“Let’s go upstairs and get some water and sober up. I don’t trust a damn thing around here.”
Glancing around, Freya nodded. “I wondered why there were no kids here. Huh. Yes. Let’s get the hell out of here. I’m so hungry. Let’s get takeout from that place across the street first.”
10
The Next Day
Mouth parched like she’d swallowed a jar of glue then slept with her mouth open, underwire digging into her chest, thong riding up her crack, Freya groaned and raised her sandpaper eyelids. What an awful night. If her cousin hadn’t taken off yet, she was going to tear her a new one for lacing something they’d ingested. Wasn’t that illegal? And potentially dangerous?
As she shifted to drink a gallon of water then take a long, hot shower, Freya found herself locked in a firm embrace. Zane’s arm and leg were wrapped around her like tree roots, the belt on his slacks digging into her backside.
Grabbing his hand to unlock his grip, a metallic clink and tugging sensation on her finger froze her solid. Lowering her gaze, knowing before she saw, her pulse kicked into high gear. Swallowing a whimper before she woke him, not ready to face him, she managed to free herself from his octopus snuggle.
The shiny band on her finger caught at glimmer of sunlight as she sat up in bed. Holy shit. What had she done?
Sitting on the side of the bed, too dizzy to stand up yet, she stared at her finger. A good-sized sapphire was embedded in a delicate, winding river of platinum. Biting her cheek, she refused to let herself cry. Not that any tears would come out, she was so damn dehydrated.
Without her next to him, Zane groaned and pulled a pillow over his face. Did he have any idea that he was wearing a black titanium band on a very important finger? Part of her really hoped he remembered how they’d gotten in this predicament, but most of her hoped he was as shocked as she was.
Easing off the bed, her legs wobbly beneath her, she snuck into the bathroom and drank and drank and drank until her cheeks were no longer adhered to her teeth. Stalling for as long as was practical, she lingered under the cleansing spray of the shower until her fingertips turned to puckered prunes.
When she could hide no longer, she tiptoed out of the bathroom and pulled on her jeans and a cotton t-shirt. She brewed her vile hotel coffee, cringing as it made out a noisy grinding sound. Looking to the bed, Zane was still hidden under the pillow.
Sneaking out onto the deck, she sipped the bitter brew and stared at her finger. If she weren’t so freaked at what it meant, she might have found it a pretty piece of jewelry.
The rising sun glinted off the surface of the water, the peaks in the distance standing tall and proud. Not many people out yet, the property was blissfully quiet. Too quiet. Her memory of last night was a gigantic black hole. Last thing she remembered was escaping that awful party.
Grumbling behind her, Zane rolled out of bed. She froze, hoping he wouldn’t come out yet. Let her get her head on straight first. Not looking back, she heard the brewer powering away at his coffee, the shower starting moments later.
Cradling the rapidly cooling mug in her hands, she didn’t move when he staggered out to join her. Jeans slung carelessly low on his hips, his black t-shirt hugging that flawless body, his bare feet and unruly hair tugged at something deep in her gut. The romantic dreamer that had probably gotten them into this mess to begin with.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, both looking out at the scenery as if nothing was wrong.
Finally, Zane rested his coffee on his knee. “So,” he said, glancing her way then back to the water.
“So,” she sighed.
“I’ve got this thing on my finger. You’ve got one too.”
She nodded.
“I don’t have a fucking clue why.”
Setting down her empty mug on the table between them, she took a long breath. “I don’t think ‘why’ is the issue. It’s the what-are-we-going-to-do that’s freaking me out. An overabundance of pheromones, add some champagne and cocktails and weed, then an easy-access wedding chapel… well, that’s a Freya-disaster waiting to happen.”
“I think it’s my fault.” His gaze was steady, honest. “The last few days, that’s the most alive I’ve felt in years. The idea of leaving all this behind was eating away at me. Then, well, shit, my mom called yesterday.”
“She did? How did it go?”
“Again proved why I should stop trying. First, she had no idea that I hadn’t even been deployed the last few months. Then when she heard I was out, well, I guess my ex has been working for them for the last few years and just made partner at their architectural firm. Mom thinks it would be so great if I moved home and got back together with Blaire.” He shrugged, then downed the last of his coffee before setting it on the table. “She was so set on it, and I knew I wouldn’t hear the end of it. Her badgering can last years. So. Shit. Well, I sort of told her I remarried.”
For the first time that morning, a laugh bubbled up in Freya’s throat.
Glancing over to gauge her reaction, he caught her look and smiled back, shaking his head at himself. “It slipped out. As usual, my own words bit me in the ass as soon as I’d said them. She and my dad are planning to fly out to meet you.”
“We could have faked it,” she reached her foot over and nudged his, the corner of her mouth quirking up.
His head tilted, a subtle smile lightening his dark mood. “That was my plan. But I’m thinking, once stoned-me got all sentimental last night with ideas of weddings and that chapel next door to the restaurant…”
