by Jayne Rylon
He’d ruined himself before he even had a chance.
A woman who prized perfection and stability could never settle for someone as irreparably broken as him for a life partner.
Inherently flawed.
Incurably sick.
He paced the cabin. On the path leading farther away from the bed, he thought up every reason he was horrible for her, admitting he should leave her alone before he fucked up her life. On the way back, when he could see her lying there, so heartbreakingly beautiful, he argued with himself about how he’d do better for her. Over and over, he resolved to wake her up and tell her he wanted to try for something that went beyond a wedding affair.
Yet every time he approached her, he chickened out. So he’d nearly worn a groove in the plank flooring by the time his restless energy was depleted.
Though he was exhausted, physically and mentally drained, he couldn’t bring himself to return to the bed where they’d shared the most amazing experience of his life, because he didn’t want to taint her with his presence. He thought about bailing, crossing the lawn to his cabin and pretending like the one-night stand had been nothing extraordinary. With his hand on the doorknob, he couldn’t force his wrist to turn. Torn, he headed instead for the same couch on which he’d spent the predawn hours the morning before.
He plopped down, unconcerned about his nudity, and flung himself onto his side with enough drama to suit a thirteen-year-old girl who hadn’t gotten asked to the spring dance.
That was when he saw the gift someone had so thoughtfully snuck into Amber’s cottage.
A black ice bucket with the distinct gleaming gold foil of a bottle of Cristal peeking out from the top.
Gavyn rocketed to a sitting position. His spine whipped so straight, so fast, it nearly cracked. He lunged for the champagne and cradled the bottle to his chest as if it were a precious baby instead of a hell of a good vintage.
The folded note looped around the neck read, I hope you don’t mind this one surprise addition to your agenda. Thank you for everything. I love you. Enjoy, Nola.
Gavyn had the neck of the bottle exposed quicker than he’d unwrapped Amber from her dress earlier. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d popped the cork, sending it flying across the room.
Foam gushed from the bottle, covering his hands with sweet-smelling alcohol. Not letting it go to waste, he licked it up greedily, not missing a drop from his palms.
Then he froze. He stared in horror at his glimmering hands as if they were coated in blood after a brutal murder. Then he glanced over his shoulder at Amber, who’d slept through the noise. She was dead to the world.
To his transgression.
He couldn’t control himself. He couldn’t stop.
He wanted to, for her sake. This wasn’t the kind of man she deserved to be stuck with. Was it?
Desperate, he plunked the champagne on the coffee table, pried his fingers from the lovely bottle one at a time then slid onto the floor and crawled to his discarded clothes. He hauled his phone from his suit pants.
Gavyn made his way to the bathroom and locked himself in so Amber wouldn’t hear or be woken by the glow from his phone. Also so he wouldn’t run over to the champagne and chug the entire bottle before someone could stop him.
He needed help. Eyes scrunched closed, unable to believe he was going to interrupt Barracuda’s wedding night for something so pitiful, he considered his options.
It was either that or wake Amber and admit how fucked up he really was, guaranteeing he’d have no chance with her in any case.
Sweating and shaking, he could barely thumb through his contacts in search of Roman’s name. The fingers of his other hand clenched and unclenched as he tried to ignore the voices screaming at him to forget this and go into the other room instead.
Just then he pulled up Barracuda’s number. When he finally got it on screen, he jabbed the icon before he could change his mind. Again.
It rang. And rang and rang.
Roman didn’t answer.
“Fuck!” He punched the wall by the sink hard enough to skin his knuckles, dropping his phone in the process. It shattered on the tile floor, severing his only lifeline.
It was hopeless. He was hopeless.
Why had Roman been able to fix himself when Gavyn couldn’t?
Overwhelmed, he surrendered.
He opened the bathroom door and took a step toward the bottle taunting him. He sniffed his own hands, just for a fix. One taste, that was all—he needed one taste and then he would go search out his friend.
Except the instant his hand wrapped around the bottle’s neck, he knew there was no stopping now.
Gavyn tipped it to his lips and drank.
And drank.
And drank some more.
It burned as it fizzled down his throat.
He welcomed the pain.
Gasping for air, he realized he’d slammed half the bottle in one pull and prepared to finish it, get it over with, with the next. When it was empty, some dribbling onto his chest from where it had overflowed his mouth, he dropped the bottle onto the couch.
Gavyn grabbed the pen and the note from Nola and scrawled on the back of it. He staggered over to the bed and placed the paper beside Amber. Though he wished he could lean forward and kiss her one more time, he refused to defile her like that.
Instead, he slunk to the door and escaped before she could cage him in, away from what he needed. Not that she would care about him anymore if she saw what he had done. Who he really was. All that talk of changing was bullshit.
She was right to play by the rules. They kept her safe.
From herself.
And from the disappointing elements of the world. Including him.
He tried to run when his feet hit the ground, not caring that sticks and rocks and wet dirt clung to his soles. The champagne hit him hard, going to his head and making him dizzy.
Gavyn crashed, face first into the dirt, only laughing raucously when a rock smashed into his ribs. He deserved for it to hurt. It’d been so long since he’d had a drink, he could hardly hold his liquor anymore. What a pussy.
He’d fix that. The catering supplies wouldn’t be hauled away for a solid three or four hours yet, according to Amber’s schedule. He’d make the most of that open bar after all.
Chapter Ten
A sharp knock on the door startled Amber. Fast asleep, she struggled to surface from the coma she’d fallen into after making love with Gavyn.
“Gav?” she called sleepily. “Is that you?”
Maybe he’d gotten locked out after using Kayla and Dave’s kitchen to cook them another spectacular breakfast. One she would eagerly devour. Sex with him was better than cardio for working up her appetite.
“No, sorry. It’s me. Roman.” His voice came quietly from the front of the cabin as if he was unsure or trying not to frighten her. “The door’s not shut all the way—mind if I come in?”
What the hell?
“Yes! I mean…I mind. Hang on a minute.” Amber scrambled to engage her brain. She lunged for a blanket to wrap around her nude body, snatched the gold condom wrapper off the sheets, sprang out of bed and promptly tripped over one of Gavyn’s dress shoes.
Where is he?
Her body reminded her, with delicious aches, of the time they’d spent together the night before, making love in a variety of poses she didn’t usually subject herself to. Maybe Sabra had something with that yoga stuff. If Amber was going to be getting it on with a super-stud more often, she’d have to get into better shape. Be more flexible. In all sorts of ways.
Holy hell. He’d practically knocked her unconscious. She hadn’t slept like that since she was a child, with nothing to worry about. Since before her father had died.
Swiping the tangle of her hair from her face, she tried to appear a tiny bit toge
ther. No hope, really.
Barracuda grinned at her when she approached. “If I wasn’t a happily married man, I’d have to say… Damn, Amber.”
She blushed despite her newly turned wild leaf.
“Sorry. I was…really tired. Are you waiting for Gavyn? Is he in the shower?” She peeked toward the bathroom. The door was wide open and there was something on the floor.
“Actually, I was coming to see if everything was okay.” Roman snapped back to serious awfully quick. “I didn’t realize my phone had run out of battery last night. When I plugged it in this morning I saw I had a two a.m. missed call from him.”
“What?” A sick feeling swirled around her stomach. “You did?”
“Yeah.” His gaze began to dart around the room uneasily. For a badass like Roman, that was about as concerning as full-blown hysterics from a regular human being.
Right about then, she realized the object now crumpled in her hand was paper, not plastic, and the condom wrapper had been black, not gold.
“Oh shit.” Amber unfurled her fingers and realized it was actually a note. From her sister? And on the back… Two words scrawled in a barely legible script.
I’m sorry.
“No!” she cried out at the same time Roman started cursing violently, inventing new combinations she’d never heard before. He grabbed something off the couch and held it up to her.
“Please tell me you drank this.” Barracuda waved a fancy champagne bottle.
Amber put her face in her hands, her cheek objecting though nothing could hurt as much as her cracking heart. Her knees gave out and she fell to them on the floor, sobbing. “I didn’t know it was there. I swear I didn’t.”
“It’s not your fault.” Roman rushed to her side. His phone was already halfway to his ear. And seconds later, he was barking out orders. “Meep. I need you. And the rest of the guys. Gavyn is missing. I think he’s on a bender. Run down to the lot and make sure his motorcycle is still here. If it is, then help me search the grounds. We’ve got to find him. Quick.”
As if he’d urged Amber on instead of his new husband, Roman’s instructions clicked in her mind. She didn’t give a shit if he saw her naked. She ditched the blanket and drew on Gavyn’s shirt, which covered her almost to her knees. Good enough.
“Let’s go.” She grabbed Roman’s hand, tugging him toward the door, as he stood still gaping at her.
“Amber, I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but…I think you should stay,” he tried to warn her. “No matter what we find, it’s not going to be pretty and—”
“I’m not going to leave him out there alone. He could be hurt. In trouble…” Her voice cracked. “Worse.”
“Think positive.” Barracuda hugged her then conceded, probably because arguing about it was wasting too much time.
She didn’t even bother to put on shoes before they darted out of the cabin.
Roman immediately began searching the area around the cute bungalow while she sprinted over to the one Gavyn had been staying in. The door smashed against the wall with a bang. It was pretty clear he hadn’t been there since he’d retrieved his suit the day before. The bed was neatly made. Everything was in order.
Still, she checked the bathroom and the floor before giving up hope that he’d come over here to sleep off the champagne. They hadn’t gotten lucky enough for him to quit with that one bottle. She could attest to his tenacity. If he drank like he fucked, then this was going to be bad.
Really bad.
Amber muffled a sob then dashed back outside, nearly colliding with Roman.
“He’s not in here,” she reported.
“Not anywhere outside either.”
They looked at each other, exchanging panic. Her eyes closed and she thought of all the places he could have gone. Just then, Barracuda’s phone rang.
He answered, putting it on speaker. “What do you have, Meep?”
“Good news. All the vehicles are accounted for, including Gavyn’s chopper,” Carver told them. “He’s still here. Somewhere.”
Amber’s worry eased a tiny bit as she erased images of him splattered across the pavement from the horrific reel of movies running through her imagination. “Thank God.”
“Got it. Thanks. Can you get the rest of the gang, and the crew too, to help search?” Roman asked.
“On it,” he confirmed. Then, just before he hung up, he said, “I love you, Roman. Tell Amber I love her too.”
Roman looked at the disconnected phone in his hand and then to her. He assured her, “We’ll find him.”
How cold had it gotten the night before? The rain had brought some cooler air behind it. Though they were on the downhill slide to summer, she was shivering after only a few minutes of exposure. Or maybe that was sheer terror causing her to tremble.
Where would he have likely gone?
“Oh no.” She looked up and found Roman staring back at her as if he’d had the same idea simultaneously.
“The bar. Everything is still in the pavilion, isn’t it?” He grimaced.
“My fault. It’s my damn fault. I knew it was a problem for him and I didn’t have it taken away.” She couldn’t help the tears that fell from her eyes. How could she have been so lax that she didn’t protect the one person who’d needed her lately?
“I told you, this is not your responsibility.” Roman frightened her a little with the ferocity of his snarl. “Look, I hurt Carver with my bullshit too. And I guarantee that’s the last thing Gavyn would want for you right now. He owns this. Me too, for not answering the motherfucking phone after I said I would. But we have to put that aside for now. Let’s find him first. There will be plenty of time for playing what if later.”
Amber nodded. She still couldn’t help the guilt eating her alive. They both knew there would be so many nights filled with regret that none of them would escape unscathed.
Except Roman hadn’t seen the sides of Gavyn she had. He was generous, funny, smart and kind, when life allowed him to be. Anything she’d done to obstruct his progress would haunt her for the rest of her days.
Worse, if he had—
She couldn’t bring herself to think of what might have happened to him.
Instead, she jumped off the porch and sprinted for the wedding pavilion. Although Roman had been flat-footed, he caught up quickly then surpassed her pace. Probably he didn’t want her stumbling over Gavyn’s corpse if he’d choked to death on his own vomit.
The thought nearly made her black out.
Amber tripped. Gravel skinned her knees. She picked herself up and kept going despite the warm trickles of blood she could feel running down her shins.
Pumping her arms, she ran faster.
Roman shouted, “Son of a bitch!” By his tone, she could tell he hadn’t found what he was looking for. Was that a good sign or a bad one?
Barreling into the pavilion, she was shocked at the mess.
Empty bottles littered the bar. Several of them were broken, along with a slew of glasses and the mirror showcasing the liquor, as if Gavyn had raged as he poisoned himself.
Amber swallowed hard. Why had this happened?
She’d gone to sleep steeped in euphoria. Hadn’t he?
What had caused him to be so angry? What had she done wrong?
“Gavyn?” Roman bellowed as he hunted around, flipping the tables to search beneath them while she rummaged through the shrubs nearby.
Something in Amber’s gut told her he hadn’t stuck around after he’d gotten his fill.
Think! she screamed at herself, though it was practically impossible given the galloping of her heart, the unanswered questions barraging her mind and the adrenaline-fueled horror pegging her vitals at the moment.
Where would he go?
She looked at the smashed bar and scoured her mind for anything that might bring
him comfort.
“I know his favorite place at the resort. The hammock over the koi pond.” Amber took off, not waiting for Roman, who could easily catch up given his longer stride and the boots he’d been sensible enough to tug on before coming to check up on Gavyn.
She skipped the less direct paved paths, not caring about the branches that slapped her exposed legs or even the one that smacked her cheek, causing her to shriek.
“Amber, hang on!” Roman shouted to her, but she didn’t listen. “Slow down!”
Unlike the methodical approach she’d have taken in any other situation, she trusted her instincts and flew. Cutting through the flower gardens might have been a mistake, given the number of rose bushes and the thorns that shredded Gavyn’s shirt. Still, the minor pains had nothing on her mounting terror.
After drinking everything they’d seen empty at the bar, he was in serious trouble. At least, she hoped he was still in danger and not beyond assistance.
She smashed through the last of the greenery separating her from the spot she’d first truly made out with Gavyn, and nearly toppled into the pond.
He was there.
Facedown.
Unmoving.
Buck-naked.
His skin bearing an unnatural blue tint.
“No!” Amber screamed. The sound seemed to come from far away in her mind, as if it had been made by a mortally wounded animal somewhere on the mountainside.
“Amber!” Roman shouted from close behind as he joined her. “Oh no. No. Gavyn! Fuck, no.”
“Shut up.” Gavyn groaned, clutched his head then puked into the pond.
He wasn’t dead.
Oh God. Amber’s heart nearly pounded out of her chest. Her feet were glued to the grass. About that time, Carver charged into the area, clued in to their location by their shrieks, no doubt.
“Help me get him,” Roman begged Carver. Meep didn’t need to be asked. He’d already climbed onto the knotted rope, making it rock.
Which only made Gavyn more ill.
Amber hoped that was a good thing, clearing some of the alcohol from his system. Still she couldn’t make herself budge.
When Roman clamped his hand around Gavyn’s ankle, he hissed. “He’s freezing.”