One Night Bride

by Brooks, Sarah J.

“Well, yeah, it was, um is, just some crazy thing, but I don’t know. I’m worried about her. I’m probably getting into something I shouldn’t, but I can’t just drop it. I feel like I need to find her.”

  “Probably getting into something?” he interrupted.

  “Definitely getting myself into something, but I can’t not do it. I just …” words had truly escaped me.

  “I feel that way with Crystal; I really do. I know people think she’s a plastic bitch, but it’s just a wall she puts up. She’s a pretty solid person.” He flashed me a warm and loving smile. “I see the her no one else does.”

  “I’m happy for you.” And I was. I finally got a chance to understand what he saw in her.

  “I hope the same for you one day, I really do. Okay, enough gushing and go get on your white horse and bring your girl back home. Then dump her or make her your plus-one. Just be at the Shakespeare Garden by noon; it’s all I ask.” He looked worried, but I reassured him.

  “I’ll be there! Or die.” I laughed.

  “I’ll hold you to it.”

  With that, he left. I finished packing, took a car to the airport, and got on my white horse … secretly hoping she was worth it.

  Chapter 14

  Arcadia

  We finally made it to Mexico City. I felt like I’d been on the bus my entire life, it was endless and sad. I folded up the blanket and neatly gave it back to the old lady beside me and thanked her over and over again. I was so happy to have her company on the trip; she provided the hovering comfort I needed. Two days on the bus was a really long time. I’d slept through the lunch stop, and she bought me another burrito, I guess noticing I’d gotten one the day before. I offered her money for it, but she refused to take it. Two days and two burritos and a handful of fruit later, I was finally in Mexico City.

  We gathered up our things and waited in a line to exit the bus. She knew how sad I was because she kept looking back at me with a questioning glance as if to ask had I anywhere to go? I tried to put on a brave face, even though I didn’t want to answer the question, not even to myself. As we exited, I turned to her and thanked her one last time, opening my arms to embrace her. We gave each other a tentative hug, and she said something very sweet-sounding in Spanish that I didn’t understand. I gave her the biggest smile I could muster, and she appreciated the effort as she took up my hand, patted it, and turned to leave.

  I watched her sigh and give me one last look, then she walked away to greet happy little children who rushed her with their parents. She was a loved grandmother. My heart crushed a little, wishing I had someone left in my life. I had friends, good friends, but I couldn’t reach out to them and tell them where I was; it was too dangerous for them and would be devastating for me. I would have to go missing. The only way I could think to get out of this was to go into hiding, which meant not seeing them for a very long time.

  I had friends at school and at the shop who I considered family, and to them, I would have just vanished into thin air. I didn’t want to start crying again, but I felt unsettled and uneasy as if I could wither and die at any moment.

  Everything was foreign and uncomfortable. Mexico City was loud and bustling with honking cars, colorful colonial architecture, and people everywhere. I wanted to explore the city, but I felt like a ghost. I didn’t even think I deserved to travel; all I wanted to do was hide and stay hidden. I knew I had another long bus journey ahead of me, but I really needed breakfast and a shower. I wasn’t sure if either were in my future; however, I was hopeful. I was feeling strangely lost and disoriented when I entered the bus terminal. I knew I needed to search out a bus to Costa Rica because if I booked a flight my father’s people might be able to find me on a flight list. He’d never think of my taking the bus to Costa Rica; it was a perfect hiding place, for now. Being alone and so isolated was wearing me down. I could feel myself shattering inside as I was barely holding myself together.

  It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the low light of the terminal, but I could have sworn I saw Xavier sitting on a seat in front of me wearing jeans and a neatly pressed dress shirt. I blinked away the allusion a few times, trying to block out the haze. I must’ve really been going nuts if I was hallucinating he was here; it only made my heart hurt more. Butterflies swam across my vision when I heard his deep and commanding tone.

  “Arcadia?” was all he said.

  My heart raced, and the world spun. He stood up, and suddenly I felt sick. Hot, overwhelming nausea gripped me, and every nerve in my body turned to ice. My mouth went sandpaper dry. What was happening? Before I could get a grip on myself, everything vanished with a thin and evaporating whoosh. I passed out just as his arms reached out to catch me. When the world came into focus again, I was sitting on a hard bench smelling spice and stale cigarettes as cool ice water touched my lips from a flimsy plastic cup.

  “It’s okay, Arcadia. Just take it easy,” his deep voice rumbled behind me.

  I took another sip of the icy water, not ready to speak yet. My skin began to radiate heat, and tendrils of sensation returned. He brought the cup to my lips again.

  “Have some more,” he commanded as I focused on breathing in and out.

  After a few more sips, I noticed Xavier was coursing his hand over my back, making careful and tender spirals as he continued to encourage me to drink the water. Hot air filled my lungs, and the familiar weight of existence pressed down on me again. Why, how, was he here?

  “Xavier?” I finally had the nerve to ask, craning my neck up to see his face.

  He was clean shaven and still so beautiful.

  He chuckled. “Yes, your husband.” His hand threaded through my hair trying to untangle the mess perched on my head. “I think we need to get you something to eat and then maybe you can explain why we are in Mexico City?” His voice was kind, but there was a thread of irritation running through it.

  “I’m sorry I stole your clothes,” I confessed with my head bowed.

  He outright laughed. “You think you feel well enough to stand?” He was caring and attentive.

  “Sure,” I said bolting out of my seat. Blood rushed to my head, which almost toppled me again.

  “Nope, not ready. Sit down.” His words were strong and commanding. “Do you have any luggage?” he asked looking at the door I’d walked through, worrying if I had left anything out there.

  “Only this,” I answered nodding to my backpack still slung loosely on my back.

  “Okay,” he said nestling me into his arms. “Just rest a little more.” His hands went back to work on my hair as I leaned into his strong chest.

  My eyes were tired from crying, and my stare was vacant and shocked. I hadn’t quite come to terms with anything that was happening. I let him work his fingers through my hair as his other arm held me close. Despite trying desperately not to cry, tears oozed slowly from my eyes. His hands left my hair and traced their line down my cheek, silent for the moment. After wiping the tears from my eyes and tenderly caressing my face, he leaned down to me, his warm sensuous breath in my ear.

  “You stole my favorite pair of pants,” he seductively teased, “… and, Mrs. Dean, I wonder, what kind of wife runs off while on honeymoon without her husband?” His hand gently swirled across my breast as he turned my tear-stained face towards his. “If you’re in trouble, just let me know. I won’t judge you. I’m here to help.” His voice was firm but gentle. “Are you okay?”

  All I could do was shake my head “no” and that was enough for him; he picked me up and carried me in his arms.

  “I’m getting you out of here.” He was stern and authoritative, almost too much so. “You don’t have other plans, do you? Is Mexico City your endgame? Is this where you planned on having our honeymoon?” His attempt at humor was sweet yet cutting.

  I curled into him and mumbled into his chest, “Not really.”

  “I’m going to get you something to eat.” His voice cracked fractionally, trying not to command, his alpha personality slipping throu
gh.

  I’d met him when he was impossibly drunk, and so was I. By the time we’d sobered up, we were pretty deep into each other, literally, so I truly didn’t know the man carrying me out of the bus terminal. I had a vague understanding of who he was, most of it was rumor. He was either a womanizing asshole or a gay man covering his tracks. He was infamous for being “detailed” which often read controlling, and he was one of the most handsome men on the planet, according to People Magazine.

  “I’m starving,” was all I could say as conversation was still a bit elusive. I was working through my shock.

  “You look like you’re starving love,” he ruffled my hair, “and a bit road worn. I bet you’d like a nice shower too.” He smiled, still carrying me in his arms.

  “Do I stink?” I immediately worried.

  He laughed, “No, but you look like you should be in a post-apocalyptic zombie film. A bit of hot water and soap will do wonders. But first, some breakfast. I have a hotel just down the street. I’d be delighted to carry you while we wait for my car; however, would you like to walk?” He was offering me choices, that seemed surprising.

  “Yes please,” I said, finding my voice again.

  Once out in the fresh, hot air, I found my balance returning. I looked at him, a little embarrassed and still mostly shocked. “Sorry I fainted.” I flashed him a big fake grin as he sat me down on the hot pavement.

  “I’m just glad I caught you.” He flashed the same grin back at me. Shit, I wasn’t wiggling away from this. “I’m sure you’ll have a lot to share with me over breakfast.” His voice softened some. “… And I have some eyedrops in my suitcase if you want them.” His finger grazed my cheek. “Your eyes are so red; it must be quite painful.”

  I closed them for a moment, trying not to cry again. “I’m okay.” My words caught in my throat.

  “Mexican food all right? The hotel has a very nice restaurant. I’ve been here since yesterday morning. I can’t say I know the area well, but it’s the nicest restaurant in the area, in my opinion.”

  I gave him a warm smile. “I’m good with anything as long as it’s not a burrito.”

  “Had your fair share of those, I assume. Well, this will be quite a nice change from a roadside hole in the wall. My mom took me on a long bus trip once to Chicago. It was just about the most miserable thing I’ve ever done. I feel your pain. I think she was contemplating leaving my dad on that trip; her eyes looked much the way yours do,” his voice tapered off. “I tend to get a little pushy and too personal, bit of a character flaw,” he brushed off nonchalantly. “Let me know if my prying becomes uncomfortable.”

  “It’s okay.” I rubbed my hand on his back. It was so strong and lean; it brought back memories of raking my nails across it as he filled me to the hilt. My body ached for him, for that absolute fullness. “I have a lot to explain.”

  “You don’t if you don’t want to. I’m just very relieved to see you’re safe.” His eyes glinted in the sunlight as the car pulled up to the curb.

  Chapter 15

  Xavier

  I was so relieved to see her again. She came through the door like an angel descending from heaven, yet as soon as she walked into the clearer light, I noticed the shattered look on her ghostly white face. Her hair rumpled, she seemed like the weight of the world had crushed her soul. All I wanted to do was scoop her into my arms and hold her close. She was a woman I barely knew, one I’d traveled to another country to find, and as I saw her standing there looking so small and lost, all I wanted to tell her was I’d help her in any way she needed.

  She was a fraction of the woman I’d met three days ago at the craps table whose ass beckoned me from across the room. Gone was the girl who inspired me to get a tattoo and marry on a whim. Seeing this change told me something was very wrong. She looked weak and disoriented. When I saw her skin go white, and her eyes glaze over, I rushed to her. I’d only seen one person faint before. It was a model who had that same distant look before she crumbled to the floor just before stepping out on the catwalk.

  The model hadn’t eaten in two days to ensure she could wear her garment. Arcadia had that same starving expression. I was able to catch her before she fell to the dirty floor. As soon as I caught her in my arms, we were the main attraction. The few travelers who lingered near us all directed their attention our way. I didn’t speak much Spanish and now regretted not studying harder in high school, but fashion was my thing, so I couldn’t be bothered to care what my Spanish teacher was saying. Now, I cared. I had a lifeless woman in my arms and no way to get her help.

  People just stood around.

  “Could I get some water, please? Agua por favor?” I knew I was talking to the air, but hoping someone would come to our rescue.

  After a few suspended moments in time during which I lifted Arcadia up and placed her in the seat next to me, stroking her and saying her name over and over trying to revive her, someone walked over with a plastic cup full of icy cold water.

  “Agua, Senior,” the elderly man said as he placed the cup of water in my hand.

  I nodded my head to him and offered a genuine smile. “Gracias, muchas gracias,” I said as he returned the smile and dropped back into the hovering group of people.

  As soon as Arcadia’s eyes opened, people seemed to lose interest in us and went about their way. Perhaps they felt the language barrier as strongly as I did. Whatever the reason, they dispersed leaving me to bring Arcadia around. I put the cup to her lips.

  “It’s okay, Arcadia …” I was replaying the scene in my head, trying to unravel the mystery sitting beside me in the car, her head slung on my shoulder; silent.

  I pulled her into me, wrapping my arms around her small frame, hoping she felt protected.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” That didn’t come out as I’d planned. I actually did want her to say something, desperately, but she needed to make her own choices. “I want to help you if I can, but if it’s too much … if my being here is wrong, you let me know.”

  “Thank you,” her tiny voice replied.

  I smoothed my hand over her hopelessly tangled hair, my fingers gently finding a way to work through the knots. Finding my efforts fruitless and perhaps insulting, I let my hand drop to her back; she wasn’t wearing a bra, just my shirt. I tried very hard to make sure my cock didn’t get ideas of its own. There were a time and place for sex, and with Arcadia, my cock must have thought it was always. I wish it knew how to behave; it was very inopportune for it to be trying to get her attention at that moment. She needed more than my cock. She needed to know me and know I was here for her.

  It was only about 10 minutes from the bus terminal to the finest hotel in Mexico City. It was high up on a steep hill with a view of the entire metropolis. The car pulled to the door, and I helped her out. Her eyes widened as soon as we arrived, and she saw the grounds. It was very obvious she hadn’t been lavished often.

  “Which would you like first? A shower or food?” I asked as we neared the lobby.

  A beautiful smile crossed her expression. “I’d like a shower please.” Her voice was still a little tremulous, but she was coming around.

  “A shower it is then.” I squeezed her tight in a brotherly fashion, hating that I couldn’t seduce her, but wanting her to feel safe.

  “I only have these,” she said, unslinging the backpack from her shoulders to pull out two of the most hideous pieces of clothing I’d ever seen. “Other than your favorite pants. I don’t have anything else to wear.” Her face fell.

  “Oh no, no, no.” I laughed. “You will not be wearing those. You’re a size four. I’ll find you something to wear while you shower.”

  She flashed me a relieved smile. “Thank you so much. I have cash; I’ll pay you for whatever you get.” Was she serious? I thought that was so cute as she reached in her bag to retrieve her wallet.

  I halted her hand and kissed it. “I’ve got this. It will be my pleasure.”

  “
Thank you,” she said almost starting to cry.

  I moved her toward the large bank of elevators. “Let’s get you settled, and then I’ll go shopping.”

  Her face broke into a beautiful smile. There she was, the girl I’d flash-married. All I needed to do was get her a shower, a nap and some food, and she would be my Arcadia again. Wonder danced in her eyes as she saw the room. I always got the best; this particular room was a bit too opulent even for me, but I wanted to make sure if I did find her and brought her here, she and I would enjoy our stay. At least I very much hoped I’d get to enjoy her again.

  I kept those thoughts to myself knowing she needed food and stability.

  “Okay, so here is the bathroom,” I said as I opened the door to the incredible bathing room with a tub big enough to fit a few people. Frankly, the tub was the reason I chose this hotel and this room in particular. I so wanted to play in that tub with her. Knowing my size was a bit of an issue, the hot water and steam would help.

  “This place is insane,” she cooed. There she was, coming back.

  Her eyes glinted at mine after seeing the tub. I just winked at her and flashed a smarmy grin. “I’m going to get you some clothes.”

  “Thanks again.” Her face crumbled some.

  “It’s my pleasure, Arcadia. I’m going to have fun dressing you,” I paused, hesitant to say the rest, “… and undressing you. If that’s what you want, later …” I let my voice trail off.

  Her eyes sparkled, and she stared at me deeply. “You’re amazing,” was all she said as she turned and opened the shower door and turned on the water.

  While it wasn’t an answer to my request, it was enough. “Enjoy your shower, love,” I said and slowly closed the door behind me.

  When she was safely in the bathroom I left and asked the concierge for the nearest boutique; something fancy and upscale. The driver took me to a small elegant place with vibrant clothing that expressed the joy of this incredible city. I found her five or six dresses comparable to the one she wore in Vegas. I also gathered up a few pairs of jeans and soft T-shirts. I knew I already had quite a few pairs of my underwear for her to wear to bed, although I’d hoped she wouldn’t need to wear them.