Girl in Luv

by Rebecca Yarros

  “Girls.” Virginia reached us, a smile on her face and ice in her eyes. “Now.”

  “Yeah, I think I’d rather not,” I said slowly, testing out each word on my tongue. Iker was here, and if I could have a few hours alone with him before the madness of tonight, I was taking it.

  Without another word, I left our little duck-line and walked straight to the locker room. I found the mahogany cabinet with my assigned number on it, and took my bag out, not pausing to put my clothes on before I headed for the elevator.

  I had to get out of here. Now.

  “Langley,” Virginia hissed, power walking in my direction as the doors opened in front of me.

  “Have fun! I’ll see you later,” I called out as the doors shut in her face.

  An immediate stab of panic hit me as the elevator lowered me to the first floor of the golf club. She’d most definitely take this out on my dad.

  The elevator dinged, and I walked out, my slippers catching on the navy blue and gold carpet as I walked down the hall. I’d slip out the side door and get to the suite, change, then find Iker.

  “Langley?”

  My head snapped up to see Iker standing in the foyer of the golf club, a small duffel bag in one hand and a garment bag draped over his shoulder.

  “Hey! I thought you were with my dad?” I felt incredibly short as I stared up at him.

  Because I was still in slippers from the spa.

  He looked good enough to eat in black cargo shorts and a green polo.

  “I was, but he paused my interrogation to set up the lie detector.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “Relax, I’m kidding. We finished the lie detector about twenty minutes ago. He just ran into the pro shop for something and I didn’t want to haul my stuff in, so I’m waiting out here. What are you doing?” His gaze swept over me.

  Heat rose in my cheeks, realizing my robe hit mid-thigh. “I came to find you.”

  “In a robe.”

  “It appears so.”

  He grinned, that dimple popping in his cheek, and I resisted the urge to kiss it.

  “Langley Vaughn, what do you think you’re doing?” Virginia snapped as she entered the lobby. She had changed into tan capris and a sleeveless polo in record time, but was obviously flustered.

  “Hanging out with my boyfriend,” I answered. “That’s the best way for me to relax.”

  “You’ve upset Camille and I won’t have it! Get your spoiled butt back up there and get your massage like the rest of the bridal party!”

  “Rich people are so damn weird,” Iker muttered behind me.

  “I’d rather not,” I answered, not even looking in her direction, voice as cool as hers for once.

  “I don’t give a good goddamn what you want!” She stomped her foot like the spoiled child she’d just accused me of being.

  “Hey, don’t speak to her like that.” Iker stepped between us.

  “Miss Vaughn,” another voice joined at my right. John, the golf club manager, was forced to intervene. “I hate to intrude, but what you’re wearing doesn’t exactly meet our dress code.”

  I looked down at my robe. “Right, I was just headed to my room.”

  “You’re headed to the spa!” Virginia countered.

  “What’s going on?” Dad asked, carrying a small bag from the pro shop.

  “Sir, your daughter’s attire…”

  “I’m just going to take her to the room.” Iker to the rescue once again.

  “She’s upset Cammy and I won’t have it, Corbin!” Virginia looked like she was going to burst a blood vessel.

  Dad’s attention flickered between all three before settling on me. “Langley?”

  “I’m headed to my room,” I told him. I wasn’t wavering, and I wasn’t caving in to Virginia’s ridiculous demands this time.

  “She can’t just walk out on the other bridesmaids. It’s selfish, it’s put Cammy into a tizzy, and it’s going to stop right now!” Virginia whirled in my father’s direction, face flushed and hands clenched.

  Dad’s head tilted just a fraction as he studied me and then his wife.

  Guilt clogged my throat. I’d promised to make this weekend easy, to go with the flow on everything, and here I was, causing trouble out in the open. I always planned to break that promise, but I’d hoped to be more subtle about it and leave my hired date as the bad guy. But I wanted to be with Iker. And I wasn’t walking away from ruffling Virginia’s feathers for once. I wanted to smile, and laugh, and enjoy what time I had with my date, because he wasn’t a bad guy. I was so sick of the spectacle surrounding Camille and this wedding.

  “Sir, she really can’t stay here dressed like this,” John urged as a member came through the front doors, their eyebrows raising to the second floor.

  I heard a zip, then felt the soft fabric of Iker’s suit coat settle on my shoulders.

  “That’s hardly what I meant,” John argued.

  “Look, she’s not in jeans and even has on a sport coat. I can throw a tie on her if that makes you feel better,” Iker answered. The challenge in his dark eyes was clear, and John immediately backed down as my father snickered in amusement. I wouldn’t want to go toe-to-toe with this man when he was in protective mode either.

  All while Dad and I communicated wordlessly.

  “Corbin!” Virginia pleaded, changing tactics. “Please, love. It’s Cammy’s day. Not Langley’s.”

  I’d go back if Dad asked me to. I knew it and so did he. I would do anything to keep the peace for him. However, Iker made me realize it was time to expect my father to return the favor.

  “Tomorrow is Camille’s day,” Dad corrected Virginia softly. “Tomorrow, she’s marrying Langley’s first love. Which you already know I take major issue with. I think today we can keep both our daughters’ best interests at heart and give Langley the space she’s asking for.”

  Until he mentioned it, I’d forgotten all about the fuss he’d put up when Virginia demanded he pay for the wedding. My father hadn’t been happy when Camille announced her engagement to my ex, and was even less thrilled when he found out he was expected to foot the bill. Eventually, he caved, because he always did, but for a moment he’d still been my hero.

  “I’ll be at the rehearsal on time, with a smile. I promise.” I nodded.

  “I know you will, sweet pea.” Dad flashed me a grin and gave Iker a look I couldn’t quite decipher.

  Virginia’s mouth gaped. I’d never gone against her in front of my dad. I’d never won. But then again, I’d never tried. I’d never had a reason like I did now—Iker.

  “Miss Vaughn,” John begged.

  “We’re going right now,” Iker told him, holding his duffel and garment bag in one hand, and ushering me out with his other on my lower back.

  “You’re killing me in that robe, by the way,” he muttered as we found the elevator in the main hotel, earning more than a few stares from the five-star resort’s guests.

  “Embarrassed?’ I asked as we rose to our floor.

  “Turned on, actually,” he admitted.

  Before I could even begin to address that comment, the elevator dinged and we arrived at our floor. I opened the door to the suite and walked in, dropping my bag on the dining room table.

  “So, this is ours. I can get you your own room, of course, but it’s got plenty of space.”

  Iker looked around, taking in the dining area, sitting room, and bedroom. “Pretty sure this suite is bigger than my apartment.”

  “Do you live on base?” I asked, breaching the barrier of the real world.

  “Not since I was an E-4. You could probably fit my old barracks in here about ten times over.”

  “So, you don’t want your own room?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t want my own room. But now that you’ve escaped the clutches of your wicked stepmother, what would you like to do with your hard-earned”—he checked his watch—“four hours of freedom?”

  I grinned. “Did you
know there’s a waterslide here?”

  “Of course there is,” he replied with a snort.

  But without argument, he went with me after I changed and headed out to the pool.

  Five hours later, we stood outside the chapel, Iker just behind me, getting our instructions on bubble blowing. Iker looked edible in his suit, even if he did tug at the tie and fiddle with the cufflinks every now and again.

  “And as the bubbles rise, you’ll exit like this,” the wedding planner told Camille and Richard.

  “You burnt your nose,” Iker whispered, leaning down so his lips grazed my ear.

  A shiver danced down my spine.

  “Someone didn’t want to leave the waterslide,” I answered, turning slightly so my lips grazed the corner of his.

  “If by someone, you mean you,” he teased, “then you are correct.”

  “And this is where the horse-drawn carriage will wait.” The wedding planner motioned toward the space right in front of the curb.

  “Are you shitting me?” Iker laughed softly. “A horse-drawn carriage?”

  “She wanted a legit Cinderella carriage, but Richard put his foot down,” I told him.

  “Oh, that’s where he draws the line? At the Cinderella carriage?” He sounded baffled, and I bet he was telling himself he was never getting married if all brides were this ridiculous.

  “Where would you draw it?” I wondered what he would be like when he loved someone. Would he compromise? Give in to the silly things? I would have bet he’d move heaven and earth to make the woman he loved happy, to show her exactly how he valued her.

  I kind of hated that unknown woman on principle alone.

  “I would have drawn it the first time Camille tried to kiss me, and steal me away from you,” he answered. “Hell, I already drew it,” he finished on a whisper.

  Uncaring that we were in full view of the bridal party, I turned, my blue dress swishing above my knees, and planted a soft kiss on that flashing dimple of his. Kissing the little indent was going to be my new favorite hobby for as long as he let me get away with it.

  “Okay, boys and girls! That concludes the rehearsal, so let’s head over to the restaurant for dinner!” Richard called out, already swaying on the sidewalk, obviously a bit drunk.

  While the bridesmaids had been at the spa, the groomsmen had spent all day drinking on the golf course.

  We made our way to the west side of the resort, through the marble-floored lobby, and into the restaurant where a U-shaped table had been set, with the lake and main hotel as a backdrop.

  Iker excused himself to take a phone call as our group disbursed to the bar that had been set up in the corner, the table, or in my case—the view at the window.

  “You look good, Langley.” Richard stood in the spot next to me, holding a beer. He sighed and took a less-than-appropriate look at my ass. “Really good.”

  “You look engaged to my stepsister, Richard,” I answered. “And a little drunk.”

  His eyes had that buzzed, glazed look as he laughed, which came out as a half-scoff, half-hyena sound. “I’m not married yet.”

  “I’m not doing this with you,” I replied, and turned away from the window, only to be caught in the death-glare of Virginia.

  “Outside. Now.” She snapped her fingers at me like I was a toy poodle, and exited.

  I counted to three, trying to find even the smallest thread of patience, and then followed.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing today?” she seethed, her hands in fists at her side.

  “I thought we already had this discussion.” And I had zero desire to have it again.

  “Don’t you dare sass me. Not today. You’ve already ruined enough!” Her gaze swung through the lobby, no doubt making sure we wouldn’t be overheard.

  “How did I ruin anything? I excused myself from a tense situation. If anything, the girls should have had a fabulous time without me, because let’s be real, no one actually wants me here. It was a win-win for the entire bridal party, in my opinion.” My stomach clenched with the effort it took to keep my voice calm and level.

  “Listen. To. Me. I love your father, and I’ve done everything I can to make us a family. You fight me at every turn. You won’t let go of your mother’s things. You won’t share your space, or your things, with Camille. Hell would freeze over before you’d willingly share your dad with her! I’m sorry she fell in love with your ex, and that he found her more appealing—”

  “He wasn’t my ex at the time,” I whispered, unable to keep it in.

  “Even now, you can’t just let her be happy! I told Camille it was stupid to include you in the bridal party, that you would only be a jealous wretch, and look!” She waved her hand at me. “She wanted you to be her bridesmaid. She wanted you as a sister! You think it was so hard for you to lose your mother, and I’m sure it hurt, but Camille never even knew her father. Have you ever stopped to think about what your foolish, selfish actions have done to her? To me? To your father?”

  She may as well have punched me in the gut.

  “I think that’s more than enough,” Iker’s voice came from behind me.

  “Who gives a damn what you think?” Virginia retorted, then pushed past me as she headed back to the rehearsal dinner. “Get your ass back in here and smile, Langley. For once in your life, act like the lady your mother raised you to be.”

  My entire body tensed as I watched her stomp away, and even though logically I knew I was still the same height I’d been when I’d followed Virginia out, I felt about three feet tall.

  “Here, I figured you might need this.” Iker faced me and handed over a martini.

  “How do you know what I drink?” I asked, my hand trembling as I reached for the glass.

  “I watched you the night we met.”

  I ignored the response my heart gave to his admission, tipped the cool liquid to my lips, and then swallowed over and over until it was gone.

  “Sorry about the phone call. Work stuff.”

  “On a Friday night?”

  “The aarmy doesn’t care if it’s Friday night or Christmas morning. They call. You answer.” He glanced toward the door and took a sip of his beer. “I hate when you let her talk to you like that.”

  “I don’t let her do anything,” I snapped back.

  “Sure you do,” he replied, with as much emotion as an iceberg. “Every time you don’t dish it back to her like you just did to me. Every time you don’t tell your dad what’s really going on. Every time you fix a swing yourself instead of demanding one of them fix it. It’s like you’re okay with it, Langley. I just can’t figure out why because that’s not the woman I’ve spent the last week with.”

  My cheeks burned, anger swirling in my blood like acid, burning for an outlet.

  “You think you know? Because what, we’ve known each other for a week? Because you’ve seen a sliver of my life, of what goes on behind closed doors?” My mouth took that anger and ran with it, and no matter how loudly my brain screamed, it couldn’t catch up. “My dad went through hell when my mom died. Not just depression, Iker. Hell. It was like he’d lost his very soul, not just his soulmate. And when Virginia came around, even as awful as she is, she woke him up and he came back to me. So, if the cost for having him back is that I have to deal with…them, then I guess it’s worth it.”

  His chiseled jaw flexed, and those warm, dark eyes turned obsidian.

  “I do know because I’ve known you for a week. Because I can see from the outside of this fucking snow globe you call a life. I have something you don’t—perspective on both the insanity of this shit, and the cage you willingly allow yourself to live in. And I’m telling you that you don’t have to pay the price for your father’s happiness. That man loves you. If he checked out when your mom died, I’m sorry, but he’s here, now. And I can tell you that he would want to know how they treat you. I honestly believe he would protect you.”

  I ripped my eyes away from his, staring out the glass do
ors that led to the lake. I hated that he saw into me, saw through the gold-plated façade my family kept in place. Iker held up a mirror to my life and made me look, and it was painful, and inconvenient, and yet so necessary.

  “Maybe she’s right, though.” I shook my head. “Maybe I should have shared more. Maybe holding onto my mother shoved Virginia away. Maybe—”

  Iker cupped my cheek in his hand, drawing my gaze back to him.

  “No,” he said quietly. “You can’t let the guilt in, or she wins. Don’t give her another inch, Langley. She’s already taken miles.”

  Iker’s attention shifted to something—someone behind me.

  “Hey, kids, we’re getting started in here. Want to join us?” my dad asked.

  “We’ll be right in, sir.” Iker nodded at Dad, then studied me. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  He grinned. “That was hardly yelling. I just wish you would put that anger where it belonged.” He took my hand, and we walked into dinner, where everyone was already seated.

  “Just let me know when you’d like me to set the tablecloth on fire,” Iker whispered, kissing my cheek , then took his own chair beside me as dinner began.

  He’d pulled out my chair, just like he’d opened my door during our date. Ugh, those butterflies were back in my stomach, and that awareness between us was only sharper.

  I wanted him. The knowledge unsettled me more than that broken heel had. Wanting meant risk. Risk of rejection. Risk of embarrassment. It wasn’t just a physical want, either—though the man had me keyed up simply by resting his hand on my thigh. I wanted...more from him. Wanted his blunt honesty, his perception, his simple presence in my life. I didn’t want this weekend to end.

  I watched him during dinner, making polite conversation with Phoebe, smiling when my dad cracked a joke down the table. His hand reached for mine often between courses, and he leaned over to kiss my cheek more than a few times, always whispering sarcastic suggestions on how to ruin the dinner.

  Three courses in, he’d only had that single beer. The guys around us—the girls, too—had been putting them away with frequency, and it showed as Richard’s dad stood, bringing the conversation to a halt.