Chapter 1 #3
And then he was moving. Quickly shifting off the bed to search the nightstand before he knelt on the bed, tearing through the tangled sheets and pillows like a man possessed.
My heart skipped painfully.
My lungs protested the lack of oxygen as I waited for him to make that final connection that I so desperately didn’t want him to make.
When he just continued in his search, I made my way around the bed and cautiously asked, “Gray?”
He didn’t respond, and he didn’t stop, until he went suddenly, alarmingly still. With a heaving sigh, he let the pillow he was holding fall as he roughly sat back on the bed, hands lifted to inspect the small objects in them.
Dread filled me, even though I couldn’t see what he was holding. But I could see him, and I’d seen his reaction. That told me enough. “What is that?”
Silence met me once again. I honestly wasn’t even sure Gray was hearing me with how intently he was staring at his hands.
Just as I shifted to get a better look, he took one of the objects and carefully slid it onto the third finger of his left hand.
A ring.
Identical to the other still pinched between his fingers.
As ridiculous as it was, bewildered relief slammed into me before horror slowly crept through my body. Because I’d been afraid Gray had been holding evidence of what we’d done. I’d been afraid there’d been some sort of proof, like protection.
But there hadn’t been.
At all.
That horrifying feeling like I might cry and be sick rose up all over again as my stare fell to the floor. Not that I was seeing the floor or my feet or the room. I was replaying this nightmare of a morning over and over again, sure it was just that—a nightmare.
Force it back, Mallory. Force it back.
I took slow, deep breaths and tried to do what I’d always been told to—force every emotion that was surging through my veins back. But the reality of last night kept slamming into me, making my eyes burn and my throat tighten as my chest wrenched.
Certificate of Marriage. Rings.
Giving myself to Hudson Gray. No protect—
I ground my jaw when it trembled and vowed right then and there that I wouldn’t let myself think about what we’d done. There was no ignoring the elopement—that was a legal, binding ceremony. But the rest? I just . . . I couldn’t . . .
“When did all this happen?” I asked. The question left me on little more than a breath, but it seemed to shatter the strained quiet in the room.
“I dunno,” he said nearly a minute later, just as both our phones chimed.
I didn’t make a move for mine.
I wasn’t sure anything could’ve moved me until Gray climbed off the bed with a sigh and muttered, “We’ll figure this out,” in a voice that was so unlike him.
It was frustration. It was dread. It was worry.
And it had my heart clenching at the reminder that, no matter how much he teased and flirted with me, it was just because I was a woman, and Gray loved women far too much.
His love for me would never go beyond our friendship.
“Reverse it.” The words were strained with emotion as they scraped past that knot in my throat, and I hated that Gray was witnessing me coming so close to breaking. Willing back my tears and my hurt, I slanted a glare at him and continued. “Cancel it. Annul it—whatever it’s called. Take it back.”
A bitter sound that may have been a laugh left him, but he just continued toward the pile of clothes. Once he started searching through them, presumably for his phone, I forced myself to do the same.
Thankfully, mine was over on the opposite nightstand—far away from where Gray stood.
Scooping it off the furniture, I tapped into the group message someone had created for the wedding. Except for the newly wedded couple, everyone from our security team was in the group chat, with the addition of Thatch’s fiancée, and both Briggs’ and Lainey’s sisters.
Viking Cameron Rush
Breakfast by the pool in thirty. Let’s see who’s paying up.
I read the message from the gentle giant of our team over and over, my brow furrowing as I tried figuring out what he meant.
Quickly scrolling through our texts over the past days didn’t prove helpful. And no matter how hard I tried searching my mind for some memory, I wasn’t sure I could think of anything other than the fact that I’d woken up married to my best friend.
“Do you know what this means?”
My head subtly shook at Gray’s question before shaking more firmly when I was sure there wasn’t even a whisper of recognition at those words.
“Well, I . . . I need to go change.”
My head snapped up at that. “No one can know,” I blurted out before realizing everyone else might already know.
Who knew what’d happened last night, or who all had been there?
After all, Rush’s text made as little sense as our marriage certificate and those gold bands.
But just when I was about to ask Gray, “What if they know?” I focused on him—on his face. His handsome features that were usually filled with amusement and mischief were hardened with anger and—is that pain?—as he studied me.
After immeasurable seconds trapped in his stare, he gave a nod and turned toward the chair, his movements sharp and agitated as he picked through the clothes there.
I didn’t move as he pulled on the remainder of his groomsmen outfit.
I didn’t say anything when he took a step toward the door, only to stop and look at the paper that claimed Briggs and Lainey weren’t the only two to get married yesterday.
I didn’t let the anguished sound climbing up my throat escape when his jaw flexed as he dropped one of the gold bands onto the certificate before storming out of the room.
I just held myself still, arms wrapped tightly around my waist and teeth grinding together until the door slammed behind him.
And then I forced myself to wait and wait, even as my jaw trembled.
A solid minute after Gray left, I let the sob break free just as my knees buckled. Grabbing the windowsill to keep me upright, I dug my fingers into the unforgiving surface and took slow, deep breaths as I willed back every emotion.
I would cry . . . I would break . . . later.
Not when I was about to be surrounded by too-perceptive women and the guys who’d known me for over a decade. Not when someone was bound to notice if I had red, puffy eyes.
Tossing my phone onto the nightstand, I headed for the bathroom to shower and rid myself of the uncomfortable mask of makeup. Thankful, as I did so, that I’d been forced into learning how to turn off my emotions since I was a little girl.
Once I was dressed again, I headed down to the area we’d all been meeting at since arriving at this resort. I instinctively sought out Gray, the way I always did, but this time there was a layer of dread and pain overlapping the anticipation I usually felt when I knew I was going to see him.
But he wasn’t there. At least, not yet.
Dropping into a chair where Rush sat beside an obnoxiously-in-love Thatch and Chloe, I forced myself not to glare at the happy couple, since I wasn’t actually irritated with them, and looked out toward the ocean instead.
“Surprised you made it.”
I lifted one of my eyebrows and glanced at Rush, feigning confusion, all while my pulse pounded through my veins.
A knowing smirk tugged at his mouth. “Not sure I’ve seen you drink in all the years I’ve known you, and you had two before you decided it was a good idea to head to the bar.”
Relief swept through me as a hum rose in my throat.
“Right, what was that?” Thatch asked on a hushed laugh. “Since when do you drink?”
“I don’t,” I said just as all our phones went off.
Some horrible part of me worried it would be Gray, saying he wasn’t going to come. But for the second time in less than a minute, relief filled me when I saw it was from Briggs’ sister.
Peyton Briggs
Already at the airport.
“Not surprising,” I mumbled, since Briggs and his sister didn’t have a great relationship. I’d only met her once before this week, and that was when their brother died.
“You good?”
I glanced up at the unexpected and unwelcome question, only for my eyes to narrow when I realized Thatch’s question had been directed at Rush. Rush, who stared at the screen of his phone for a few seconds longer before slowly locking and pocketing the device, a deep sadness radiating from him.
He dragged a hand over his face and through his beard before muttering, “We’ve talked about this.”
“Talked about what?” I asked when Thatch just studied him with a worried look.
Rush gave me a soft, reassuring smile. “That it would hurt Briggs if Peyton left just as quickly as she arrived.”
From Thatch’s flash of surprise, that wasn’t remotely close to what they’d talked about. I also had a feeling Briggs wasn’t about to care when his sister—or any of us—left, since he was now on his honeymoon.
But considering I was trying not to crumple under the weight of all I’d woken to, I wasn’t going to push for the truth. Instead, I glanced away, making sure every one of my walls was perfectly in place so no one would see the chaos wreaking havoc inside.
My heart tumbled over itself when Gray suddenly appeared, settling himself into the seat beside me, but I didn’t allow myself to look at him or react to his presence.
My stomach knotted when I once again remembered I was married, thanks to a ceremony I didn’t remember, to the only man I’d ever loved. A man who was incapable of that level of love, and who’d looked like that certificate had ruined his plan for a lifetime of bachelorhood.
Or maybe it was just that it was my signature below his.
Sure, I was his best friend—aside from Thatch—but I was still Ice Barbie. I was still better at fighting than having heart-to-hearts. I was still one of the guys.
My sensitive stomach lurched when Lainey’s sister settled into a chair directly across from Gray, a predatory smirk shaping her lips as she stared down her current mark.
I forced my stare just past her so I wouldn’t see whatever suggestive look or mouthed words she’d offer Gray this time. Or, rather, so I wouldn’t be tempted to study Gray’s reaction to her . . .
Wren was just as much of a flirt as Gray, if not worse.
Whenever we found ourselves somewhere with her, I was forced to witness their nauseating and heartbreaking back-and-forth.
I’d already witnessed it more times than I wanted to think about on this trip alone.
But today? I wasn’t sure I could handle it today.
I wonder how he would’ve reacted if it’d been—nope. No, not going there.
I forced my hands to relax when I realized they were clenching just as Beau Evans, the last member of our team, fell into a seat beside Wren. His newfound, perpetually angry stare skipped past me curiously.
“So,” Rush began, looking at us with an excited glint to his eye that brought his text back to mind and made me wary, “let’s find out who’s leaving a little richer.”
A laugh that was bright and knowing left Thatch’s fiancée as she shared a look with him, as if they knew exactly what was going on.
That makes three.
“We already know who it’s gonna be,” Wren said in an overly confident tone that had my glare shifting her way in time to see her point proudly at herself.
Four, I mentally corrected.
Evans—the only one who hadn’t been a SEAL with us—made an irritated sound before nodding at Thatch. “Let’s see.”
Wait . . .
My heart skipped uncomfortably when I realized everyone—except for Gray and me—knew what was going on. Considering what’d happened last night, I was terrified to find out what that knowledge was.
I’d rather go through BUD/S all over again than deal with this group of people knowing about my drunken wedding.
They’d never let us live it down. The last thing I needed from the guys who had become my family over the past decade were reminders of why I wasn’t marriage material.
And I wasn’t sure I’d be able to survive Hudson Gray saying all the reasons why being married to me was probably the worst thing that could ever happen to him—next to taking a bullet for me . . . again.
But then Chloe lifted her left hand toward her face, showing off the engagement ring Thatch had given her a couple weeks before. And in the second it took me to read her playfully innocent expression, I knew exactly what was happening. I knew what we were waiting to see. I knew why we were here.
I remembered the bet.
I’m going to be sick.
A smothered gasp left me, and my hand shot out on its own accord, hitting Gray’s side at the same moment Thatch lifted his left hand. Fingers bare, other than the tattoos on his skin.
Even though I’d avoided looking at him ever since he’d sat down, I couldn’t stop from searching out Gray now as panic surged through me. Because we’d all taken bets on if Thatch and Chloe would end up eloping while here in Aruba.
They obviously hadn’t.
But Gray and I had.
Those clear green eyes shifted to me, void of emotion, when he was usually bursting with it. And for some reason, that was what broke me.
I shoved my chair back. “I won. I’m going back to bed.” The words were strangled as they scraped past the shards of glass in my throat, but, thankfully, it just sounded like I was hungover instead of choking back tears.
I didn’t look at any of them as I stood and left. I didn’t glance over my shoulder to see if Wren claimed my seat, because I already knew she would. I didn’t let my tears start falling until I was back in my room.
And when Gray came knocking hours later, I didn’t answer.