my belly is full, I lean back in my chair and eavesdrop on the many conversations happening around me. Emerson and Angela are discussing wedding ideas with Margoret. For Em's sake, I hope she finds a way to keep Margoret out of the planning. Angela managed to somehow, so maybe she knows something I don't.

 

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