Two Words I'd Never Say Again

by Remi Carrington

  I blinked, snapping back to reality. “Do not play the martyr.” I finished my drink. “But after this weekend, will you please say something? Aunt Joji wants to send us on a second honeymoon.”

  “Crap. Saying no to her isn’t easy.”

  “You need to figure out how. I’m going to say goodnight to Haley and head to the room.” How was I going to make it through the weekend?

  Haley smiled and stepped away from the game as I approached. “You okay?”

  I hugged her. “Everything tonight has been beautiful. If you don’t mind, I’m going to head to my room. This dress is a mess.”

  “Hank told me about the room. I’m so sorry.”

  “We’ll be fine. I’ll throw a pillow at him if he snores.” Throwing pillows might happen whether he snored or not.

  Zach walked up, grinning. Being Hank’s best friend made him privy to the whole situation, but I never knew what he was thinking. He leaned in to hug me. “Give him a chance.” Whispered so even Haley couldn’t hear, his words twisted my insides into knots.

  Nodding, I turned and walked away in deliberate steps. Tears blurred my vision, and my one focus was making it to the cabin without crying in front of people. I’d given Hank a chance—I’d married the man, and then he chose a job opportunity over me. Time was supposed to heal all wounds, but the wound in my heart was still as raw and painful as the day he’d walked out the door, promising that the long-distance marriage wouldn’t be bad. What had changed in the last year was my ability to act like I was okay. I’d mastered it. Or so I thought.

  I even had Haley fooled.

  But if I didn’t get out of here, no one would be fooled. I’d already embarrassed myself enough tonight.

  I blinked. Wind gusted again, and I spun around, holding down the front of my dress.

  “Nacha!” Hank waved his arms.

  My defenses couldn’t handle talking to him right now. Forcing a smile, I closed my eyes, spun back around, and marched forward. The heel of my pump landed in a hole and snapped off. I grabbed at air as I toppled forward, and my feet flew out from under me. After only a split second of worrying about being upside down in a dress and how much it would hurt to land on the pebbled patio, my head plunged under the water.

  My nightmares became real.

  Gulping water, I kicked and flailed, struggling to find the surface. Why was this happening to me?

  After what felt like hours, cold air slapped my face, and I sucked in air before sinking back under the water. My skirt billowed out in a circle, putting everything underneath on public display. But I cared more about breathing . . . and not drowning.

  Regrets flashed before my eyes. The last fifteen months had been full of them.

  Feeling pulled under again, I moved my arms faster.

  “Don’t fight me. I’ve got you.” Hank wrapped a strong arm around me. “It’s a little cold for swimming, don’t you think? Or is pool water good for removing stains?”

  I grabbed at his shirt. “Don’t let me go.” Terrified of having my face back under the water, I gripped his neck and shoulder.

  In my head, he was a tree, and floodwaters were rising. I grabbed at him, trying to climb up high.

  “Um, Nacha, if you don’t calm down a little, we’ll both sink.” He peeled my fingers off his neck. “Trust me.”

  “I tried that once before.” Lashing out wasn’t helpful, but in my emotional state—something most people never saw—I couldn’t find nice words to say . . . even to the man who’d just saved me from drowning. But I stopped trying to climb him.

  “That’s better. I’ll get you out of here, then when we get back to our room, if you want to climb all over me, I’m completely open to that.”

  I slapped at his chest but only ended up splashing both of us.

  “I thought you didn’t like water in your face.”

  By the time we made it to the stairs at the shallow end, the dinner-party guests surrounded the pool.

  “Nacha, are you okay?” Haley sounded genuinely worried.

  Hank pulled me against him as I started to shiver. “She’s fine. Just a little drenched.”

  Aunt Joji waved everyone away. “She’s in good hands. Let her be.” She held out towels. “What do you need me to do?”

  Hank helped me out of the pool and wrapped a towel around me. “Stay with her a second. I’m going to dive in and grab our phones.”

  I waved at Haley. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene. I tripped.” Determined to get away, I trudged across the patio. The pebbles hurt my feet, and my beautiful shoes—part of them, at least—lay at the bottom of the pool.

  “Wait for Hank, dear.” Aunt Joji wrapped her skinny fingers around my arm. Fighting her wasn’t worth the effort.

  Drying my face with the towel, I waited.

  Hank waved off her offer of a towel as he climbed out of the pool. Dripping wet, he scooped me up. “Goodnight, Aunt Joji.”

  I pressed a hand to his chest, ready to demand that he put me down, but there was no fight in me. And his chest felt amazing. I leaned my head on his shoulder, no longer holding back my tears. “Why are you carrying me?”

  “Because that dress was not made for being worn wet and half of your heel is still stuck in the patio.”

  I didn’t want to think about the wet dress clinging to me in all the wrong places. “Thank you.”

  Hank’s shoes squished and squeaked as he carried me. And if the entire scene weren’t so horrible, I would’ve laughed at the trail of water we left behind.

  Hank was the only person at the party who knew about my fear of water, and he hadn’t hesitated to jump in and save me. “You scared me, Nacha. I tried to stop you, but you ignored me.”

  “I was hurrying away because I didn’t want anyone to see me upset.” A breeze whipped at us, and I snuggled closer. “They’ll assume I had too much to drink. It’s so embarrassing. What’s worse is that tonight is the first time I’ve had any alcohol since . . .” I glanced back toward the patio, hoping the festivities had returned to normal.

  Aunt Joji waved. Hank and I would be on display all weekend. And my dip in the pool only made it worse.

  “Please don’t cry.” He stopped on the porch and looked down at me, our faces only inches apart. “I’m sorry about everything. As soon as I change clothes, I’ll go find Aunt Joji and tell her we aren’t together anymore.”

  This weekend was about Haley and Zach, not me.

  I shook my head. “Not tonight. It can wait until after the wedding. Let’s not cause any more of a ruckus.”

  He shifted me in his arms. When he spoke, I could feel his breath tickling my lips. “I promise I’ll be good.” His eyes crinkled at the corners, an expression that always made my knees weak.

  If I moved even a fraction of an inch, our lips would meet.

  One thing hadn’t changed in fifteen months. Hank was hot. Maybe hotter than the day he walked out.

  Walked out.

  That thought jolted me back to reality. “You can put me down.”

  “Once we’re inside.” He dragged the keycard across the corner of the towel on my hip, then held it next to the little black box. Thankfully, the light turned green, and he opened the door. “It isn’t exactly a suite. I know Aunt Joji called it that, but . . .”

  I shoved on his chest, trying not to think about his well-defined pecs, the ones his wet shirt did little to hide. When my feet hit the floor, I whipped around.

  In the middle of the room a round jacuzzi tub was sunk into the floor. Above it, a crystal chandelier glowed, sending dapples of light dancing on the walls. A large king-sized bed sat at the far end of the room. Near the door, a love seat was positioned in front of a fireplace. And a bottle of champagne sat nestled in an ice bucket on the small table near the love seat.

  “There’s only one bed. And that isn’t even a full couch.”

  He chuckled as he unbuttoned his shirt. “I figured you’d mention the jacuzzi tub first.”

  “What are y
ou doing?”

  He looked at me like I was speaking a different language. “Taking off my wet clothes.”

  “Here?” I sounded unreasonable even to myself.

  “Would you rather I drip water all over the room? You don’t have to watch.” He shrugged off his dress shirt and let it puddle on the tile.

  You don’t have to watch. He was completely mistaken. I could pretend not to watch, but I did have to watch. Compelled was the word I’d use.

  “I think my luggage is still in Haley’s room.” I exercised my peripheral vision. “And my purse. It must be in the pool or maybe beside it.”

  He yanked off his t-shirt.

  I didn’t mean to sigh.

  His lips twitched at one corner, but other than that, he acted like he didn’t notice. Continuing to undress, he unbuckled his belt. “I brought your stuff in earlier. It’s on a luggage holder on the other side of the bed.”

  “You knew this was a quaint, romantic honeymoon cottage and didn’t tell me? Are you the one who ordered the champagne?”

  He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He did that when he was trying not to argue.

  Instead of saying something to pacify me, he inched closer. “You can’t stand champagne. Why would I order it? And for the record, this seemed like a better place to have our little couples spat. Are you going to get out of your clothes or just stand there pretending not to watch me?”

  The Hank riddled with self-pity wasn’t attractive. But this one—the one who snapped back and called my bluff, the one who knew me—still made me heart go flippity-flop.

  It would be a long weekend.

  Chapter 2

  “Now that you’ve changed, go out to the patio for a minute.” I pointed at the back door, forcing my teeth not to chatter.

  He shook his head. “I’m leaving. You can change without worrying about what I’ll see.” He yanked on a sweatshirt.

  “Where are you going? You’re in the wedding. You’re the one giving her away. You can’t leave. Haley would be crushed. And Zach would never forgive you.” Desperate to change his mind, I hurried toward him.

  “Careful! It’s slick.” Hank had a knack for timing his warnings all wrong.

  Slipping, I grabbed for the nearest thing to keep me from falling. Clutching handfuls of Hank’s sweatshirt, I steadied myself.

  He wrapped an arm around my waist. “Miss me, do you?”

  Lying through my teeth, I shook my head. “No. Let me go.” Then I grabbed him again. “But you can’t leave. Please don’t.”

  “I’m a bit hurt that you think I’d miss their big day. I’m leaving temporarily to go find rice. I’m hoping my phone is salvageable.”

  “Oh.” I’d made a fool of myself. Again.

  His gaze swept over my dress. “I’m not sure what you’re worried about me seeing. That wet dress doesn’t hide much.” He winked. “While I’m gone, you can take that off and shower in privacy.”

  Earlier, every little thing Hank did was tainted with a hint of an apology. He’d acted that way since I’d served him with divorce papers—every message and every encounter. But after rescuing me, the confident man I’d married showed up again. Could he see the effect he had on me?

  “Will you get enough for my phone too?”

  “Sure.” He jingled his keys, then disappeared out the door.

  The room seemed colder without him in it.

  I peeled off my dress and let it fall next to Hank’s clothes. The wet mess would still be there after my hot shower.

  With the bathroom door closed and hot water streaming from the shower head, the room filled with steam. I stepped under the hot water and pulled in a deep breath. Slowly releasing the breath while water cascaded over my hair and down my body, I found my center. My muscles thanked me for relaxing.

  After standing in the warmth for a few minutes, I washed my hair, cleaned up, and stepped out of the shower. With a plush white towel wrapped around me, I stepped out of the bathroom. Humming, I crossed the room, leaned over my suitcase, and found something suitable for sleeping. I hadn’t packed with company in mind.

  “Ahem. Want me to leave again?” Hank’s voice held a tease I hadn’t heard in far too long. But it wasn’t welcome right now.

  Without turning around, I tugged at the bottom edge of the towel. “I didn’t know you were back.”

  “Must’ve been a nice, long shower.”

  I gathered clothes into my arms. “It was relaxing.” How long had I been in there?

  “I miss you, Nacha.” The gravel in his voice sent heat radiating over my skin. “I’m not sure what happened to the woman I married. You’ve walled yourself off. And I miss you so much it hurts.”

  My carefully constructed walls weren’t keeping out my pain tonight. A conversation about what had happened was long overdue, but we couldn’t talk here. Not the night before the wedding. “I can’t talk about that right now. Not dressed in a towel in this romantic cabin. I just can’t.” I turned and met his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  He gave me a weak smile, but there was a sadness filling his gaze. “I guess suggesting you take off the towel would only get me in trouble.”

  “Hank, I—”

  “Go get dressed. Then we can sit here by the fire and talk about something else.”

  “I need to pick up—”

  “Already cleaned up the wet mess. Our clothes are hanging on the back patio. Your purse is on the table. It landed beside the pool.”

  “Thank you.” I slipped back into the bathroom. The pajamas I brought were very short and almost see through. What seemed suitable moments ago wasn’t what I wanted to wear while sitting beside Hank in front of a romantic crackling fire.

  “Need to borrow one of my t-shirts?” If the man was so good at reading my mind, why hadn’t he admitted that he never should have left?

  “Yes, please.”

  When he knocked, I opened the door wide enough to stick out my arm. He pushed soft cotton into my hand.

  His shirt was so big, it fell to the hem of my floral, lace-trimmed pajama shorts. But it was much better than the thin, white camisole top that went with the set.

  I pulled open the door.

  “They had a bottle of the Spanish red wine you like.” Dressed in pajama pants and a threadbare t-shirt, he held out a glass.

  Walking around the jacuzzi and past the little sofa, I accepted the glass on my way to the hearth. “This fire feels good.”

  “Thought you might like it after your swim.” He took a swig of his favorite beer. “Our phones are buried in rice in that plastic container over there.”

  “Thanks.”

  Quiet seconds ticked by.

  He stared at the fire, and I sipped my wine.

  If we were going to talk, I’d have to start a conversation. “How has it been with Zach dating Haley? I know her side. You weren’t exactly excited about the relationship in the beginning.”

  He tilted his head back and chuckled. “After being such a jerk, I’m surprised Haley forgave me. But it’s been good. I know things will change even more after tomorrow.”

  “I can’t imagine you and Zach not being friends.”

  “Me either.” He picked at the corner of the label. “I want them to be happy. I don’t want them to end up . . .”

  Like us. I waited, giving him all the time he needed to finish the sentence, but he never did.

  Hank rubbed his face. “Zach is completely smitten. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s shown up at the house with flowers.”

  “Girls like flowers, Hank.”

  “In the beginning, yes. But even after he’d proposed, he kept bringing them. She’d already said yes.” He shrugged. “But what do I know?”

  “No one can accuse you of being a sappy romantic.” I pulled in another sip of my wine and closed my eyes as the flavors came alive on my tongue. “Do you like working for the department in Schatz County?”

  “Well enough.” He finished off his beer. “I boug
ht a deck of cards. Want to play?”

  “War is about all the strategy I can handle tonight.”

  “Well, come sit over here. We can’t play with you all the way over there.”

  I moved to the love seat. “Need me to shuffle?”

  “Don’t trust me?”

  “I think we covered that earlier tonight.”

  He ended the shuffle with a bridge, then cut the deck with one hand. “I did get us out of the pool.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  He dealt the cards. “Ace is high.”

  “I know how to play war.” I took another sip of wine, then set my glass on the little table.

  “Clearly.”

  Trying not to start a fight, I ignored his comment. “What happened to the champagne?”

  “I gave it to someone who’d want it.”

  “Who?”

  He turned over his top card. “Does it matter?”

  “Not really. I was just curious who you’d been talking to.” I flipped over my top card, then slid both cards face up onto the bottom of my deck.

  “Aunt Joji.” He laid a card on the cushion.

  “Why did you give it to her? I don’t want her to be hurt that we didn’t want it.”

  He shook his head. “I simply told her you didn’t like champagne. Why would that hurt anyone’s feelings?”

  “I just don’t want her to think I’m ungrateful.”

  “She doesn’t. Are you going to make me sleep on the floor? There’s no way I’ll fit on this little sofa.”

  “Play the game.”

  “That would be easier to do if you’d put down a card.” A teasing smile cut across his handsome face. “Am I distracting you?”

  I slapped a card onto the cushion. “I win again.”

  Over and over, we threw down cards. He won as often as I did.

  “Both sevens. This means war!” Hank laughed and put three cards face down before adding the last card face up. When he saw the ace, he smacked the cushion just as I put my cards down.