The opportunity to miss Corrie, even when they were dating . . . yeah, that never really happened. She was right there, ready to jump when he called. She fell into place, and asking her to marry him was as much about closing a chapter in his life and moving forward as any business deal he’d been a part of.
He was an asshole.
Marriage wasn’t a business.
At least it isn’t supposed to be.
Marriage and love are about the welled up emotion that surfaces at the most unexpected times. Like with Shannon today. He hadn’t missed the tears in her eyes when she spoke of her ex.
Victor kicked his feet off the bed and retrieved his laptop.
He ignored the three hundred new e-mails in his inbox and logged into the hotel’s Wi-Fi. He googled Paul and Shannon Wentworth and scanned through their public pictures.
“Jesus.” He blew out a whistle.
He knew she was attractive, obviously. Between his voyeur tendencies, the killer white bikini, and the relaxed sundresses she wore, it was hard to miss her beauty. The pictures he looked at now were of her and her ex-husband in black-tie attire, floor-length rhinestone studded dresses, full makeup, and jewelry fit for a princess.
Victor stuck to his earlier conviction.
Paul Wentworth was a fool.
Victor removed Paul’s name from the search and found a new thread of society page photographs. Pictures ranging from gossip magazines after her divorce to her attending celebrity weddings. In fact, on closer inspection, it looked as if Shannon and Avery had both been in the wedding party of a well-known country singer and an oil heiress.
Yeah, Shannon Wentworth was a lady, where Corrie stuck out like a college student.
He had an itchy desire to read the articles about her divorce, then decided against it. He considered it a violation of her privacy, even in light of it being public knowledge.
“Yet you secretly watch her swimming naked,” he said to himself. “Twisted, Vic . . . really twisted.”
He glanced again at the number inside the red circle above his e-mail inbox, clenched his fists, and closed his computer.
It could wait.
Whatever it was . . . it could wait.
Stephanie was told to call him only if the sky was falling.
Victor peeked out the window. Nope . . . the sky was still there.
Clouds rolled in as the sun started to go down, and the rain that made the region tropical started to fall.
Shannon and Avery ended up having dinner at the hotel restaurant, where Victor joined them. They took their time with their meal but ended the night early.
Avery still wasn’t a hundred percent, and Victor didn’t suggest they extend the night longer.
The next morning, Shannon sat on the side of Avery’s bed, placing a cold washcloth on her head. “I think you need to see a doctor.”
“I must have eaten something bad.”
“Food poisoning doesn’t last this long. Unless you ate something that has a parasite, it wouldn’t linger.”
Avery’s eyes widened. “I’ve heard horror stories of stuff in the food here.”
“That has to be it. We didn’t drink last night, and I didn’t buy a hangover from the night before. No offense, my friend, but your liver is seasoned better than that.”
Avery attempted to smile through her misery.
“I could just be sick.”
Shannon thought that, too. “What do you want to do? We can find a clinic.”
Avery shook her head. “A Mexican hospital isn’t something I want to experience, not when I don’t speak the language. If I’m not feeling better by tonight, we’ll go.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, Shannon. I know this isn’t how you pictured the week to be.”
She stood. “It’s okay. I wasn’t ready for meaningless sex yet, anyway. I’ll go out to the beach and check on you by lunch. If you’re not feeling any better, I’m going to drag you to the nearest doctor.”
Avery rolled over, tucked her hands under her cheek. “I might let you.”
Shannon grabbed a coffee from the hotel coffee bar and parked herself in her usual beach spot.
She opened the book she’d been nibbling away at and lay back to take in the morning. It didn’t take long for Dylan and Erasmo to find her and settle in, and soon after, Victor worked his way down.
“Good morning.”
It was a simple greeting. One she’d just received from Dylan and Erasmo . . . yet his had her smiling on the inside.
“Morning.”
He spread out under the palapa to her left and glanced briefly at her body. “No white swimsuit today?”
She blushed. “I need to switch up the tan lines.”
Today she wore a more conservative navy blue number without all the crisscross strings.
“Still nice,” he said. “But yesterday’s wins.”
“I didn’t know there was a contest.”
He leaned back, put sunglasses over his eyes. “Now that you do, I’ll look forward to tomorrow.”
“Look forward to disappointment, then. I only brought two. One to wear, one to dry.”
Dylan overheard their conversation and spoke up. “I can help you with that.”
Shannon picked up her e-reader, woke up the screen. “Victor can have his own little fashion show in his head. I have plenty of suits at home. No need to shop here.”
“Where’s Avery?” Erasmo asked a few minutes later.
“She’s still not feeling right. I want to take her to the doctor, but she’s not cooperating.”
“She’s not drinking the water out of the tap, is she?” Victor asked.
“No.”
“She didn’t drink alcohol last night,” he added.
“Even if she did, of all my friends, she’s the one with the iron stomach.”
“She seemed fine last night.”
“I know. It’s like she’s allergic to the morning.” Sick in the morning . . . fine by the evening. It reminded her of when she wanted to skip school as a kid.
Only Avery was skipping her vacation.
“Is that the new e-reader?” Dylan asked.
Unless . . .
“Yeah,” Shannon answered on autopilot.
She flipped forward several chapters in the book she was reading and came across the one titled “Pregnant and Single.” She skimmed several pages and read a passage on morning sickness.
“Oh my God.”
“What?” Victor asked.
Shannon dropped her e-reader and jumped up. “I’ll be back.”
She all but ran through the sand, around the beach chairs, and up the stairs to their suite. She swung the door open, startling Avery.
“Geez, Shannon . . . you scared me.”
“You don’t have a parasite,” she said, smiling. “You’re pregnant.”
Chapter Fifteen
Victor watched as Shannon ran off. “What is that all about?” he asked the other guys.
“Who knows. I don’t try and figure out the actions of women,” Erasmo said.
Victor laughed.
Dylan moved over to Shannon’s spot and picked up the e-reader he had been asking her about. “I’ve been thinking about getting one of these.” He waved it around. “It’s waterproof. Perfect for the beach.”
Things like that didn’t interest Victor.
He looked around the shade of his palapa to see if he could get a glimpse of Shannon up in her room, but his vantage point wasn’t nearly as good as it was across the beach.
“Oh, wow . . .”
Victor glanced over to Dylan, who looked at him, and then the device in his hand.
He dismissed Dylan’s excitement over the new technology and folded his arms behind his head and started to close his eyes.
“Oh, oh . . . no.”
“What’s so exciting?” Erasmo asked.
“Nothing.” Once again, Dylan looked at Victor, then the e-reader.
Dylan dr
opped the device and scooted back to his spot next to Erasmo.
Victor started to close his eyes again.
“Do you read for pleasure?” Dylan asked him.
“No time,” he replied.
“That’s too bad. You can learn a lot about a person by what they read.”
Erasmo laughed. “Which would make you a serial killer with all the thrillers you go through.”
Victor felt the weight of someone watching him.
He opened his eyes and saw Dylan. When his gaze moved to where Shannon had been sitting, or more importantly, the e-reader he’d been so fascinated with, Victor caught on.
He sat up. “Waterproof, huh?”
Dylan nodded. “Lightweight, too.”
Victor looked up, didn’t see Shannon, and saw his hand reaching toward her stuff.
He touched the screen and it came to life. It took him a few sentences to comprehend what he was reading.
A book on pregnancy? No . . . not exactly.
He flipped through and found a chapter heading and the title of the book.
No, no. Why would Shannon . . . ?
“Pretty cool, right?” Dylan asked.
He had to be mistaken. Was the woman pregnant? He thought of the bikini hugging her body. A bathing suit like that was what a woman wore to attract a man. Not to mention the alcohol. Shannon seemed like a responsible woman. Pregnant women didn’t drink.
Victor knew it was wrong, but he clicked on what looked like a menu and the images of book covers popped on the screen. Single Mothers. Single Motherhood by Choice. Skip the Syringe, Just Have Sex.
What the . . .
He clicked back into the book she’d been reading, flipped back a few pages, uncertain where he’d picked the device up, and left it next to her bag and hat.
“I might have to take up reading again,” Victor said, staring at Dylan.
Dylan offered a sad smile.
So many questions came at once. Shannon was considering a baby, which was obvious. Skipping the syringe meant sleeping around, trapping a man? No, no . . . single mothers. No dad needed for that. Except in the baby making part of the deal. Kinda hard to have a baby without a man or the implied syringe.
Victor tried to find some kind of incriminating behavior to point the finger toward Shannon working some kind of scheme to get pregnant without the man realizing what was going on.
Except all he came up with was the time she’d spent with him and the gay couple from Portugal.
Which left him.
Only his fiancée had walked out, and here Shannon was at his honeymoon hotel, by accident.
Was she playing him?
Was she playing anyone?
Son of a . . .
There was really only one way to find out.
Shannon skipped back onto the beach ten minutes later, much happier than when she’d left.
“Is everything okay?” Victor asked.
“Everything’s great.” She sat on her perch, waved a hand at the server on the beach. “I’m up for a Bloody Mary, anyone want one?”
“I’ll take one,” Erasmo said.
She looked at Victor.
“I’m good.”
“Dylan?”
“Too early for me.”
“How’s Avery?” Victor asked.
Shannon grinned and bit her lip. “Much better.”
“What’s so funny?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
The waiter approached, cutting off the conversation.
As Victor watched Shannon sipping what he would call a vacation cocktail or something given a name that made it okay to drink before noon, he completely ruled a pregnant Shannon out.
Her playing him, however, was still on the table. He had two days to figure out her game.
If there was one thing Victor had come to realize, it was that she was up to something.
Nothing could dim her mood. Even Avery grumbling around their room and checking her stomach’s profile in the full-length mirror while in complete denial.
Like clockwork, Avery’s transient stomach issues disappeared as the morning ran on, leaving her tired but hungry around two.
“We’ve been using protection.”
“Apparently not all the time.”
“I knew going off the pill was a bad idea.” At thirty-three, her doctor had suggested she take a break to test her hormone and thyroid levels. Add to that the fact that she and Liam had talked about having a baby . . . someday. “All your talk about getting pregnant scared me into thinking I wouldn’t.”
“Obviously not your concern.”
Avery paced the room, as she had most of the day. “We just got married.”
“Liam is going to be thrilled.”
“I know that. But he isn’t the one puking. I’m going to get fat.” She sat on the edge of a bed. “Maybe it’s just some kind of parasite.”
Shannon giggled. “Yeah, the nine month kind.”
“This isn’t funny.”
She took Avery’s hands in hers. “You’re going to be a great mom.”
Avery’s eyes opened wide. “Oh my God. I’ll be like my mother.”
“Not a chance.”
“What if I screw up?”
“You’re not going to screw up.”
Avery shook her head. “I’m not ready for this.”
Shannon knew her friend. It had taken her a long time to allow a relationship between her and Liam, even longer to admit it. Then one step after the other, Liam had put them on the fast track to getting married. Now this. “You’re ready. Liam is going to be the perfect father. You have me, Trina, and Lori. Everything is going to work out.”
Avery reverted back to her earlier argument. “I just got married.”
It was going to be a long night.
Victor found Dylan and Erasmo at the space reserved for their party before Shannon and Avery joined them.
He’d barely taken a seat before Dylan brought up their discovery earlier in the day. “What are your thoughts on Shannon’s choice in reading material?”
Victor glanced beyond Dylan to his husband.
Erasmo smiled. “We share everything. He already told me about it.”
Victor looked over his shoulder, didn’t see Shannon or Avery in sight. “Honestly, I’m confused.”
“She doesn’t act like she’s pregnant.”
“I don’t think she is,” Victor added. “She seems a lot more responsible than to be drinking during a pregnancy.”
“That’s what I pointed out,” Erasmo said. “But if she’s reading books on being a single mother, then maybe she’s considering her options.”
Dylan lowered his voice. “We know a lot of same-sex couples, and the women have talked openly about hooking up with a guy long enough to get the job done.”
“One even asked one of us to step in,” Erasmo told him.
Victor’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
They both nodded.
“Some of us have explored the other side before coming out, so it’s not terribly uncommon. And with fertility clinics being slow on the diversity train, same-sex couples haven’t always had the same options as hetero couples.” Dylan sighed. “We said no, in case you were wondering.”
Victor lifted his hands in the air. “Not my business.”
“Do you think maybe Shannon is here to find a guy to do the job?” Dylan asked.
The thought had crossed Victor’s mind more than once. “That’s where I’m confused. If she is, she isn’t going about it very aggressively.”
“She doesn’t seem to be the aggressive type.” Erasmo looked over Victor’s shoulder, lifted his chin. “We could just ask her.”
“Sure, and confess to invading her privacy by reading her book. Women don’t like that,” Victor said.
Dylan smiled. “He has a point, hon. I say we keep this to ourselves.”
Somehow Victor thought invading Shannon’s privacy by watching her skinny-dipping every night migh
t be the bigger sin, but he wasn’t about to go to confession on that one.
“Don’t say anything to anyone,” Avery said as they made their way to the beach barbeque and bonfire that night. As the afternoon moved on and Avery’s morning sickness eased, her denial ramped up. Although Shannon had slipped out of the hotel in a cab and returned from a pharmacy with an at-home pregnancy test, it said to use it in the early morning, so it sat in their bathroom waiting for the next day. “Probably a false alarm.”
Shannon rolled her eyes. Let the woman live her fantasy for another night. By morning, she’d confirm what they both already knew.
The sun had yet to set, but the small fire was heating the warm air on the beach. The guys were already there, reserving seats for the two of them.
“It’s not cold enough for a fire,” Avery said as she sat down.
Shannon scratched at a bite on her arm. “Maybe it will help with the mosquitos.”
“Vicious little shits, aren’t they?” Erasmo said.
Victor moved over, giving her room to sit at the low-lying table surrounded by cushions. “They don’t seem to like me,” Victor bragged.
“Lucky you.”
His eyes traveled the length of her, and he smiled. “You both look lovely tonight.”
Avery flopped beside Dylan. “I should . . . I’ve been sleeping all damn day.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. Nothing worse than getting ill on vacation.”
Avery wasn’t amused. “I’m over it.”
The waiter arrived to take a drink order. Shannon hesitated until Avery spoke. “Iced tea . . . wait, no—caffeine. Juice.”
“Orange? Cranberry? Apple?”
“Apple . . . wait, no. Orange.”
The waiter paused. “Any tequila in that?”
Avery looked around at the group and sighed. “No.”
“And you?” He turned to Shannon.
She glanced at Avery, wanting to support her.
“She’ll have a margarita,” Avery ordered for her, removing her choice.
“I will?”
“Yes. Just because I shouldn’t, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”
Shannon smiled. “Fine, I’ll take a margarita.”
The waiter walked away.
“We’re glad you could join us,” Dylan told Avery. “Our flight leaves in the morning.”
Faking Forever (First Wives Book 4) Page 13