Take Me

by Diane Alberts

  “Yeah. I know you two called it quits. And he didn’t seem too happy about it.”

  Morgan stole a quick peek at Mike, then focused on her hands again. If she stared at him too long, he might sense someone watching him. “He looks fine to me.”

  Al shrugged. “He’s not.”

  “Well, neither am I.” She licked her lips and turned to Al, not knowing why she was about to spill her guts out to a stranger but also not caring. “I’m here because I’m not happy, either. I want him back.”

  “I don’t think you ever lost him.” Al motioned to the altar. “He’s still wearing his ring, and I see you are, too. Maybe you never really ended. Maybe you two just had your first fight as a married couple.”

  She choked on a laugh. “I never wanted to get married.”

  “Neither did he.” Al ran his hand through his hair. “Believe me…neither did he.”

  The music struck up and the bride came down the aisle on the arm of Thomas. Morgan teared up at the pure happiness on Kiersten’s face. God, if she’d had to get married, she had wanted this. The wedding. The dress. Instead, she’d gotten a drunken night in Vegas and a pair of shorts.

  A night she didn’t even remember.

  Looking up at the altar, she saw Mike. He was watching Kiersten, the same bittersweet expression on his face that she suspected was on hers. Her heart twisted and she clung to her skirt even harder. She wanted to run up the aisle and throw herself in his arms. Hug him and tell him she loved him.

  But she couldn’t ruin the wedding.

  Al leaned in. “He would give you another wedding, if you wanted one. He’d do anything to make the person he loved happy.”

  “I know.” She swallowed hard. “I just hope he really does love me.”

  “Well, then, you’ll have to ask.”

  The rest of the wedding passed by in a blur, with a bit of laughter when Garrett kissed Kiersten before the priest officially married them. By the time they turned around and headed back down the aisle as man and wife, Morgan was a gooey-limbed mess. She stood up and smoothed her hair, hoping she didn’t look like the wreck she felt.

  The back of her neck tingled, as if someone were watching her. She lifted her head, and her gaze collided with Mike’s. He was still on the altar but he’d seen her. He stood there for a second, immobilized, and then he marched down the steps and headed for her. His steps were sure and his face inscrutable. He could be contemplating throwing her out on her ass, or he could be picturing her in his arms. God, she wanted him to pick her up and swing her in his arms and tell her he loved her again.

  His eyes darkened the closer he got to her and she shifted on her feet. Al stood and left her alone, abandoning ship before it sank. It was only her, Mike, and the priest in the room.

  Her heart raced, her body battling the nerve-wracking panic that usually came before a big audition. Except this was more important than an audition. This was her happily-ever-after that she was fighting for.

  She smoothed her dress and focused on the man walking towards her.

  Courage, don’t fail me now.

  Chapter Fifteen

  She had come. Morgan was here at his sister’s wedding but he had no idea why. He tried to read her face as he approached, tried to get a feel for what was going on inside her head, but she stared back at him with wide blue eyes and a pale face—while doing severe damage to her pretty blue dress.

  He clenched his own hands into fists and closed the distance between them. Then he stopped in front of her, making sure to keep a little bit of distance between them. Her sweet fragrance surrounded him and he closed his eyes while inhaling. Would he ever get to savor her scent again? Or was this a good-bye?

  “What are you doing here?” he asked as he opened his eyes and focused his gaze on her. His voice came out raspy.

  She flinched. “I promised I would come and I don’t like to break my promises, either.”

  “Oh.” So that’s all there was to it. The little bit of hope he’d clung to drifted away like a balloon in the breeze. “Right.”

  “No, that’s a lie.” She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “You walked away from me last night.”

  He had. It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it seemed like it was time.” He leaned against the pew, trying to pretend he wasn’t a tightly wound ball of nerves right now. “You were leaving and I said something I shouldn’t have…”

  Her lips parted and she moved closer to him. “What did you say that you shouldn’t have?”

  “I think we both know the answer to that.” He gritted his teeth. “But it was stupid. I promised you I wouldn’t want more but then I went ahead and asked for more anyway. That’s on me.”

  She rested her hand on his elbow and squeezed gently. “You can’t help the way you feel.”

  “Yeah, I can. But it’s over now.”

  “Is it?” She took a shaky breath. “Are you sure?”

  His heart sure didn’t seem to think they were over, but his head knew better. “You don’t need to feel bad or check in on me. I was good before I met you and I’ll be okay after meeting you, too. I’m not the kind of man to mope around after a woman once she leaves.”

  “Not even—?”

  “Not even.” He shrugged. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, since I was an idiot and said I loved you, but I’m not really into love and relationships. So this is a blessing in disguise. You can rest easy. I’ll be fine. No. I am fine.”

  “What if I’m not?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. She clenched her skirt again and licked her lips. “What if I’m miserable?”

  His heart leapt but he wrestled it down. “Why would you be miserable? You got the role of your life. Be happy. Celebrate. Get drunk—but don’t get married again until I get the divorce going.”

  She shook her head but didn’t laugh like he expected. Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want to get married again.”

  “Well, neither do I.” He took his hands out of his pockets. “I have to go get in the pictures and stuff. Thanks for coming. You don’t have to come to the reception.” He hugged her, maybe a little bit longer than necessary, but hell, he couldn’t help it. He loved her. “Good luck with your career. I expect updates letting me know how everything is going.”

  She clung to him when he stepped back. Or maybe that had been his imagination. She looked up at him with those shining bright blue eyes. God, Puss in Boots had nothing on her. “Right. I will.”

  “Good.” He opened his mouth, closed it and swallowed hard. There was nothing more to say. “Bye.”

  He turned on his heel and headed for the door, his entire body as rigid as a board. Shit, this was what a broken heart felt like. He felt bad for teasing Garrett about it last year. Man, this sucked donkey nuts. He rubbed the spot over his heart where he ached and flexed his jaw. He needed a stiff drink or ten.

  “Mike!” Morgan called out, her voice tinged with desperation. “Look at me.”

  He froze mid-step. “Why?”

  “I need you to look at me when I…” He heard the rustle of fabric as she approached. “I h-have to tell you something.”

  He grabbed the pew next to him, unable to stand straight. “Okay.” He turned around and met her eyes. What he saw there gave him reason to breathe again. Gave him reason to remember why he’d married her. Why he wanted to stay married to her.

  “I don’t want to get married again because I want to stay married to you. Even though I didn’t want to love anyone or be married, you made me change my mind. You said all along that maybe we knew what we were doing when we woke up married and I think you’re right. I think Drunk Morgan was the smartest she’d ever been.” She broke off and laughed
nervously. “And now I’m referring to myself in the third person. That’s fabulous.”

  His heartbeat, which had dropped to his feet like an anvil at the beginning of their conversation, now boomed in his chest. “Morgan? What are you trying to say?”

  She held out her hands. “That I want to be your wife, and I…I love you. And I hope you love me, like you said last night. Well, screamed, actually. But I hope you’re willing to take a chance on me. To give me the chance to be your wife. Your real wife.”

  The dam inside of him broke. He stumbled forward and caught her in his arms. “Hell yeah, I love you. I just can’t believe you love me, too.”

  He swooped in and held her tenderly, dropping a kiss on her head, cherishing the fact that she loved him like he loved her. Who would have thought a drunken night in Vegas would lead to a marriage he hadn’t even known he wanted, but could no longer live without?

  He rested his cheek against hers. She tightened her fists on his jacket, tugging him closer. “I wish we weren’t in a church right now. I can’t kiss you in here.”

  “Seriously?” He pulled back and looked down at her in surprise. His little hellion couldn’t kiss her husband in church?

  “Seriously.”

  “I think He would approve.” His grip on her hips tightened. “But we could not be inside.”

  “I like how you think, husband.” She grinned up at him, her blue eyes sparkling and pulling him in deeper than he already was. “But don’t you have to find Brianna for the pictures? Do you have time?”

  “When it comes to kissing you, I have all the time in the world.”

  Grabbing his hand, she tugged him toward the doors. “Then let’s go.”

  When she lifted her skirt to walk faster, he caught sight of her boots. His mouth dried out. “You wore your boots under that? I might be a dude and therefore clueless about fashion, but even I know that’s not right.”

  She winked at him over her shoulder. “I know how much you like them and I wanted to make you happy.”

  His heart sped up. “You know me so well, babe.”

  “Well.” She fluttered her lashes at him. “You are my husband. It’s kind of my job.”

  “Speaking of being your husband…” His grip on her tightened as they walked out the doors and into the fresh air. “I have a request pertaining to your upcoming role.”

  She stopped walking so abruptly that he almost crashed into her. He caught her shoulder with his free hand and righted himself. She nibbled on her lower lip. “You want me to turn down the part. I can. I’d been thinking about it already, since we’ve just gotten—”

  “Stop right there.” He scowled. “Don’t even think about it. You are not, I repeat not, turning down that role. If you even threaten me with that again, I’ll divorce your pretty little ass so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

  She blinked at him, her mouth in a perfect o. “But—”

  “No buts.” He swung her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “I would never ask you to do that, and I won’t accept it from you, either.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and blinked back tears. “Then what do you want?”

  “I want a real wedding when you come back.” He nibbled on her ear and maneuvered her toward the side of the building, where they wouldn’t be seen. Even though his face was buried in her neck, he knew she was smiling. He could feel it.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I want to see you in that white dress, walking down the aisle toward me with a white veil and a pair of white cowboy boots.”

  She let out a bubble of laughter. “Boots?”

  “Yeah.” He lifted her up in his arms, hugging her close. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I’m happiest when you’re wearing boots.”

  “And I’m happiest when you’re happy.” She entwined her fingers in his hair, yanking him down until his lips touched hers. “So boots it is.”

  “Mm.” He kissed her sweetly, right outside of the church on the steps. When he pulled back from her, he nuzzled her ear and whispered, “I fucking love you.”

  She smiled and buried her face in his neck. “I fucking love you, too.”

  Epilogue

  Five years later

  Mike leaned back in the beach chair and breathed in the smell of sandy beach and suntan lotion. Hot sun. Blue ocean waters crashing on golden sand, kicking up a spray of salt water every so often. A cold Corona in one hand, and his gorgeous wife’s hand in his other. And his wife? She wore a skimpy red bikini and nothing else.

  What more could a guy like him ask for?

  Morgan rolled over and smiled at him, the brim of her hat shading her blue eyes. But he knew they would be sparkling away, almost as bright as her smile. “I can’t believe how perfect this island is. Why did we wait so long to come here?”

  “I don’t know but I agree. It’s a slice of heaven.” He yanked her onto his lap and nibbled on her throat, toying with the knot she’d tied at the back of her bikini top. “But I can think of a few ways to make it better.”

  “Hm.” She dug her nails into his shoulders and swayed closer. “I’m intrigued. Wanna go—?”

  “Knock it off over there.” Garrett dropped down into the chair next to them. “If I’m not allowed to grope my wife in front of you, then you can’t do it in front of me, either.”

  Mike traced the line of Morgan’s hip with his hand. She shivered, and he bit back a grin. “It’s not the same. My wife isn’t your sister.”

  “She’s my sister-in-law.” Garrett took a swig of his beer. “That counts.”

  Kiersten came up and sat in Garrett’s lap. Her belly was slightly swollen with another baby and she’d never looked more gorgeous. “What are you two fighting about now?”

  “Nothing,” Mike said.

  “Nothing,” Garrett said at the same time. Garrett winked at him, then hugged Kiersten close. “We’re just discussing sisters. One of which Amy and Chris are about to get.”

  Kiersten laughed. “It might be a boy this time.”

  “It might be.” Garrett kissed Kiersten on the nose. “But it might not be.”

  Mike looked down at Morgan’s own perfectly flat stomach, and for a second he wished that she was the one with the swollen stomach. She’d just come off of a year-long tour with Wicked and was scheduled to be home for the next year. It would be the perfect time…

  “Did you two pick names yet?” Morgan asked, her voice soft.

  “If it’s a boy, Gabriel.”

  Garrett grinned. “And when it’s a girl, she’ll be called Emmy.”

  “You’re so stubborn,” Kiersten said sternly, but her smile ruined the effect.

  Garrett played with Kiersten’s hair. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

  “You two are way too fu—” Mike broke off and looked over his shoulder. The kids were too close for comfort. “—Funtastically cute.”

  Garrett laughed. “Funtastic? Really?”

  “Hey, you gotta roll with what ya got,” Mike said. “And we’ve got a lot of kids running around here. We could start a fu—” He slammed his mouth shut. Shit. It was probably a good thing he and Morgan wouldn’t have kids. “Uh, fun basketball team here.”

  Garrett rolled his eyes. “If you two are ever going to have kids, you’ll need to learn how to watch your mouth.”

  “I don’t think I have to worry about that,” Mike said. He raised his beer and took a swig to hide the pang of bittersweet irony.

  Morgan relaxed and leaned against him, closing her eyes and snuggling close. “Hm. This is so peaceful.”

  “Yeah.” He rested his cheek on her head, his eyes on the kids. “It is.”

  Thomas and Brianna came out of the ocean, hand in hand. Thomas wore black swim trunks and a pair of shades, whi
le Brianna wore her long blond hair in a ponytail and sported a bikini as well. His hand rested perilously close to Brianna’s ass.

  “Knock it off.” Erica, wearing a one-piece swimsuit, and Jeremy, heavily inked and sporting a pair of shades, said from behind them. “I don’t need to see that.”

  “Fine.” Thomas brushed against Brianna’s ass as he wrapped an arm around her waist, and Mike looked away. He didn’t need to see that shit. His sister could be happy if she wanted but he didn’t need to know how or why.

  Brianna headed for the empty spot next to Garrett and Kiersten. Thomas sat at her feet and rested his head on her legs.

  Mike grinned. “Go ahead. Sit at her feet like a puppy.”

  “Oh, stop it!” Morgan smacked his arm. “You love seeing your sisters happy and you know it.”

  “I love knowing they’re happy. Not seeing it. And also—”

  Morgan kissed Mike into silence, and damned if he cared. She could do that any time, any day. She pulled back and cupped his cheek before slapping it lightly. Damn, he liked it when she played rough. “Behave yourself.”

  He cocked a brow. “Make me.”

  Erica sat down on their other side and Jeremy sat in between her feet, like Thomas. Mike looked around him, watching all the men at the beck and call of their women—including himself. If he’d seen this image five years ago, he would have made a sarcastic comment about men being pussy whipped. Hell, he probably still would today.

  But he was happy. Really, truly happy.

  And so was everyone else he loved.

  Erica played with Jeremy’s hair. Jeremy leaned in to her touch. “We could get stationed out here, you know. In Hawaii. Live in the sunset and tropical breeze all year long. How’s that sound?”

  “I think we should stay in Camp Pendleton. We just got back there from Camp Lejeune, and we’ve only got six years left.” She cocked her head and watched her kids playing in the sand. “Then again, six years in Hawaii might not be too shabby.”

  Thomas leaned forward. “You’re not moving to Hawaii. I’d never see you again.”

  “You could come visit, Tommy,” Jeremy said, stressing the nickname Thomas hated. “We’ll always have room for you.”