Chapter Twenty-Six
SHAUNA THOUGHT SHE’D be too nervous to sleep on the drive, but the motion of the truck and Zander’s singing had lulled her into a deep sleep.
She’d woken a few hours later, feeling refreshed and immediately had gotten nervous again about going on a honeymoon with Zander.
A honeymoon implied romance and intimacy.
But he wasn’t acting any different than he had last week, so she tried not to, either.
With the windows down and music blaring, they sang too loud, making up lyrics they’d forgotten, and teased each other between eating handfuls of gummy bears and bags of chips, and her anxiety had been short-lived.
Until now.
Zander didn’t just plan a little getaway. They were on their way into their suite in a fancy hotel with marble floors and crystal chandeliers in Niagara Falls, New York. Niagara Falls!
He opened the door and stepped back, allowing her to walk in first. With her heart hammering, she stepped into the suite, and her breath caught at the sheer size of it.
She’d expected to see a room with a king-sized bed, but they were standing in the living room of a two-bedroom suite, with a couch, a large wall-mounted television, a desk by balcony doors, and a kitchenette with a small table that had a pretty wicker welcome basket filled with snacks and what looked like a bottle of champagne in it.
As relief and gratitude bubbled up inside her, a pang of disappointment snuck in.
She’d been so nervous about what the honeymoon might mean, she hadn’t considered her feelings about it.
Even if she wasn’t looking for love or forever, they’d gotten so close, she hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted this to be more, or how much she’d hoped he’d wanted her.
But those two bedrooms were a gentle reminder that this wasn’t a real honeymoon.
Zander was just doing exactly what he’d promised, being a great husband without any expectations of more.
He carried their luggage in, like this was perfectly normal, and her stomach hadn’t knotted up with disappointment she had no right to feel.
Tucking that away, she headed over to the balcony doors. “Wow, we can see the falls from here. I might have to leave you a five-star review on Husbands R Us.”
“Don’t bother. One marriage is all I need. Which bedroom would you like?”
“Whichever one you don’t.”
“I’d give you the one with the best view, but I don’t think you want to sleep next to me all night, so I’ll give you the one with a view of the falls.”
“Ha ha,” she said, as if she weren’t wishing for that invitation.
He carried her suitcase into one bedroom and tossed his bag into the other. “But if you get lonely…” He waggled his brows.
One more mixed signal and she was going to need a translator.
THEY SHOWERED AND dressed for dinner, making it to a cool restaurant with mismatched chairs, record albums on the walls, and flower boxes spilling over the railings just in time for the reservations Zander had made.
They sat at a cozy candlelit table on the patio, serenaded by the soft, familiar beat of country-acoustic covers, the chatter of other diners, and the clink of silverware against plates.
Zander was playing up the part of the adoring husband, telling the hostess and then their server that they were on their honeymoon.
When he pulled his chair beside hers instead of sitting across the table, his grin both devilish and charming, the waiter nodded knowingly.
They were halfway through a delicious meal of steak and shrimp, crisp roasted potatoes, and vegetables sautéed so perfectly they melted on her tongue.
Shauna lifted her glass, condensation cooling her fingertips as she sipped her iced tea.
Zander had ordered the same. She hadn’t asked him not to drink, but she was learning his thoughtfulness seeped into every part of his life.
“On a scale of one to ten, how was your first week of marriage?” he asked smugly.
She swirled the ice in her glass. “Not bad. My husband’s a little cocky, but he’s easy on the eyes and he’s got a cute cat, so I’d say it’s about an eight.”
“Eight, huh?” His eyes narrowed. “What’s missing?”
That was a loaded question. “He hasn’t shared any of his deep dark secrets with me yet.”
“Ah, you want to know my dirty secrets?”
She took a sip and set her glass down. “I said dark, not dirty.”
“Dark and dirty go together,” he said seductively.
She realized he might be just unfiltered enough to share something dark and dirty with her, and she didn’t want to hear about his sexual escapades with other women. “I was thinking more like teenage drama or a tattoo you regret getting.”
“I don’t believe in regrets. They’re a waste of energy. Life happens fast, and you can’t change the past, so why bother overthinking it or beating yourself up over it?”
“Must be nice.” She couldn’t imagine what a life without regrets would even feel like.
“Sounds like you have a few.” He leaned in, the candlelight reflecting in his eyes. “Want to share them with me?”
“I don’t want to bore you.”
“You haven’t bored me yet, and you’re my wife. I want to know more about you.”
When he looked at her like that, like he was genuinely hoping she’d share, it made it hard not to believe there was something more between them.
“You can probably guess what they are. I wish I’d handled things with my parents differently, stood up for myself, asked my grandfather to raise me before I started drinking and smoking.
I wish I’d gotten help for myself, and help for Brian, sooner. ”
“I understand why you feel that way, but maybe you should cut yourself a little slack. Kids learn from their parents. You were afraid you might go into the foster system if you had tried to help yourself, and you’d been told that was a bad thing.
You can’t blame fourteen-year-old you for any of that.
And as far as Brian goes, you’ve beaten yourself up long enough about that.
You’ve given him the opportunity to regain control of his life.
If you’d tried sooner, it might not have worked. ”
“Somehow, hearing it from you makes it easier to believe.”
“Good, because like I said, you’ve spent enough time worrying about what could’ve been. Don’t second-guess yourself, darlin’. You had good reasons for everything you’ve done, and you ended up with a fantastic husband.”
“And he’s not at all cocky.”
“You’ve seen me naked. You know that’s not true.”
She laughed and shook her head, trying to clear that scorching visual. “Time for a subject change.”
He chuckled and took a drink. As he set down his glass, he said, “I’ve got a wholesome secret I can share.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“I was nine,” he offered in explanation. “The cutest girl in class wouldn’t give me the time of day.”
“The nerve of her,” Shauna said.
“Right?” He grinned. “She was a goody-two-shoes, and she was friends with the well-behaved boys.”
“You were too wild for her?”
“Too wild, too funny, too cute.” He winked. “Anyway, I brought a grasshopper to school, and I walked by her table at lunch and casually dropped it beside her. It jumped onto her arm, and she gasped and made that sound girls make when they’re scared—”
“What sound? I’m picturing her saying, Zander, what the heck? and swatting it away.”
“She wasn’t as tough as you. She kind of squealed, so I swooped in to save the day. I picked that sucker up and ate it.”
“You ate it?”
“What can I say? I’ve always been willing to commit.”
She arched a brow. “That’s not what you told me.”
“I mean commit to getting the girl, not keeping her. But it didn’t matter, because she yelled, ‘Ew! Zander ate a grasshopper!’ and then I became known as the kid who ate bugs.”
“Aw, you poor thing. That must’ve hurt your little ego.”
“Hardly. I used it to my advantage and told everyone I was practicing to be a Green Beret, which made me the toughest boy in class.”
“Only you would come up with that.” It was easy to imagine him as a little smart-mouthed charmer.
“Like I said, no regrets. Now it’s your turn.”
“I don’t have any bug-eating stories, but I did moon over firefighters for about a year and tell everyone who would listen that I was going to marry one.”
“All women think firemen have big hoses, but that’s a myth. You should’ve said biker. We’ve got big pipes, our engines run hot, and we can ride all night long.”
Now, that’s a theory I’d like to test.
This new lustful side of herself was as pushy as he was. Settle down, Flores. There will be no testing.
“I was eight at the time,” she said. “Definitely not thinking about their hoses. They were brave and they were nice to me when my mother nearly burned down our kitchen and blamed me for it.”
His brows slanted. “Seriously?”
“Mm-hm. I thought a firefighter could save me from anything.”
“No, I get that,” he said sharply. “I mean, your mother really blamed you for the fire?”
“Oh. Yeah.” She shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I got blamed for everything.”
“It’s a huge deal. You’re a huge deal.” He held her gaze, his leg pressing against hers beneath the table, stirring that ever-present current that had taken up residence between them.
She wanted to lean in to whatever this was, but she forced herself to sit back and jokingly change the subject, her escape whenever things heated up. Only this time, neither laughed it off, and as they finished dinner, that hum was more like a live wire, crackling and popping between them.
When they left the restaurant, Zander said, “Come here, wife,” and took her hand, pulling her closer on their way to the truck. “I have one more surprise for you tonight.”
“Only one? I might have to downgrade your review.”
He slid his arm around her, tugging her against his side. “Trying to get me to up my game, Flores?”
“That depends. Does upping your game include dessert? I’ve never had room service.”