The Wedding Fling

by Meg Maguire

  “Hello, Captain.”

  “Hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “Not even close.” She opened the robe, revealing the shorts and top she’d been wearing earlier. “Just chilly. What can I do for you?”

  He arranged the candy bars in a fan, and her laugh warmed his entire body.

  “Are you my vending machine?”

  “I am.”

  She eyed the choices. “That was awfully nice of you.”

  “So was your offer to Bethany, asking if she’d like to swap rooms.”

  Leigh picked a Snickers bar, holding it in both hands as though he’d presented her with a rose. “That was really dumb, wasn’t it? My thinking it was even an option. She’d probably get in trouble.” Will could tell from Leigh’s face that she was more than embarrassed—she was disappointed.

  “Not dumb. Kindness is never dumb. Just a bit naive.”

  She smiled and fiddled with the candy wrapper, letting him see how dopey she felt. “You must think I’m completely out of touch.”

  “I think you’re lovely,” he said honestly, careful to keep all flirtation from his tone. With the guilt of his deal gone, it was too tempting, being close to her like this. Being close to her mouth, her hands, a bed... He fought his body’s every carnal instinct and took a step back.

  She shrugged and held the Snickers up. “Thanks for this.”

  “It’s nothing. Don’t look so bummed. No one thinks any less of you, naive or not.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried about that. Not really. I am bummed that she can’t have the room, though. She’s got to be close to nine months pregnant.”

  Will nodded. “She’s due this week, I think.”

  Leigh sighed in frustration. “It’s ridiculous for me to get that huge bed all to myself.”

  Don’t think about the huge bed. Don’t think about the huge bed. “If she gets uncomfortable she can sleep in the infirmary. It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll beat a cot.”

  “I guess that’s something.” Leigh glanced around the room. “I’d invite you in to hang out, but that’s probably naive of me, too.”

  “Probably.” But awfully tempting.

  Sadness passed over her pretty face, dark as a shadow.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  It occurred to him then, that she was lonely. His libido cooled. That was why she’d crashed the party, and hit on him, and why she looked so lost in this beautiful suite. She probably had swarms of people hounding her day and night back home, and this trip hadn’t been planned with solitude in mind.

  But it wasn’t his concern. Will had fraternized enough as it was, and hanging out with Leigh—romantically or only as friends—wasn’t good for either of them. Dangerous for him and his job; bad for her, surely, as she worked to wrap her head around the dissolution of her would-be marriage. Plus he still felt like a shit for ever having agreed to report on her vacation to that tabloid. Damn guilt. He’d been right to avoid feeling the emotion for so long, keeping his life free of promises and regrets. It felt terribly heavy, like a ball and chain.

  “Hope you sleep well,” he said, taking a couple more steps toward the door.

  “You, too. Thanks again.”

  Will smiled and set the extra candy bars on the table beside the door, earning himself a sheepish grin. She thanked him again and they said good-night, and a sense of safety, of dodged bullets, encased him as he closed the door.

  * * *

  LEIGH AWOKE TO THE heart-stopping sound of human wails.

  She shot up straight in her jumble of blankets, and the clock told her it was just past midnight. She pulled on the robe, grabbed her phone and hurried out into the hall in her bare feet. Voices came from down the stairs, female sobs and gasps, low male rumblings. Fear stiffened Leigh’s muscles but she ran down the steps.

  “Hello?” she called.

  The voices ceased, as though the speakers feared they’d been caught. She turned the corner and found Oscar and Bethany standing there in their pajamas. Will appeared from the lobby, a middle-aged woman right behind him.

  “Her labor’s started,” Oscar said to Leigh, by way of explanation and apology.

  “So sorry to disturb you,” Bethany added with a wince.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I was just worried someone had been hurt.”

  The woman Will had fetched must have been a doctor or nurse, since he stood aside to let her and Oscar help Bethany waddle into a side room.

  “Oh my,” Leigh said to Will.

  “She’ll be fine. She’s been through this drill twice already.”

  “God, what a time to go into labor.”

  He gave her a warm but tired smile. “Saved someone a stressful drive, having it happen here.”

  “That’s true. Are their kids awake?”

  He nodded, then stifled a yawn. “They’re being looked after.”

  Suddenly exhausted herself, Leigh took a seat on the carpeted steps to the second floor. “There’s probably nothing I can do to help, huh?”

  Will shook his head. He gave her another of his searching looks.

  “What?”

  “It’s making you nuts, isn’t it? Not feeling useful.”

  “A little.”

  “Come with me.”

  Intrigued, she followed him back to the pool area. He checked that the kids were behaving for the woman who was now trying to get them resettled, then headed for the spot where Oscar and Bethany had been sleeping. He handed Leigh a paperback and a bottle of water, and poked around, finding a cell phone and a pair of pink flip-flops. They walked back to the infirmary and Will knocked on the door. “Everybody decent?”

  “Yes,” the nurse called.

  They entered the clean, small room. Bethany was propped up on a hospital bed, her husband holding her hand while she cradled her belly. She was breathing deeper than before, the panic gone from her voice. She thanked Will and Leigh as they set the salvaged items on a cart by the bed.

  “It’ll be a long labor,” the nurse announced. “Contractions are very far apart still.”

  Leigh looked around, thinking poor Oscar could use a chair, but not knowing where to find one.

  “How long?” Will asked.

  “If I was a betting woman, I’d say eight hours, at least,” said the nurse.

  “They should take Leigh’s room,” Will stated firmly.

  Bethany shot him a look as though he’d suggested Leigh birth the baby for her.

  “Come on,” Will argued. “You can hobble around, watch TV, get comfortable. If the kids get antsy, they can camp on the couches. Leigh doesn’t mind.”

  “No,” she said. “I really don’t mind at all.”

  “I’m not telling management,” Will added. “Would you guys?”

  The couple and the nurse exchanged glances.

  “I didn’t think so,” Will said. “So come on. I’ll get Leigh set up someplace discreet, and when you realize what a great idea it is, shuffle on up there and take it easy. Okay?”

  Oscar frowned, but his wife gave him a beseeching glance. “Maybe,” he allowed.

  “Well, take it or don’t, but it’s at your disposal.” Will turned to Leigh. “Come on.”

  As they headed up the stairs to her suite, she murmured, “You did that for me, more than her.”

  He smiled at her as she swiped the door lock. “Maybe. Do you wish I hadn’t?”

  “God, no. What kind of jerk would hog this room when there’s a woman downstairs looking forward to a night of labor in the middle of a storm?”

  Will waited as she reassembled her suitcase, and they left the key card on the floor outside the door.

  “Lemme think where we can put you where management won’t st
umble over you in the morning and wonder why you’re not in your assigned room.”

  “What about a steam room or something?”

  “That could do. If you’re not claustrophobic.”

  “Nope.”

  “Sauna it is. I’ll find you a pad and some blankets and pillows.”

  Will dropped her at the room in question, down a short hall from the pool, and returned with the promised amenities. It was a unisex sauna, meant for people to use wearing swimsuits, and a skinny window in the door precluded privacy. But there were two levels of wide cedar benches along three walls, a perfectly adequate space for a sleeping pad.

  “This’ll be just fine.”

  Will’s lips opened and closed, seeming to hold in a thought. He took a seat on the far bench.

  “Yes?”

  “You’re really nice, offering Bethany and Oscar your room after your own villa got wrecked.”

  “You were awfully nice, bullying them into accepting the offer. I won’t get anyone in trouble over this, right?”

  He shook his head. “We watch each other’s backs. And I’ll watch yours.”

  “Good.”

  He pursed his lips.

  “What?”

  “You’re lonely, aren’t you?”

  She thought about it, realizing the answer with unexpected clarity. “I am. Or at least, I don’t know how to feel comfortable being alone anymore. Must make me look a bit pathetic.”

  “Not at all. Just explains why you lost your mind and deigned to make a move on me the other night.”

  Leigh blushed, glad it was likely undetectable in the dim light. “No, that wasn’t why. I wanted to.”

  “Was I just the nearest available man for the job?”

  She shook her head. “No. You just... It felt right. You seemed right, at the moment. You seemed like everything I wish I had, personified. Freedom and simplicity.”

  “I am simple, that’s true.”

  She smirked. “You know what I mean. So no, you weren’t just convenient. You did something to me.” And he still did. The steam room felt suddenly small and impossibly quiet, intimate, away from the howling squall outside.

  “You did something to me, too,” Will said softly.

  She fought to downplay the pleasure his words gave her. “Yes. It was called sexual assault.”

  He cracked a smile, but sincerity radiated from his gaze. “I wanted what you did, so don’t feel like you made a fool of yourself. If we’d met under other circumstances, I wouldn’t have stomped on the brakes. Trust me.”

  There had been a fist around her heart, and she felt its fingers relax, all the regret she’d been carrying around pumped cleanly away in a few beats. In its wake she felt the other emotion it had been shrouding—affection toward this man. More than mere affection. If we’d met under other circumstances, her mind echoed. If they had, she’d shuffle her butt along this bench and kiss him again. If. As it was, anyone could walk by and catch them, and get Will reprimanded or worse.

  “Would you have asked me out, under other circumstances?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Not in any world where you’re a movie star. Your entourage wouldn’t have let a bum like me near you.”

  “Maybe in these other circumstances, I’m just some normal girl. A waitress or something.”

  “A waitress,” he murmured, pondering mightily. “Yeah, I’d ask you out as a waitress.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “I’d have tipped you outrageously, as well.”

  “That’d be a role reversal.”

  Another laugh, a rich rumble that made Leigh feel as though someone must have switched on the steam. Her crush was back, worse than ever. Damn the room’s hateful window. In need of a distraction, she ripped the candy bar open and took a bite.

  “Now you’ll never get back to sleep,” Will said.

  She shrugged. “My body’s still got no clue what time zone I’m in. You want some?” She held out the Snickers.

  Will scooted down the bench and stole a bite. They swapped the bar back and forth in silence for a few moments, and Leigh struggled to keep her mind off how close his thigh was to hers, and how warm it must feel through his khaki shorts. She’d felt that heat for herself, his firm muscle, his needy kiss. She’d smelled his skin, its scent mingled with salt water and the tropical, fertile smell of the very island, floating on the breeze. She raised her chin and met his eyes in the ambient light.

  “What were you like, back in New York City?”

  The question stumped him a moment. “Young. I left before I was twenty.”

  “But, you know... Were you the same as you are now, personality-wise?”

  He shook his head. “I was irritable and impatient. I was a New Yorker. But I knew I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. I was like a parrot in a cage. I’d been born in that cage, but I still knew it wasn’t where I belonged.”

  “I wish I knew where I belong.”

  “You knew enough to get out of the wrong marriage. Plenty of people don’t realize that until it’s too late.”

  “Have you ever been married?” Leigh asked.

  He laughed softly. “No, not even close.”

  The answer made her melancholy. She had no more than a silly crush on Will, but the commitmentphobia implicit in his reply still disappointed her. Yet how could this man be any other way? Any romance beyond a one-night stand must weigh him down like a threat of grounding rather than the promise of steadiness, of stability. Leigh wished she could adopt a similar philosophy. In the wake of Dan’s betrayal, its simplicity had an appeal... But she wasn’t wired that way, for better or worse.

  “What?” he asked, after her silent scrutiny had gone on for some time.

  “Nothing. Just wishing I was more like you. Better at being...adrift, I guess.”

  He nodded. “Requires a very special set of lazy genes, to be as careless as me.”

  “It doesn’t look careless, being you. It looks liberating.”

  “No one’s life is quite how they lead you to believe. Freedom comes with its own burdens.”

  “Like what?”

  “Lots of questions, lots of wondering if you ought to regret your choices. Guilt about leaving people behind, to put yourself at the center of your universe.”

  She considered that. Her own universe was out of whack. Leigh felt trapped at the center of her parents’ harried orbits, trying desperately to adjust to everyone else’s gravity field, lest she fly off into space.

  “Is it ever lonely, being your own sun?” she asked Will.

  He paused thoughtfully. “It is and it isn’t. I’ve got the company of more friends and visitors than I can count, out here. But there’s only one person in the world I really love, and I left him behind.”

  “Your dad?”

  He nodded. “It was the price I chose to pay, the cost of living in a way that felt right for me. It’s a steep one, though. I know I’m missing out, not keeping my family close, not making room for a wife or kids.”

  “Maybe you’ll settle down someday.”

  “Maybe.”

  She pictured such a thing. Imagined Will and a faceless wife, a couple faceless kids, him tethered in a home and a city, his energy crushed by responsibilities. Regrets. She imagined herself then, with an older version of Dan, her own faceless children. Would she have swapped the peanut butter jar for a wineglass? A prescription bottle? She prayed not, but then again, it was such a very common fate for women in her position. Was she really so special that she could presume herself above it?

  Leigh sighed heavily and set the candy bar aside, arranging her pillows and lying down with her head a few feet from Will’s hip. She stared up at the ceiling. “How on earth did people of our grandparents’ generation settle down st
raight out of high school? How did they make these decisions so young, and see them through?”

  “Not everyone does. See their commitments through, that is,” he added, his voice flat.

  “I guess.”

  “It was different back then. Adulthood began practically at adolescence. Now it starts somewhere in the early thirties, as best I can tell. Which reminds me—I really ought to grow up soon.”

  She smiled at that.

  “But you must know all about being a grown-up,” Will said. “You got discovered at, what, seventeen?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t come into my own or anything. I’ve done nothing but take other people’s advice for the last ten years. If I even still have some internal compass, I doubt I’d know how to read it, it’s been shut in a drawer for so long.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine. Just take it out and give it some exercise.”

  “I tried that. And I wound up throwing myself at you.”

  “See? There you go. Your intuition’s bursting with genius ideas.”

  “That’s not what you said before. You said I must be nuts, picking you over a more ‘deserving’ man, or something like that.”

  “I was just being kind, to make you feel better.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Look, Leigh...” He trailed off with a heavy breath. “Nobody knows what they’re doing. Not the most powerful CEO on the planet, not the president, or your parents. Not you, and definitely not me. Don’t worry if your life doesn’t feel as tidy and resolved as some movie character’s, just before things fade to black. Because it won’t. You’re breathing, which is all it takes to be doing things right, from day to day.”

  “Your low standards aren’t without their appeal.”

  He leaned over to smirk down at her. “Neither are yours,” he said, clearly meaning her romantic standards of late.

  She stared up at his handsome face, that bone-melting smile. Their shared gaze lingered longer than was platonic, and she wished he’d lean down and kiss her, window be damned. Instead he reached over and swept her hair from her face, gently finger-combing it into order. His attention had drifted from her eyes to her throat or chin, and she watched him swallow.