McKenneys didn’t fall in love and get married. They had mergers, not love matches. His parents had practically had an arranged marriage. After watching the wreck of their marriage, he’d promised himself long ago that he wouldn’t go that route.
“I can see the light at the end of the tunnel,” she hollered without turning around.
He looked beyond the bow and saw it, the bright spot on the horizon. They’d made it through.
“Not bad for a total slack ass.” She glanced over her shoulder at him.
The wind had settled down to a breeze with attitude, making her platinum hair flutter around her beautiful face. Just looking at her made his chest ache, he wanted her so badly. He stood, his legs a little wobbly, wanting—needing—to touch her and knowing he couldn’t. He was twelve kinds of an asshole for hating that the storm had passed because it meant his time with her was almost over.
“Cyn—”
“I say we head back to shore.” Her words came out fast, rushing hard and dangerous like the wind only a few hours before. “No offense, but after everything, I’m not up for spending the night out here.”
With him.
She didn’t say it, but those two words hung in the air between them and sucked all the oxygen out of the sky.
“We need to talk.” He took a step toward her, jerking to a stop when she flinched.
“No, we need solid land beneath our feet.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and turned away. “All this stowaway wants is to go home.”
Chapter 5
Even a kick in the balls couldn’t make Hunter feel any worse than he did waking up the next morning alone in his hotel room. He rolled over and swiped his phone off the bedside table. Six in the morning—officially late enough to get out of bed as if he’d actually slept in it, as opposed to spending the night staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out how to work his way out of the hole he’d dug for himself.
Thump-thump-thump.
“I know you’re in there, man,” Garrett hollered through the door. “Get the fuck up.”
Great. Cyn must have told her big brother everything. Having his best friend kick his ass was the perfect start to a fan-fucking-tastic shit day. At least a black eye would match the tux he’d wear to the wedding that evening. Curling into a sitting position, he rubbed the back of his neck and tried to blink the image out of his head of Cyn grabbing the first taxi they saw after disembarking and riding away from the marina. It didn’t work. He saw the determinedly neutral expression on her face every time he blinked.
Thump-thump-thump.
He had to get it together. It was no use trying to ignore Garrett. The stubborn bastard would keep at the door until he knocked it in. Hunter whipped the sheets off and climbed out of bed.
“I’m coming,” he yelled.
He crossed the suite’s living room, his footfalls keeping time with Garrett’s relentless pounding on the door, and yanked it open. Garrett stormed in and went straight for the coffeemaker, where he easily punched a few buttons and the complicated contraption whirred to life.
“What in the hell did you do to my sister? She was crying when she showed up at my parents’ house last night. Crying! She never does that.”
Fuck. This might be a junk-punch confrontation, not a jab to the nose. He could deal with that. He deserved it. He knew he wasn’t the man for Cyn but that didn’t make him want her any less.
“I never meant for anything to happen.” God knew he’d fought it long and hard, but she felt so right in his arms, so perfect.
“I should hope the fuck not.” His best friend grabbed the single cup of coffee he’d brewed and turned to face Hunter. “She’s really upset. I guess the storm totally freaked her out.”
“The storm?” All he could think about was what had happened between them, and she was upset by the storm?
Garrett shot him a disgusted look. “Yeah, you know. Thunder. Lightning. Waves crashing.”
He flipped off the other man. “I know what a damn storm is. I lived through it.”
“So what the hell happened to shake her up so much?” Worry lines creased his forehead. “How bad was it really?”
The storm had been awful, but everything else? “Amazing.” The word slipped out before Hunter could stop it.
Garrett’s eyes rounded. “That’s so wrong.”
“You know, right up until our clothes came off I thought the same thing.”
But now? Being with Cyn made perfect sense. It’s what he wanted more than a perfect balance sheet or landing the next big deal. The rightness of it settled over him like a familiar blanket. He needed Cyn. If anyone could teach him how to love, it was her. Shit, she already had. He just had to prove it to her. But how? That’s where everything went fuzzy.
He bounded up from the couch, needing movement to jump-start his brain, and nearly collided with a very pissed-off Garrett.
His best friend slammed his palm against Hunter’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. “What in the fuck were you doing getting naked with my sister?”
“I never meant for it to happen.” But he was damn glad it had and he refused to apologize.
“The whole lost-at-sea thing or the banging the girl you’ve known since she was in pigtails?” Garrett glared at him. “Dammit, Hunter. There are a million women out there who you could fuck and walk away from. Why did it have to be Cyn?”
He rubbed his hand across his face, trying to figure out the words to explain something he didn’t have a complete grasp of on his own. “I’ve been fighting it for years. I couldn’t anymore. I love her.”
Anger, shock, and confusion shuffled across Garrett’s face so fast it made Hunter’s head spin. He wasn’t sure whether to brace for impact or raise his hand for a high five. But instead of whacking him, Garrett lifted the steaming cup of coffee and took a long drink, then eyeballed him for a few moments.
“When the hell did this happen?”
“The yacht’s deck must have knocked some sense into me.” More like skin-to-skin contact, but he wasn’t about to tell Cyn’s brother that. “Look, I know I don’t deserve her but I want to be the man who does, and if falling in love with her means losing you as a best friend, then so be it. Cyn’s worth it.”
Garrett squinted his eyes as if Hunter had grown a second head. “What in the fuck are you talking about? Why are you trying to break up our lifelong bromance?”
“Because I’m in love with your little sister.” The more he said it, the easier it became. He loved Cyn Aston and he was going to do whatever it took to convince her of that.
“And is this the seventeenth century, where I’m supposed to challenge you to a duel or some such shit?” Garrett asked, not even bothering to control his smug smirk.
Realization hit Hunter right between the eyes. Garrett was straight up mocking him. “You’re not mad?”
“I’ll be mad if you hurt her. She’s my sister. I only have one of her.” He grinned. “But I only have one of you, too, you moron.”
Relief swept through him like a storm surge. He wanted to hug Garrett, but that wasn’t going to happen—he was still a dude after all. Instead, he just stood there grinning like an asshole. “I’m gonna get all weepy here.”
“Fuck you.” Garrett flipped him off.
Hunter collapsed onto the couch, trying to wrap his brain around what he needed to do next. It had to be today. After the wedding, everyone would scatter to the four winds. Cyn could go anywhere and spend next to forever avoiding him. He had one shot at this and he had to get it right. There was just one problem. He had no idea how to make that happen. “How am I going to fix this?” he asked.
Garrett laughed. “Your knees okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because you are just about to become all about the groveling to make up for messing things up so bad.”
Whatever it took. He’d do that and more just to persuade Cyn to give him another chance.
Cyn forced herself not to down the champ
agne the waiter handed her at the wedding reception. She’d spent the day locked in the salon getting every spa treatment known to man to avoid the rest of the wedding party and their clucking concern about her close call in the sudden summer storm. She’d made it through the ceremony, tucking her hand through the crook in Hunter’s elbow and walking down the aisle without giving in to the tears threatening to fall.
She’d arrived at the reception with her dignity mostly intact, if not her heart, and survived the cutting of the cake, the happy couple’s first dance, and the bouquet toss. She’d almost mowed down the flower girl in her effort to miss the bundle of fresh-cut white and pink orchids that had sailed straight at her, but she’d dodged that bullet.
If only she’d been so lucky out on the ocean. The best mistake of their lives. She couldn’t stop hearing Hunter’s words in her head and it was about to drive her crazy, or make her cry—she wasn’t sure which. All she knew was that she didn’t want to lose it at her brother’s wedding reception. Taking in a deep breath, she reached out for just enough mental Zen to get her through the next thirty minutes until she could slip away without drawing attention. After that? She sipped the champagne, the bubbles popping against her tongue as she considered.
She wouldn’t—couldn’t—go back to being Princess Cyn. You can be more. It wasn’t like she hadn’t known that before Hunter, but she’d been too petrified by her fear of failing to take the next step. Fail faster was Garrett’s favorite saying. Maybe it was time she took his advice. She could totally do this. Scratch that. She would totally do this.
The idea filled her with a bubbly optimism and something she hadn’t felt in forever—determination to succeed. She might fail fast, but she wouldn’t give up and sink back into lazy apathy again. Think of the devil. Her brother emerged from the dance floor, handed his bride off to her father, and came to stand by Cyn.
He gave her a considering look. “Don’t you look pensive.”
If that’s what he got from being scared shitless and unbelievably excited at the same time, then so be it. “I’m making life-altering plans while drinking champagne.”
“Sounds like a solid plan.” He grabbed a glass from a passing waiter and clicked it against hers. “To your future world domination.”
She giggled, the strain of the past two days finally evaporating. “Exactly.”
The song ended and the distinct tap-tap-tap of someone rapping their finger on a microphone sounded over the speakers. Everyone on the dance floor turned toward the stage. Cyn looked up and her breath caught. Hunter in cargo shorts was orgasm-inducing. Hunter in a tux was devastating. The bastard had no right to look so damn good.
She downed the rest of her champagne in one gulp, trying to douse the fire he ignited in her. It wasn’t fair. Sleeping with him really had been the best mistake of her life. Her lungs burned and the empty champagne flute shook in her hand. It hurt too much to see Hunter in his custom-made Armani, but she couldn’t stop herself from picturing how much better he looked out of it and thinking about how much she’d like to slip the buttons free and slide her hands beneath his shirt to feel his ab muscles twitch under her fingers.
“Good evening, everyone,” he said into the mic. His low voice slid over her skin, making her hot and needy.
Her breath whooshed out of her lungs and her pulse spiked, sending a hot flush across her skin. She had to get out of here before she lost it. “I gotta go.”
She managed to take a single step toward the door before her brother’s hand on her elbow stopped her. “Not quite yet, sis.” His grip didn’t loosen and he kept his gaze locked on the stage. “You can’t miss the best man’s toast.”
Twisting her arm to try to break out of his grasp, she shot him a dirty look as adrenaline ricocheted through her veins. “Let me go.”
He wouldn’t let go. Could she kick the groom in the balls on his wedding day? Probably not. But she could stomp him with her stiletto without a second thought. Her fight-or-flight response fully engaged, she lifted her right foot in preparation, but at the last second, Garrett looked down at her, understanding and sympathy shining from his green eyes. She dropped her foot to the floor.
“Two minutes,” he whispered. “You don’t like what he says, leave, no questions asked.”
The adrenaline drained from her system, leaving her winded and weary. “What do you know?”
Garrett gave her a small smile before releasing her elbow. “Everything.”
The pronouncement started her world from spinning as she tried to process. Everything? Hunter had told Garrett everything? Why in God’s name would he do that? She didn’t have a chance to ask because Sophia left the dance floor to join them and Hunter began to speak.
“As many of you know, yesterday’s storm hit while I was out on the ocean miles from the shore. It totally snuck up on me and I didn’t notice until the waves were already threatening to toss me overboard. Life’s like that sometimes. Everything is moving along at a great clip, the sun is shining, and then bam! You’re trying to stay upright when the waves are tossing you around like a toy boat.” Everyone chuckled in agreement as he paused and looked over the crowd.
Like the multibillionaire CEO that he was, Hunter had to know the key to controlling a group of people was all in his timing. She marveled at his easy command of the room as he stood on the stage, flanked by the band. He had the wedding guests eating out of the palm of his hand. Even as pissed as she should be at him, she couldn’t help but be drawn in. His gaze searched the crowd until it locked with hers. The pure, unadulterated heat in his eyes nearly melted her feet to the floor. She couldn’t have left the room at that moment if she’d wanted to. Heart fluttering in her chest, she handed Garrett her glass before she dropped it.
“Falling in love is a lot like getting stuck in a storm at sea,” Hunter said, zeroing in on her like she was the only person in the world. “That person you thought you already knew becomes someone more. The feelings you fought for so long finally win out. The fear that kept you alone no longer has any power in comparison to the way love makes you feel.” He stepped off the stage and the guests standing on the dance floor parted to let him through. He stopped directly in front of Garrett and Sophia, but he never glanced away from Cyn.
To the casual observer behind them on the dance floor, he was talking about the newlyweds. But they couldn’t see the need and determination shining in his smoldering gray eyes when he looked at her. He wasn’t talking to anyone but her.
“Realizing this is more than a little disconcerting,” he continued as he intertwined his fingers through hers. “You’re bound to say and do stupid things, like ‘we can never do this again.’ But if you’re lucky, that person you love is willing to see beyond that. And if you need to grovel, beg, or make a total fool of yourself to make that happen, you’re willing to do that because, whether the day is bright and sunny with calm waters or the winds are howling, the lightning crashing and the thunder cracking, there’s no one you’d rather have by your side.” He squeezed her hand. “Forever.”
Clenching her jaw tight to minimize the trembling, she tried to force back the emotion clogging her throat. Hunter McKenney loved her. He turned and faced the crowd but didn’t release her hand.
“Please, raise a glass to Garrett and Sophia Aston. May you have an infinite number of sunny days, but if there are squalls on the horizon, may you face them down together and be stronger for surviving them. Cheers to the newest Mr. and Mrs. Aston, to happy endings, and to the ones we love in the brightest sunshine and the darkest storms.”
Everyone cheered and clapped before drinking their champagne. Garrett winked at her before escorting his bride back onto the dance floor to mingle with the well-wishers and the band began to play a slow dance. Cyn stood there beside Hunter, her hand still in his and her tears beginning to get the best of her.
The unreality of the situation had turned her vision fuzzy around the edges. Remembering to breathe was turning into a full-time occupation. Be
fore she could get her discombobulated thoughts in order, Hunter left the mic with a misty-eyed wedding guest and led her out onto the dance floor and gathered her in his arms. As they moved to the song’s slow beat, she laid her head on his shoulder and marveled at how their bodies fit together like this moment had always been meant to be.
“Say something, Cyn.” He brushed his lips across the top of her head. “I’m dying here.”
“You love me.” The words felt strange on her tongue, like she was speaking a foreign language.
“I do. I have. I always will.” He pulled her closer so not even a sliver of light could get between them. “When I said we couldn’t be together again, it was because I was an idiot and I was scared. I thought I’d lose you because I couldn’t be the kind of man you deserved. I didn’t exactly grow up with grade-A examples of how loving relationships worked.”
“Well, I did and I thought I could never live up to the example my parents set,” she said. That fear he’d talked about, it hadn’t just been him who’d been afraid. “Looks like this will be a first for both of us then.”
“No.” He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her head so she had to look up at him. “This’ll be the last. I love you, Cyn Aston.”
Something filled her up, making her want to float away on the thrill of it all. Love. She finally felt it, just when she’d given up. “I love you, too.”
Whether she rose up on her tiptoes first or he leaned down didn’t matter. All she cared about was that in the next moment his lips were on hers and just how exactly they’d gotten here didn’t matter. The storm was past and she could see the light on the horizon.
About Avery Flynn
USA Today bestselling romance author Avery Flynn has three slightly-wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband and is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip. Also, if you figure out how to send Oreos through the Internet, she’ll be your best friend for life.
Alphas of Seduction Page 14