Mister Wrong

At the same time I exhaled with relief, my heart kind of seized. She hadn’t rushed to the airport as I’d expected, but she’d rushed to get out of this cabin and away from me. For her, last night had been a mistake, probably a moment she’d look back on and regret forever. But for me—pathetic, stupid me—last night had been the highlight of my existence, in this life and any and every other.

“Thank you,” I said, fishing a couple of bills out of my wallet to leave as a tip before hurrying out the door.

She might not have wanted to see me, but too bad. She couldn’t hide from this—she couldn’t hide from me. What happened happened, and she could hate me to her dying breath if it made things easier for her, but I needed to know how she wanted to deal with Jacob. I needed to know what she was going to tell him so I knew what to expect. So I knew if the moment I saw him, I should start running because a moving target was harder to hit, or if I just needed to play it cool as the dutiful brother who’d stepped in to save the day and was stepping down now that the golden brother was back.

The path back to the hotel was a long one, but it didn’t take more than a few minutes with the way I was running. My journey took me past the beach, and something caught my eye. I broke to a stop the moment I saw her. Tropical storm approaching or not, the beach was crowded with people. There was a little tiki bar toward the back, where people in brightly colored swimsuits were sipping brightly colored drinks. A few lines of lounge chairs accompanied striped umbrellas, and the thin swath of empty beach left over was fair game for people to sprawl out with their beach towels and toys.

In the middle of it all was Cora, in her basic white bikini, looking anything but ordinary. She was standing ankle-deep in the turquoise water, staring at the horizon like it was coming to get her. Dangling from one hand was a snorkel and in her other, a pair of fins. The water was calm and still, the storm having no effect on it yet, but she still surveyed the water like it was capable of growing fangs and coming for her.

Cora had never been particularly fond of the water. That had a lot to do with her learning to swim late in life. It seemed strange to me that, of all the things she could be doing right now, she was here, mustering up her courage as she took a few more steps into the water.

I had no idea if she’d already checked into a new room or why she was hanging at the beach when Jacob was hours away from descending on us both, but I didn’t care. She was here. That was enough for me.

As I cut through the circus of beach towels and chairs, I couldn’t help the smile I felt tugging at my mouth. She was trying to be so brave—I could tell from the way she was working her lip and almost looking as if she was staring down the ocean in front of her, like it was her nemesis. I also might have been smiling due to the way she looked in that bikini. Cora had a woman’s body, curves instead of hard edges, and was more soft than she was firm. I loved that about her. I loved that she didn’t feel the need to cover or disguise or diet her way down to fit into the size two clothes Jacob frequently bought her as a not-so-subtle hint.

Seeing her standing there in nothing more than a couple of scraps of fabric made my body ache as I remembered the way she’d felt against me. The way her skin felt sliding across my palm. The way her chest felt spilling against mine as I moved inside her. The way her lips felt moving down my throat.

And, great. Nothing like sporting a hard-on at a beach packed with people. Thankfully, no one seemed to be paying any special attention to the one person in pants and a button-down shirt instead of swimwear. I didn’t miss the way plenty of people were noticing her though. I also didn’t miss the way I wanted to crush their skulls from the looks they were giving her.

Shit. Talk about possessive. With a side of sick and twisted violent inclinations.

“Having one of those deep conversations with the Atlantic?”

She didn’t flinch when she heard me behind her. She didn’t even look surprised to see me there. “Less of a conversation and more of me trying to convince it I’m not terrified.”

“How’s that working out?”

Cora lifted the hand clutching a snorkel. It was trembling. “Not so great.”

“Then why are you doing it?” I stepped into the water beside her after kicking off my shoes, not bothering to take the time to roll my pants up.

“Because I’m tired of being scared. I’m tired of feeling like I’m living my life based on fear, instead of standing from a point of strength.” She sounded tired. She even looked tired. Neither of us had gotten much sleep last night, but this was a different kind of exhaustion. The kind that had been building for what looked like years.

“I heard you checked yourself into the hotel?” I matched her step when she journeyed farther into the water.

She nodded but didn’t offer any kind of explanation. Not that she needed to. I knew why she had.

“Jacob’s going to be here this afternoon. His flight arrives at 3:20.” I watched her for a sign of any reaction, but all she did was acknowledge me with another nod, her eyes still focused on the vast body of water in front of us. “I need to know what you’re planning on telling him. I’m behind you, whatever you decide, but I need to know because if he finds me first, I need to make sure our stories align.” When her silence stretched on, I wound my hand around her wrist and angled myself slightly in front of her. “What do you want?”

Her eyes drifted to mine, the look in them making my throat tighten. She looked as lost as I’d ever seen a person, maybe even more lost than I felt at the present moment. Her throat moved when she swallowed. “I don’t know, Matt. I don’t know.”

Her eyes looked like they were about to fill with tears, so I did what came naturally and wound my arms around her and tucked her close to me. She came into my embrace like it was exactly what she’d been waiting for, her head falling against my chest. Her back quaked a few times from what I guessed were stifled sobs, and we stood there just like that for a few minutes.

“It’s going to be okay. I promise,” I whispered, because it would be okay. I’d make sure it would be, even if I had to tell a million lies and sell my soul to keep that vow.

She nodded against my chest, almost like she believed me, but she didn’t hurry to lean back or pull away. She seemed perfectly content to stay folded in my arms, standing knee-deep in the still ocean. I didn’t realize it at first, but her body had stopped trembling in fear.

“What are you really doing?” I said.

“Trying to snorkel. Or at least working up the courage to try to snorkel.”

“But you’re scared of the water.”

“And I’m tired of being scared of it. I told myself I was going to snorkel on my honeymoon, and I’m going to snorkel. I’ve always wanted to, and people do it everyday and live to tell the tale.” She sniffed and leaned back, a brave expression plastered on her face.

“Plus, you’re a strong swimmer. When you actually get in the water to swim.”

The heaviness started to drain from her eyes. “Well, I did learn from the best.”

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