Under His Touch

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Under His Touch Page 15

by Cathryn Fox


  “What?” I ask.

  “I spent the last week trying to wrap my brain around your relationship with Alec.”

  My stomach cramps, and I set my wine down, ready to straighten out my friend on where Alec and I stand. “Amanda—” I begin, but she cuts me off.

  “No, really stop, Megan. Think about it. None of the women he dated were suitable. He couldn’t commit. Maybe he was holding out for you. I mean he did ditch that one girl and take you on that dirty limo ride.”

  “Amanda—” I try again but she stops me.

  “Maybe he’s in love with you, but is afraid to commit for some reason. Something is holding him back, I feel that in my gut and my gut never lies. Maybe he settled because he was desperate with the golf tournament coming up. Maybe he had no choice. I’ve seen him and Sara together, Megs. There is zero chemistry, whereas you two damn nearly vibrate when you’re near each other. The sparks. Insane.” She puts her hands by her head and makes an explosion sound.

  I pause for a moment, look past her shoulder and consider the heat between us. My entire body warms when I reminisce about the way he touched me, in and out of the bedroom. The stolen kisses, the way he couldn’t seem to keep his hands or his eyes off me whenever we were together. His touch was so achingly tender and at times possessive. The last time we were in bed it was like he needed to mark every inch of me. I quiver just thinking about it.

  Could Alec feel the same way about me as I do about him? Is something holding him back? If so, what? I let out a frustrated growl and I drop my head back on the sofa.

  “Maybe I’m just clinging to something that isn’t there. You of all people know I have a hard time letting go. Maybe I was good enough to have sex with, but not to marry. Maybe I don’t fit the criteria of what he needs in a wife.”

  “Maybe you need to talk to him to find out.” She sips her wine and swirls it in her glass. “Did you ever tell him you wanted more?”

  “No, actually I told him I didn’t want more from him.”

  “Maybe he’s working with that information.”

  My heart beats a little faster in my chest. Is there really a chance that Alec and I can be together? Is something holding him back, some deeper fear?

  “He’s getting married to Sara tomorrow,” I announce, my hope dwindling.

  Amanda sets her glass down, and meets my gaze unflinchingly. “I want you to answer me seriously, Megan. Do you love him?”

  Oh, God, I do. I love him so much. He’s the best guy I know.

  “Yes,” I answer honestly, and Amanda stands.

  “Get your purse,” she says, pulling her phone from her back pocket.

  “What?”

  “Get your purse. I’m getting you an Uber. You and Alec need to talk.”

  “Amanda—”

  “Stop overthinking this, girlfriend. Car’s on its way. Move it.”

  I climb from the sofa and stand on shaky legs. The truth is I do love Alec, and before he goes through with this sham of a wedding tomorrow, I have to talk to him, tell him how I feel. Otherwise I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting it and wondering what if...

  “Okay,” I say, my voice as shaky as my legs. I grab my purse, and feel equal measure of excitement and fear as Amanda walks me out the door, down the stairs and to the front of the building. As I stand there, I start to get cold feet. “Maybe this isn’t a good—”

  “Overthinking again,” she says, and holds her hand up to stop me. “You have to know, Megan. You can’t spend the rest of your life wondering what if.”

  “You’re right. I can’t.”

  An inky black car pulls up, and I slide into the backseat. “Text me,” Amanda says. “I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

  I give the driver directions, and fold nervous hands on my lap. Breathe, Megan, just breathe.

  I stare out the window and try to calm myself, a difficult task considering what I’m about to do. Will he be happy, mad? What about Sara? She’s looking forward to being on Alec’s arm. Can I do this to her? But Sara loves and cares about me. Surely if she knew how I felt, she’d want me to be with him. A short while later we pull up in front of his building, and I get out. My heart is in my throat as I walk up the stairs, forcing one foot in front of the other. Derek greets me at the door, but this time he doesn’t offer me a toothy grin. No, this time he looks a bit confused.

  “Megan, I wasn’t expecting you tonight,” he says, as he opens the glass door for me.

  “Some last-minute wedding things I need to discuss with the groom,” I say.

  “Very well.” He walks me to the elevator, inserts his key and I force myself to make small talk on the way up. I stammer a bit, and trip over my words. Is it any wonder? My damn brain is racing a million miles an hour.

  “Thanks,” I say when I step off. The elevator doors ping shut, and I stand in the hall and take a minute to pull myself together before I knock. I wait, but the door doesn’t open. Has the groom gone to bed already so he’ll be refreshed for the big day? I knock again, a bit louder this time, and slip my hand into my pocket to grab the key he gave me. Should I? I wait a few more minutes and when he doesn’t answer, I decide to let myself in.

  I open the door, and peer into the dark. “Alec,” I call out quietly. If he’s asleep, should I wake him? I tiptoe down the hall, and when I hear noises coming from his bedroom, I hurry my steps, but when I peer through the crack in his door, and find Sara in his arms, my vision goes fuzzy around the edges and I falter backward.

  I lean against the wall, brace my hands on my knees and mentally berate myself. Why, oh why did I come here? Alec isn’t in love with me. He currently has his arms wrapped around my cousin—his fiancée—like he’s anxious to get an early start on their honeymoon.

  Tears fall, and I swipe at them, hate them. Hate myself for believing there could be more between us. Amanda was wrong. James was wrong. Everyone was wrong, including me, and I never should have spent one minute thinking Alec could want me. I struggle to pull myself together, and when I finally get my legs working again, I retrace my steps, go out into the hall and lock up behind myself. I press the button for the elevator and pull my hair forward, not wanting Derek to see my red eyes. Grabbing my phone, I shoot Amanda a text.

  Megan: Still have that bottle of wine.

  Amanda: Oh no. Are you okay?

  Megan: Not even a little.

  Amanda: I’m so sorry Megs. I thought...

  Megan: Not your fault.

  I shove my phone back into my pocket when the elevator arrives, and I force myself to smile when the doors slide open.

  “That didn’t take too long,” Derek says.

  I clear my throat and hope to pull off casual. “Nope, all is good.”

  As if sensing my dark, shaky mood, Derek goes quiet and when we reach the lobby, I wave good-night and rush outside to draw a breath. I call for an Uber and by the time I reach my apartment, I’ve pretty much cried myself out. I slide from the vehicle and find Amanda waiting for me.

  “Hey,” I say, and when she pulls me in for a hug, more tears fall.

  “Come on. I have wine, and ice cream.”

  I let her guide me to my apartment, where we—and when I say “we,” I mean me—finish the bottle of wine, and eat the ice cream. The next thing I know, I’m waking up with a killer headache, the sun shining in through my open curtains. Beside me, Amanda is asleep, and my heart misses a beat, thankful that she stayed to take care of me.

  I glance at the clock and jolt upright. “Damn,” I say, and give my head a minute to settle. With so many last-minute things to pull together before the ceremony this afternoon, I shake Amanda.

  She groans, and I say, “We need to get moving.”

  Her lids flutter open. “Right,” she says. “I’m moving.”

  “I need to shower,” I say.

  �
�Me, too.” She sits up and rubs her eyes. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” I lie, wanting to busy my mind with the ceremony.

  “You want to ride to the country club in the van with me? I’ll make Jeremy sit in the back with the food and you can ride up front with me.”

  “No, I need to go earlier. I’ll Uber and meet you there.” I turn from her, unable to face the worry in her eyes as she looks at me.

  I make my way to the shower to clean myself up, and once I’m washed and dried, I slide into a dress—presenting professional event planner—and glance at myself in the mirror. Ugh. With dark circles under my eyes, I look like a raccoon with a bad case of food poisoning. I stick my tongue out, groan some more and reach for my toothbrush. Feeling a little more human, I grab my purse, and make my way to the country club to ensure all the details are perfect for the wedding of the century.

  I busy myself, checking on the photographer, flowers, table settings, minister and everything else. It’s the only way I can get the image of Alec with his arms wrapped around Sara out of my mind. Soon enough the guests begin to arrive, and I hide in the back and help Amanda in the kitchen. Even though I’m probably more of a nuisance than an assistant. She’s got this catering thing down to a science and everything is warming in chafing dishes.

  “Stop worrying about me,” I say to Amanda, when I catch her watching me from the corner of her eye.

  “Okay, okay,” she says, and turns her attention to plating the hors d’oeuvres. I check my watch and leave the kitchen when I spot Sara, her maid of honor, Jessica, and Aunt Jeannie and Uncle Dave pull up in a limo. I swallow down the knot in my throat as she waves to me and I put on my best happy face.

  Looking gorgeous and radiant in her ball gown, the one I picked for her, she comes toward me. “We need to get you inside,” I say. “We can’t let the groom see you.” A groom I’ve been avoiding all day. I know he’s here, I feel his presence, can almost smell his hypnotizing scent. I usher Sara and Jessica inside the country club, while her mom and dad head off to mingle before the ceremony begins in less than fifteen minutes.

  “We need to talk,” Sara says to me, the seriousness in her tone sending sparks of worry down my spine. “Jessica, do you mind. I need to talk to Megan alone.”

  “No problem,” Jessica says, and steps away, her pretty lavender dress swishing as she turns.

  Sara puts her hands on my shoulders. “I can’t go through with this,” she says. “In fact, I never ever planned to go through with it. I didn’t even think things would go this far.”

  I shake my head, incredulous. “What are you talking about? You’re here, you’re dressed.” I wave my hand toward the window. “Alec is outside waiting for you.”

  “You don’t understand,” she says, shaking her head, almost panicked. “I never wanted to marry him.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose as the room spins around me. “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t need to be married to make partner. I made that up.”

  “Sara, you’re losing me.”

  “This you’ll understand. He’s in love with someone else. He always has been.”

  “Sara—”

  “Why do you think I had you go dress shopping for me? Why do you think I went away for so long, or texted you to tell you I was sleeping with someone else? I wanted to wake you the hell up, so you’d see what that man means to you and vice versa. I thought spending time together would do it, but you’re both so stubborn and dense.”

  I back up, stumble a bit and grab the nearest chair. “You set all that up on purpose.”

  “Of course. I wanted you two together. Heck, everyone knows you two belong together.”

  “Sara,” I say. “I saw you two last night. I saw you in his arms. I went to Alec’s apartment to talk to him and I saw you two together in his bedroom.”

  Her head jerks back, her eyes wide in surprise, then she laughs. “I seduced him last night.” My stomach knots, and I place my hand over it, fearing I’m going to be sick. “I did it to prove a point.”

  I shake my head, unable to wrap my brain around all the things she’s saying to me. “He pushed me away, Megan. He rejected me because he’s in love with you. I kissed him on purpose, to show him we have nothing together. I jumped in and said I’d be his wife, because I didn’t want him marrying some schoolteacher or librarian or anyone but you. He loves you, Megan, and you need to be the one walking down that aisle.” She reaches behind her head and begins to unbutton her dress.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Changing clothes with you.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Of course, I am. Now go out there, and show that man you love him. Isn’t that how it’s done in those romance movies you watch?”

  “It’s called the grand gesture, and for the record, I knew he loved her,” Amanda says from behind me.

  I spin to face her, catch her grin. God this is all happening too fast, I don’t even have time to think it through. Amanda comes up and starts unbuttoning my dress, and the next thing I know, before I can even catch my breath, or get a word out, I’m being zipped up in Sara’s wedding dress.

  “This is insane,” I say. “I can’t do this. He’s expecting you.”

  “And he’ll be thrilled when he lifts this veil and finds you behind it,” Sara says.

  My heart beats like I’ve just had a triple shot of espresso. Could Sara be right? Does Alec love me? “He said he didn’t believe in love or even want a family. Those are all the things I want.”

  “He wants it, he just doesn’t know it,” Sara explains. “You’re going to show him he does. Now stop overthinking this.”

  I’m in a complete daze as my best friend and cousin practically drag me outside. I stand there looking at Alec through my veil as I try to catch my breath. Looking amazing in his tux, his brother, Will, beside him, he’s rocking back and forth on his heels, the guests sitting in lavender colored chairs all stand when the wedding march begins. It’s a beautiful wedding, a wedding of the century, and what’s about to happen next will either make or break my business. But I can’t think about that right now. I’m about to give Alec the shock of a lifetime.

  Am I really going to do this?

  Uncle Dave steps up to me. He grins, like he’s in on all this, too. Has everyone been matchmaking? Sara shoves me from behind, to set me into motion, and I can barely make my legs move as I walk toward the man I love. From the corner of my eye I spot James, and he’s grinning. He knows it’s me!

  Does Alec?

  God, what will he do when my veil is lifted? I hesitate. I can’t do this, it’s insane. I’m about to bolt, but Uncle Dave holds my arm, to prevent me from fleeing. My heart pounds so hard, I can’t think, can’t hear, can’t breathe.

  When I finally reach Alec, I step up to him. His jaw is clenched tight, and the muscles are rippling. He reaches out, and I tense when he lifts my veil.

  A gasp sounds in the crowd, and he goes perfectly still. Too still. His expression darkens, and deep blue eyes—angry eyes—narrow.

  “Alec,” I whisper.

  “No,” he says, and shakes his head as he backs away. “Not you, Megan. Never you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Alec

  “IF YOU’RE GOING to get married, you should at least marry the woman you love,” Granddad says as he swirls his brandy in his glass and relaxes into his recliner.

  I pace around his den, so goddamn mad I can barely see straight. “I can’t believe you set this all up. Just to get Megan and me together.”

  “You’ve been in love with her since high school and I’m not the only one who knows you two belong together,” he says. “Look at what Sara did.” He chuckles, but I find no humor in the situation.

  I close my eyes, and my heart aches when the vision of Megan dressed in that w
edding gown fills the darkness. The horrified look on her face, one I put there, rips a hole in my gut. It’s been three days since she bolted from the country club, and I holed myself up in my penthouse until Granddad insisted on seeing me. Megan is the last person in the world I ever meant to hurt, which is why I can’t marry her.

  “You don’t understand,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Granddad pushes from his chair, saunters across the room and refills his brandy. He pours a splash into another glass and hands it to me. “Then make me understand,” he says.

  I swirl the brandy, swallow it in one gulp and welcome the burn as it goes down my throat. I set the glass down, run my hand through my hair and walk to the window to glance out.

  “I love her, Granddad,” I finally admit out loud.

  “I know.”

  “And that’s exactly why I can’t be with her,” I say quietly.

  “Now that makes no sense.”

  I spin, frustrated with this whole situation. “The Carson men have a hard time with commitment, you of all people know that. Even Mom warned me to stay away from her. If my own mother doesn’t believe in me, how can I possibly believe in myself.”

  “Ah, I see,” he says, and nods his head, like he just solved all the problems in the world.

  I smooth my hand over my tie and pace back to the sofa across from Granddad. I drop into it, and brace my elbows on my knees. “What do you see?”

  “You don’t think you have it in you to be loyal.”

  A noise crawls out of my throat. “Name a man in our family who’s been loyal,” I say. “Christ, Will was in love and even he couldn’t stay loyal. We just don’t have it in us and I can’t—won’t—hurt Megan like that. She deserves someone better.”

  “You’re wrong you know.”

  “What am I wrong about?” Restless and edgy, I shake my foot.

  “I was loyal, son. I was very loyal to your grandmother. She was my everything.”

 

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