Hitched

by Dawn Rae Miller

"What are you doing?" Fletch yells. "That water has to be frigid this time of year."

  I paddle back to the beach until I'm in the shallow water. Then I stand, my hair dripping like seaweed over my breasts, and walk out of the water. Icy shivers run all along my body.

  Fletch waits with my clothes in hand. But instead of giving them to me, he drops them and pulls me into an embrace.

  "This," he says. "Is the woman I've missed. This is the one I love."

  It's not at all awkward, standing naked on the beach with Fletch's arms around me. In fact, it feels normal. Like I'm home.

  "Let's get you dressed before you die of hypothermia on me." He scoops up my clothes and hands them to me. I pull out the dress and slip it over my head, then I ball up my bra and panties inside my cardigan.

  "You're shivering."

  "I just plunged into freezing cold water. Of course, I'm shivering." But the truth is, some of those shivers come from his words.

  We hold hands as we walk back to the pavilion. I'm keenly aware that someone may see us, but I don't care. Everything just feels right.

  "You need to change into dry clothes," Fletch says.

  “I’m fine,” I lie. My teeth chatter.

  “Ellie, I don’t want you getting sick.”

  “I never get sick.” And it’s true. I have an impressive immune system, but I doubt Fletch wants to here about it. I’m even boring myself.

  The pavilions are empty now, except for the caterers and band that’s breaking down for the night. Oh, and Calista. She stands off in the shadows, clipboard in hand, rattling off directions.

  I start off in her direction, intent on giving the lying bitch a piece of my mind, but Fletch grabs me and pulls me back.

  “Why—“

  “Because no matter what you say, this will hurt her more.” He pulls me into an embrace and kisses me deeply. His tongue gently glides around my mouth and tangles with mine. When we break apart, my eyes dart to where Calista was standing, but she’s gone.

  “Don’t worry, Elle. She saw.”

  I suppose I should feel dirty or shameful for kissing Fletch just to get back at Calista, but I don’t. I feel victorious.

  “Now about those clothes. You can’t possible be warm. Even with the heat lamps.”

  I slip my hand in his. “I am freezing.”

  “Let’s get you up to the house and changed.”

  I look around one last time, hoping to catch a glance of Calista, but she’s no where to be found.

  While shivering, I lead Fletch back to the house.

  "Help me," I say.

  Fletch cocks his head and confusion clouds his face. "Help you?"

  A devious smile spreads across my lips. "Help me change."

  "In your room?"

  "Where else would you like me to change? In yours, perhaps?" I'm being saucy now. Teasing him.

  "Come here," he growls, pulling me closer, and nuzzling into my neck. The next thing I know, Fletch is carrying me up the stairs to where our rooms are. He sets me down on the landing. "Which way, Elle. It's your choice."

  Brady has conveniently placed Fletch and me in rooms across from each other. I turn to the left, toward where our rooms are and come to a hard stop. What am I asking him? Do I want to have him back to my room?

  Yes, yes I do.

  I open the door to my room. "Please don't make me wait," I say.

  He hurries through, and I shut the door. When I turn around, he presses me against it, his hands holding mine above my head. His lips are on mine, hungry and desperate. I curl my fingers around his, and our breath falls into a pattern. I inhale, he exhales.

  "Ellie, what have you done to me?"

  When I close my eyes, I can almost imagine none of the past two years has happened. Almost.

  I break away and push Fletch toward my bed. "How many girls have you had in the past two years?"

  "None."

  My mouth opens slightly, but before I can say anything, Fletch reaches up and runs his hand up my side. He stops just short of my breast, and I silently will him to move a little higher.

  "How could I when my heart beats for someone else?" he says, his fingers creeping higher.

  I hang my head. In my attempt to get over Fletch, I've had a string of boyfriends, Michael being the latest. It was like a dating plan to get me over Fletch.

  Only it never worked. Not once. I kept hoping I'd find a guy like him - either in looks or personality or hopefully, both.

  How stupid I was.

  "Forgive me, Ellie."

  "For what?"

  "For being a dick and disappearing on you. For listening to Calista that you were shallow and wanted to leave me. For making decisions that impacted both of us without your input."

  “Shhh,” I say as I crawl onto the bed, keeping my hips high. “I couldn't keep you out of my mind. It didn't matter if you were talking to me or not, I couldn't stop thinking of you."

  He lies down next to me, and places his hand on my hip. "Is this okay?"

  I nod.

  "And is this?" He pulls me down and kisses me again. Softer this time. Like he's savoring the moment. I kiss him back and tug at the edge of his shirt. Fletch sits up and lets me pull it off. When he's topless, I yank my dress over my head, exposing my naked self.

  Fletch runs his hands over my thigh, stopping just short of my delicate pink parts, and I quiver.

  "You're overdressed," I say.

  ‘So I am.” He jumps up and pulls off his shorts and boxer briefs. I stare at his muscular chest and bulging biceps in awe. He’s so different than the was two years ago.

  “What?” he asks.

  “You’re so…so…” I search for the right word. “Manly.”

  We're both naked, and he’s standing before me, his manhood at my eye level. I fall back onto the bed and giggle.

  “What’s so funny?” Fletch says. “Or is that your Ellie nervous laugh.”

  “Nervous laugh,” I answer.

  Fletch flops down next to me, and I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Don’t be nervous, Elle. We’ll take this at your pace.”

  I roll on top of him and sit up, my legs straddling his bulkier frame. I play with his chest hair. "I've been dreaming about this for two years, William Fletcher Colson. Don't let me down."

  "I'll never let you down again."

  I laugh and lean forward to kiss him, but he rolls me over, so that he's on top of me.

  "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, pressing his hips into me. The heat of his body mingles with mine, creating a bubble of warmth around us.

  Do I? Just a few hours ago we were awkward around each other. And that's not to mention how we barely spoke yesterday.

  Do I want this? I wrap my legs around Fletch and pull him into me. He gasps.

  "Yes," I say, savoring the feeling of being connected to Fletch again. "A thousand time yes."

  Part Three: SATURDAY

  Chapter Fourteen

  Early morning light spills through the windows of my room. In our haste last night, neither Fletch nor I pulled the curtains shut. Which is why it’s eight-thirty in the morning, and I'm wide awake.

  Fletch however, sleeps soundly. He holds my hand in his sleep, and my leg is thrown over his. We're tangled up in each other and the sheets.

  I lie there, savoring the comforting rise and fall of Fletch's chest. Last night he whispered so many things to me. Promises of us being together, of making it work. Oaths of fidelity and love.

  I wonder how they'll hold up in the daylight.

  Slowly, so as to not wake Fletch, I unravel myself from his grasp. He stirs, but doesn't flutter his eyes open. Looking at him like this brings back so many memories - both good and bad.

  Like the time we had a fight. It was over something silly, something I can't remember now, but at the time I was devastated. How could we not be on the same page when we loved each other? Did it mean we were doomed?

  Now I know that arguing is a healthy part of r
elationships. Not necessarily full-on fighting, but disagreeing is okay.

  Fletch rolls over and pulls a sheet over him. "Ellie?" he whispers. His hand reaches out to where I was, and not finding me, he sits up abruptly. "Ellie?" he calls again.

  "Shhh. I'm right here," I say from the opposite side of the bed.

  He turns his head toward me. "I thought you were gone."

  "No. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

  Fletch rolls over and grabs my hands, pulling me back into the bed. He buries his face in my hair. "God, I've missed this."

  I've missed it too. I've missed everything about Fletch - his voice, his hands, his quirky sense of humor. I've even missed his aggressive side. The side that knows exactly what it wants and how to get it. That's the side that makes him able to run a company like GroundFloor. That's the side I encouraged to come out.

  Fletch's body melds into mine, and slowly, some of the bricks in the Ellie wall crumble.

  My body shakes in his arms.

  "What's wrong? Are you cold?" Fletch grabs at the blanket and pulls it over me.

  "I'm not cold," I say. Tears sting my eyes. "I'm just worried this will all end tomorrow. You’re flying back to San Francisco, and I'm going back to Boston. And well…"

  "Ellie," Fletch says, kissing the top of my head. "I'm not going to let that happen, okay? I'm never letting you go again."

  The rich warmth of love settles inside me, and for the first time in years, I'm at peace. It's as if the endless parade of boyfriends and the need to drink has evaporated. I have everything I need right here.

  "Can I ask you a question?" I say.

  Fletch props up on one arm. "Ask me anything."

  "What did you expect when you heard I would be here?"

  He closes his eyes, and his chest rises. "I tried so hard to forget you, but I never could. All the memories, they crushed me until there were times when I felt I couldn't breathe. I didn't want to leave you, Ellie."

  I understand that, but it doesn't answer my question. "But what did you expect?"

  "That you’d be here with…with your boyfriend. That I’d spend the entire weekend trying to hide my feelings for you.” He strokes my arm and pinpricks of heat scatter out across my skin. "And if, and I mean if, you talked to me, I wanted to apologize.” He pauses. “How about you? What did you expect?”

  I run my tongue across the back of my teeth before answering. “That I’d spend the weekend avoiding you. That you’d be some pompous ass, running your empire, off with Calista and too busy for me.”

  “We kind of started off that way didn’t we?” he says.

  “Yeah, we did.” I clasp my hands together. “What do you think now?”

  “I can see us together.” He pauses and looks into my eyes. “But I don’t want you to turn into a woman like my mom or Calista. I want you to be you.”

  "What do you mean ‘like your mom or Calista?’"

  "Neither of them have any ambition other than marrying well. Look at my mom. Now that Dad's gone, she's lost. She has no marketable skills, and she only dates wealthy men. She's miserable." Fletch rests his palm against the side of my face. "Calista is the same way. Hell, she'd marry Brady herself if she could figure out a way to do it."

  "And you worry I’ll become the same way?"

  "No. But I want you to have a life that’s all yours." He winks at me. “I’m just the side benefit.”

  "Will you do this by making us both miserable again?" I ask.

  "I didn't think you were miserable. Brady told me all about your boyfriends. You seemed to be moving on just fine."

  "I wasn't. I used them to forget you, but it never worked." I press my hand against the one he has over my cheek. "You were never out of my mind. It was like I was in a fog, and the guys were one way to forget how badly I missed you."

  "And the drinking?"

  "Anything to numb myself."

  "Oh, Elle, what have we done?" He kisses my forehead, and looks deeply into my eyes.

  "We didn't communicate. You should have told me what happened. I should have been more forceful with my phone calls. I should have come to see you when I was in San Francisco."

  "Why didn't you?"

  "Because of everything Calista told me earlier. When I ran into her in Union Square, she simply reinforced it.”

  "And you believed her?" he says in disbelief. "You know how she is."

  "But you were all over the tabloids and magazines. Calista was your girlfriend as far as I knew. And Brady never spoke about you - especially not your girlfriends."

  "That's because there never were any girlfriends."

  I nod. "I believe you." I press my forehead against his. "Tell me you love me."

  His hand reaches behind my neck, and he plays with my hair. "I love you, Ellie Jacobs."

  "I love you too, Fletch Colson."

  My heart is whole again; the brick wall I erected has fallen.

  We cuddle on my bed for a few more minutes. I don't know how we're going to make this work, but I don't care right now. All that matters is that Fletch is by my side. He's holding me in his arms, breathing me in, loving me.

  A soft knock on the door breaks my bliss.

  "Ellie?" Brady says from the other side of the door. "Are you in there?"

  I eye Fletch, unsure if he wants our whatever it is to go public. He juts his chin toward the door. I climb out of bed and wrap myself in a blanket. "I'm coming."

  When I open the door, Brady stands there looking distraught. "I can't find Fletch or Sophie. Do you know—"

  "I'm right here," Fletch says from the comfort of my bed.

  Brady's eyes grow wide, and his smile follows. "I knew it. I totally called this one."

  "What do you need, Brady?" I say conscious of the fact that I'm wrapped only in a thin blanket.

  "I need Fletch to help me find Sophie. No one has seen her since breakfast - which you two missed.”

  "Don't you know it's bad luck to see the bride on the day of the wedding?" I say.

  Brady's still in the hallway, and I'm kind of hiding behind the door. Fletch, meanwhile, seems completely unembarrassed to be lying in my bed, naked.

  "I've heard that it's bad luck to have the bride go missing," Brady says with a hint of desperation.

  Fletch jumps out of bed, his nakedness on full display, and pulls on his boxer briefs and jeans. His shirt is across the room, near me, so I toss it at him.

  Brady darts his gaze between Fletch and me. "You know, now that you two have made up, you should get married."

  I chortle. Married? Fletch and me? No, we're not getting married anytime soon. "Sure, whatever you say, Brady."

  Fletch kisses my cheek. "I'll see you later today?"

  "No running away. I promise."

  He gives me that lopsided smile I love so much before disappearing out into the hallway with Brady.

  My room is mess. Sheets and blankets are everywhere, as are my clothes. I begin picking it all up, folding my clothes, and selecting something new to wear.

  What did Fletch and I do last night? Are we a couple again? Does he know that I can't go through another break-up with him? That it will destroy me?

  My phone buzzes. I automatically pick it up. Michael. Ugh. Such amazing timing.

  "Hello," I say. I don't force myself to sound happy. Which I was, up until this moment.

  "Ellie! Good morning," Michael's enthusiasm is a bit much for me right now. Especially given that I technically just cheated on him.

  "Hey, Michael."

  "How are things going? You doing okay? I miss you." He's so damn sincere it kills me.

  I exhale loudly. "Things are going well. Fletch is here, and we had a chance to talk."

  "Oh yeah?" Michael says tensely. "What did he have to say?"

  I sigh. This isn't going to be easy, but I have to do it. "I think we should break up."

  "What?" From the sound of Michael's voice, I know I've caught him off guard.

  I clench and uncl
ench my fist. "I don't think we're going anywhere. Relationship-wise. We're barely in the same city once a month."

  "Ellie, you're just saying this because you've drunk the Fletch Kool-aid again."

  "No. It's more than that. I — we — slept together."

  "You cheated on me?" Michael's voice raises an octave.

  From past experience, I know it's best to just put it all out there. "Yes."

  "Damn it, Ellie. Damn it all. I should never have let you go without me."

  "Let me go?"

  "You know what I mean." Michael's talking fast now. "Just come home, and we'll talk about this. Everything will be okay."

  I shake my head even though he can't see it. "No. I'm sorry, but we're done."

  "Ellie," he says. But I don't answer. I hang up my phone before he can say anything else.

  With wobbly legs, I carry myself back over to the bed and lean against it. I really hope I didn't just make the second biggest mistake of my life.

  Chapter Fifteen

  When I'm done getting ready, I venture down into the great room.

  Big mistake.

  It's a hub of activity, with people running this way and that. I spot Paige in the chaos.

  "Hey," I say as I dodge a woman on her cell phone speaking rapid-fire French. "What's going on?"

  Paige lifts her eyebrows and shakes her head. "Sophie's missing."

  "Missing as in she skipped breakfast, or missing as in no one knows where she is?"

  "The latter," Paige says. She elbows me in the ribs. "See, I told you so. She has a bad case of cold feet."

  "But the wedding isn't for another seven hours," I say. "I'm sure she'll turn up."

  Paige shrugs. "Who knows?"

  I scan the room until I spot Brady, Fletch, and Calista. The three of them are speaking animatedly. Brady's hands gesture wildly, while Fletch and Calista take turns grabbing at him. "What's going on over there?"

  Paige rolls her eyes. "Calista wants to send out a search party, but Brady thinks they should wait her out. That she'll come back once she's gotten everything out her system."

  "Is there any food left?" I say, showing I could care less if Sophie is missing or not. It's not like someone waltzed in and stole the bride. Besides a very large part of me doesn’t want to see this wedding happen.