As promised, he lets us grill him over the meal. He has a younger sister, his mother died a few years ago, he doesn’t come to Vegas very often, but this weekend it was convenient because he had been in California the week before. His favorite color is dark green, and I blush as I realize the color of my dress is his favorite. The fact that it looks amazing but is also his favorite is somehow a sweet coincidence.
I didn’t look at the dress when I put it on, I didn’t look at the label, and I was so overwhelmed that I didn’t even really think about the fact that he had a dress delivered for me in the middle of the night or that he let me choose out a diamond—any diamond—without question. “Where did you get the dress?” I ask.
“Marchesa,” he says. “Their store here is near the jewelry store and it gave me the idea.”
Which means the dress I’m wearing is easily over a thousand dollars. At least. Wow. I sit back in my chair. “This is insane.”
Will grins. “Why?”
“Because I’m an accountant. I do people’s taxes and I don’t get paid very much for it. I’m not used to wearing dresses that cost a month’s salary.”
He doesn’t do anything, just smirks. I know what that little smile is saying too, that as long as I’m with him, I might as well get used to it.
Everyone finishes their meals, and Will calls a car for all of us, swinging by our (much less expensive) hotel to check out and gather our things. And I finally get to put on a pair of underwear and not worry about the fact that I might ruin the most expensive piece of clothing I’ve ever owned because Will unexpectedly arouses me, or I get too carried away remembering last night and how he made me feel.
Car is a poor excuse for what carries us to the airport. It’s a limo, and the driver takes our bags and arranges them in the back while we all pile inside. Will settles his arm around my waist, pulling me close, and I like it. I like the way our bodies behave with each other, the intimate familiarity. Maybe it was a good thing that we met the way we did—when our intention was just sex. We got that tension out of the way, and at the very least, touching is common ground. It’s easy. I don’t think the rest of it will be as easy as he thinks, but one can hope.
As if he’s reading my thoughts, Will turns his head and presses a kiss to my forehead. I close my eyes, examining the feelings that rise up in my chest. Longing and desire and comfort. It’s strange that these things are so strong. Wyatt never made me feel them with this kind of intensity. I don’t know if it’s because he broke my heart that I can’t remember, or because he never actually inspired that kind of emotion in me. Which makes me wonder, if he never did, why was I with him for so long? What kind of relationship did we have if a man I’ve known for one day can make me feel more than Wyatt did in two years? The anger bubbles up, but now it’s grappling for attention with my own confusion and the desire that I have for Will. It’s exhausting.
I open my eyes to see Anna looking at the two of us. She’s taking everything in from the way Will’s arm is tucked around my waist to the way I’ve relaxed against him. Seeing me looking, she gives me a small smile. I understand her wariness and I’m grateful for it. If anyone is going to keep me safe, it’s Anna. She would have tracked down Wyatt and done him some serious bodily harm if I had let her.
We pull into the airport, but not into the terminal like regular passengers. It is exactly like the movies where we head directly out onto the tarmac where the plane is waiting. The driver of the car passes our bags to the flight staff as we board. My friends are whispering and giggling, and I don’t blame them. This isn’t exactly how we thought we’d be going home today. It’s more than overwhelming. As we board the plane behind them, a thought strikes me, and I turn to face Will as he finishes climbing the stairs. “If you want to give this a try, how is it going to work if we’re long distance.”
“We’re not,” he says lightly. “I’m from New York too.”
“How do you know I’m from New York?”
“You told me,” he says, “last night, over champagne and strawberries. This was before the wedding. It’s one of the reasons I agreed.”
He moves to walk past me, and I grab his arm, stopping him. “Wait, ‘agreed?’”
“Agreed to marry you. It was your idea.”
He moves past me and tells the pilot we’re ready to take off, leaving me gawking in the galley of the plane.
5
The girls have all taken seats around a table when I enter the cabin. I approach, thankful that they’re at one end of the cabin, and that Will and I will have some relative privacy at the other end. “I need to ask Will some questions about exactly what happened last night. I’ll wave to you guys if I need a rescue or something.”
Anna nods. “A bird call or smoke signal would be appropriate.”
“Noted,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face.
Will comes into the cabin, and I gesture with my head to the other end of the plane. “We need to talk.”
“Okay.”
I take a seat near a window at the back of the plane, and he sits across from me. “I need you to tell me what happened last night. What I said, what exactly happened. Because I agreed to give this a shot, but I can’t do that if I keep getting blindsided by stuff like ‘getting married was your idea.’”
“That seems fair,” Will says, settling forward with his elbows on his knees. “Tell me how much you remember.”
I lean forward too, and now are faces are close and I’m distracted by the scent of his cologne and the proximity of his lips. “I remember the club, and the private room, and everything that happened in there.” A blush creeps up my cheeks, but I have to get through this. “I remember your hotel room, and the sex. At least the first two times we had it. After that it gets a bit fuzzy. If I try hard I can remember glimpses of champagne. Nothing after that until the morning.”
“Where you saw your ring while you had my cock in your mouth?” My cheeks turn even brighter, and he reaches out to stroke his fingers down one. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
“I’m just not…I’m not used to talking about sex so openly.”
“Hopefully that will change,” he grins. “You’re right. When your memory goes fuzzy is when we ordered room service. You were hungry. While we ate and drank, you told me more about yourself. You told me that you’re from New York, and while you live in the city, your family is from Long Island. You told some funny stories about you and your sister, and the fact that you love Mexican food.” His voice falters and he looks at me, and I feel a sense of dread, like what he’s going to say next isn’t good.
“You told me about your relationship with Wyatt, and about everything that happened. How you didn’t see it coming, and how broken-hearted you were. Are.” He swallows. “You cried. I did my best to comfort you, even though I think what I did was far from adequate. And when you were finished, you said that just being married was one of the things you were looking forward to most. The normalcy of it.”
I laugh to hide my anger that I broke down like that. That I let Wyatt get to me, and because now I’m married and there isn’t anything normal about it.
“And that’s when the idea hit you. You lit up like a firework, and you said that we should get married. I already knew that I liked you, that I liked you more than anyone I had met in a long time, and down in my gut I knew it was a good idea, so I said yes. I took you to the jewelry store, they opened it for us because I own the hotel, and I let you pick the ring you wanted.” He takes my hand and turns it so that the diamond sparkles in the light from the window. “Like I told you, we couldn’t get matching rings right away, but you didn’t care. We went straight to the chapel. It was fast, but sweet. We kissed, signed the papers. When we got back to the hotel, I carried you inside.”
There’s a little bit of emotion in his voice. “I made love to you, and we fell asleep together. You remember everything else.”
I clear my throat. “Thank you for telling me.”
&n
bsp; “I’m sorry you don’t remember,” he says, “I really am. I wish you did, because you were so happy. I wish there was a way to show you.”
“No,” I say. “I believe you.”
Will’s thumb runs along the edge of my palm, the tiny intimate gesture sending shivers across my skin. “Have you ever had a feeling so deep and so strong that you knew with everything in you that what you were doing was right?”
“I thought so. I was wrong.” So dreadfully wrong. And now my sister is fucking my ex-fiancé and I’m married to a millionaire.
He looks down at our connected hands. “I know that this isn’t what you really want, but I have that feeling about us. I feel it, deeper than I’ve ever felt anything, that we fit together. Thank you for giving it a chance.”
I nod, drawn in by his words. When he says things like that, it’s so easy to believe it. “I want to feel what you’re feeling. I want to be that sure about someone. About you. But after Wyatt, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to feel that sure again.”
Will’s hand comes up to cup my face. “I’ll do my best to prove it to you for as long as you’ll let me. Will you let me do that?”
“Yes.” It’s not quite the same as I do, but I feel the bond of commitment as I say the word. We’re going to try this. A wholly unconventional marriage between strangers.
“Can I kiss you?”
The way he asks, soft and not entirely sure, makes my heart flutter in my chest. I nod, and he closes the small distance between us to press his lips to mine. I can feel the emotion behind his kiss, that he’s grateful I’m not leaving, that I’m giving him a chance. I can feel how desperately he wants this. Wants us.
A phone chime interrupts our kiss, and Will pulls away apologetically. “Should I have some champagne brought out for you and your friends?”
“More champagne? How can I resist? I am on a private plane after all.”
He grins at me, pulling his phone from his pocket as he stands and heads into a cabin behind me. I feel much more settled after our conversation, and since I’m here, I might as well enjoy it. With that thought in my head, I head toward the front of the plane to join my friends.
6
The hours on the plane go by quickly, and all too soon we’re landing at JFK. We’re all a little tipsy from the bottomless champagne, but I don’t think there would be a better way to end this trip than tipsy. After all, being drunk was kind of the theme. We exit down onto the tarmac, and our baggage is being taken to black cars that are there to meet the plane. Will comes down after the rest of us, the look on his face not a happy one. He was on the phone for most of the flight, and when I asked him what he was doing, he barely had time to tell me it was business calls.
Not surprising. Running Emerald Hotels can’t be a small endeavor. But he looks unhappy and upset now, and compared to the carefree Will I’ve seen in the past day, it’s a harsh contrast. He meets me at the bottom of the stairs and tucks his arm around my waist. Even in my heels I have to look up to meet his eyes. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he says, but it’s not convincing. “Just some unpleasant business decisions. I’ll be able to tell you soon, but it’s too involved for out here on the tarmac.” He sighs. “I thought I was going to be able to take you home, but I have to go straight to the office. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Okay.” I’m surprised by the confusion I feel. After being so close to him, the idea of going home to my empty apartment seems daunting. But this is also good. We’re not jumping straight into living together, which I think would be too much. Why can’t I have a single straightforward feeling?
Will cups the back of my neck, tilting my face up to meet his as he kisses me in a way that leaves me absolutely breathless. Without him having to say it, I know he’s kissing me in a way I’ll remember all night long. He is entirely successful. I’m not quite steady on my feet when he lets me go, and he presses a small kiss to my hands before he heads to his car and driver.
Naomi comes over, waving her hand by her face like she’s hot. “Damn. That kiss was straight out of the movies.”
“I think that was the point,” I say, the memory of the kiss swimming up into my chest and making me feel light.
“Where is he going?” Elizabeth asks.
“His office. Apparently all the calls were some kind of problem.”
Anna smirks. “Too bad, guess night one of the honeymoon won’t be as hot as either of you hoped.”
I blush, and she laughs. “I’m kidding, but not that much.”
A man in a sleek suit comes over to our group. “Mrs. Herrington?”
It takes me a moment to realize that he is, in fact, talking to me. “Right. That’s me.”
“I’ve been instructed to take you home, and each of your friends has a car as well. Just let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
“Thank you…” I trail off, not knowing what to call him.
He nods his head in a kind of salute. “Simon, Ma’am.”
“Thank you, Simon. I’ll be right there.”
As Simon heads back towards the car, I look around at my friends, my eyes wide. “Holy hell, I have no idea if this is going to work out, or if tomorrow I’ll wake up and realize how stupid this is, but it might be fun while it lasts.”
“I say enjoy it,” Naomi says. “Best. Revenge. Ever.”
Anna makes a face. “That’s true, but if she’s only doing it to get revenge on Wyatt, that’s not a good enough reason, and not fair to Wilcox.”
“Do you really like him?” Elizabeth’s voice is quiet.
That now familiar confusion and attraction rise in my gut. “I think I do. And I don’t think there’s any harm in just getting to know each other for a few days. We can always undo it.”
She nods her head, and we’re all quiet for a moment. “Well,” Anna says, glancing at the setting sun, “I’m exhausted and I need a vacation to recover from my vacation. So we should all get some sleep, and maybe meet up on Wednesday for our normal drinks?”
“Sounds good to me,” I say.
“We will expect a full report on Mr. Delicious,” Naomi says, emphasizing her words. “A full report. No details left out, just like we would have asked you if he hadn’t shown up this morning.”
I’m laughing now. “Fine.”
We all disperse to our separate cars, waving like princesses and giggling like maniacs. Simon is holding the door open for me to the giant black car, and he helps me into it. It takes him a second to get around to the driver’s seat, and he asks “Where are we going, Mrs. Herrington?”
“Oh, right.” I give him the address of my apartment on the Eastside, and off we go. The familiar skyline of New York passes me by as we drive from Queens to Manhattan, and the comfort of being home lulls me. I doze on and off as we drive, only coming back fully awake when Simon stops driving in front of my apartment building.
Simon opens the door for me, my suitcase already in his hand. I don’t argue as he carries it up the three flights of stairs and wishes me a good night. I think I say good night to him, but I’m so tired that it probably doesn’t sound like English. I can barely keep my eyes open. The events of the past day have taken it out of me completely, and I can barely find the strength to take off my shoes as I flop down onto the bed and slip peacefully into darkness.
* * *
The ringing of my phone wakes me the next morning. I sit straight up, confused for a second about where I am. I’m in my apartment, still in the Marchesa sundress, which is probably ruined from me passing out in it. My phone is ringing from the other room, still in my purse where I dropped it last night. I retrieve it just as it stops ringing. I have enough time to see that it’s a call from my mother before the battery goes dead. Not surprising, considering the past couple of days. I grab my charger and return to my bedroom, booting up my laptop on my desk while I plug the phone in.
My ring catches my eye while I wake up the computer, and I hold out my hand to examine it.
I didn’t really want to seem preoccupied with it while Will was around, but it really is gorgeous, and it does look exactly like something I would pick out if given the choice. One diamond in the swirl of other, smaller diamonds for an ethereal and non-traditional look.
Well, now that I have some time to myself, it’s time to do some research on my brand new husband. I pop open the search engine and enter his name. Wilcox Herrington. Thank god I can call him Will. Also, thankfully, there aren’t any news stories about our Vegas marriage. If my family had found out through the news I think I would be disowned.
Everything else is just like he told me. The newly minted CEO of Emerald Enterprises, taking over from his father. One younger sister, mother deceased. There aren’t many personal details, he hasn’t done many interviews, and the ones I find are mainly about the business. But in every one he has that same charisma that I’ve seen in him. There aren’t any news stories about scandals or tabloid photos of him with women. All in all, it seems too good to be true.
My stomach growls and I grab a bowl of cereal from the kitchen. I haven’t heard from him since last night, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing. This morning I know for sure that Will is right. There is something between us. I feel a pull toward him that I can’t explain, and I miss him even though we’ve barely been apart, or even together.
The phone pulls enough battery to turn on, and the chime of a voicemail sounds immediately. It’s my mother, telling me to call her right away. I’m in the process of calling her back when the phone rings in my hand. Not shockingly, it’s her.
“Hey, Mom.”
She doesn’t sound pleased. “Why didn’t you answer before? I left you a couple of messages.”
“Sorry,” I say through a bite of cereal. “My phone died. It just came back on.”
Big Man’s Happily Ever After Page 11
