Chapter 23 #2
“It’s just water,” I said on a murmured tease as I tipped the bottle back and took a long drink before handing it to Gray.
The bane of my absolute existence. My best friend in the world. My husband.
“That isn’t what I was talking about,” he mumbled before downing half the bottle and offering me the rest. When I shook my head, he finished the bottle and tossed it into the nearby trash. Taking his time, as if I wasn’t waiting for him to explain what he had been talking about.
Just as I started glancing his way again to ask for clarification, he delivered a teasing bite to my jaw and added, “I like you in my clothes.”
I jammed my elbow into his stomach, even though my smile had widened at the obnoxious, caveman-like claim.
“It’s just a shirt,” I said teasingly, altering my previous words as I turned in his arms, letting him lead me back toward the bed, even though we’d just left it and put on some clothing. “And you’re changing the subject.”
He nodded as he pulled me onto the bed and wrapped me in his arms, capturing my mouth to do exactly that.
Change the subject. Distract me with his lips and a kiss to rival every other kiss we’d shared that night. And for once, I was so perfectly content to be distracted by this man and his enticing mouth and wandering hands.
But he didn’t let us go there . . . again. Even though there’d been plenty of agains throughout the hours after our impromptu wedding. He eventually slowed the kiss until it was nothing more than the softest, sweetest brushes of his mouth across mine before he pressed our foreheads together.
But when he reluctantly pulled away to search my face with his mint green eyes, I knew he was done changing the subject.
Still, I waited as he searched my face for long minutes, his thumb brushing along my bottom lip and cheek before he finally said, “After everything I’ve put you through, with all the—”
“We went over this,” I hurried to say over him, not willing to get into that after every beautiful moment we’d shared.
“Briefly,” he corrected, his throat shifting with a forced swallow.
It was my turn to nod because it had been brief.
But I’d also believed every word Gray told me when he confessed to being in love with me for over a decade.
I’d believed the agony and remorse in his eyes when he told me he regretted ever trying to drown out the pain of not having me with other women.
Because it’d mirrored my own agony and remorse for every lie I’d ever told him. Something I’d blurted out, to his absolute shock, after drink number three or four.
And for tonight—for now—those confessions had been enough.
“And we agreed not to get into every little thing tonight,” I reminded him. “We agreed to wait until we got home.”
Gray took a slow, deep breath before once again resting his forehead against mine. “Then what about getting into what you mean to me?”
I let my hand slide down his arm until I met where his fingers were clutching my hip. Wiggling the ring that was slightly too big for his finger, I informed him, “I know what I mean to you.”
His head shifted against mine, as if in denial, before he passed a feather-soft kiss across my lips.
“Not sure you can ever understand what you mean to me,” he muttered before pressing another kiss there and pulling away to study me as he continued.
“From that first day, you’ve saved me with that cold glare.
You’ve kept me from the darkest parts of my mind with that rare, reluctant smile.
You gave me every reason to live, with your easy hostility and hard-to-earn laughs, and I’m grateful. ”
Bemusement stole through me, silencing the butterflies in my stomach and calming the ridiculous fluttering of my pulse.
Although I knew he was declaring something that would’ve incited those things had I not already been in a constant state of both for hours now, he was also stating things that were so, very wrong.
But I couldn’t seem to open my mouth to demand an explanation.
“Loving you from a distance has been the privilege of my life so far. Calling you my wife?” His mouth twitched into one of those soft smiles. Smiling my smile as he confessed things that didn’t make sense. Confusing things. Heartbreaking things.
Denials built and gathered on my too-thick tongue, all while my vision blurred and spun.
But then Gray’s smile slipped. His expression faltered as he blinked.
Blinked too long. Too slow.
With a weighted exhale, he rolled to his back, his hand dragging along my waist as if he was trying to hold on as his head fell heavily to the bed.
“Calling you my wife?” he repeated, the words coming slower and not quite as clear, but I wasn’t sure if that was his speech or because I was suddenly fighting to remain conscious. “Nothing will ev—water.” Panic laced the last word.
At least . . . I thought it had.
“Monroe—Mallory. Wake up.” Unsteady hands weakly gripped at my arms. My neck. My face. “Peach, wake up.”
I was awake. I was looking at him. Wasn’t I?
“Come on, Peach,” he begged, his words rough and slurred together. The blatant fear coating them settled over my body that felt so heavy and, somehow, felt like it was no longer there.
Rolling me away from him, Gray struggled to grip my jaw.
“Need you to . . . wake. Wake up.” A head slammed on top of mine.
“Throw up. Mallory. Throw it—” The hand on my jaw went slack and fell away, lying limply across my chest. The last thing I heard before finally drifting into sleep’s tempting embrace was a weak, indistinct, “Throw it up.”
I was crouched in the middle of my living room, fingers woven through my hair and gripping tight, when the new, disturbing memory faded.
Trembling and trembling as my chest heaved and my mind raced and my vibrating phone went ignored.
As everything started falling into place in a horrifying, gut-wrenching way.
After the first two memories I’d been given of that night, I was assuming I would’ve woken up miserable and cursing alcohol that morning in Aruba, even though I’d been fairly clear-headed in this most recent one.
But this? Gray and I hadn’t remembered anything because someone had drugged us. Someone had wanted to drug me, considering it’d been in my room.
And I knew that water had been in my room when we’d arrived. Now that I was fully sober and away from all the blissful highs of the night, I was positive the marriage certificate had been the only thing Gray or I had brought back into the room with us.
But even though I knew that bottle could’ve ended up in my room in so many ways, given what we did and what we’d seen in our line of work, I couldn’t figure out who had put it there and for what purpose. Not with the Wreckers hiding from us. Not while we were in Aruba.
My chest heaved as potential outcomes raced through my mind, each one making me feel more vulnerable than the last because, for the first time, I would’ve been powerless against them.
But Gray had been there.
Except . . . he’d been drugged too, he’d been unconscious too, and nothing had happened.
I dragged my hands through my hair as I tried to make sense of something so beyond my grasp. Forcing myself to my full height, I turned to start pacing, only to stop when my phone vibrated for the umpteenth time.
Pulling it out of my pocket, I instinctively turned for my front door, assuming Gray was letting me know he was here because I needed him, and he always seemed to know when I did, only to still when I saw the messages weren’t from him at all.
“Oh no,” I murmured as I opened the group text I was now apparently part of.
Sunshiney Chloe Thatcher
Oh my GOSH! You and Hudson are MARRIED?!
Congratulations!
I truly can’t think of a more perfect couple.
Bossman’s Lainey
Wait, what? WHAT?!
No way! Is this a joke? Please tell me it isn’t.
Sunshiney Chloe Thatcher
Adam just told me, even though he’s apparently known for days!
Jerk.
Bossman’s Lainey
Oh my gosh. MALLORY! Congratulations! Is that why you wanted a dress and makeup? To get married?
Why am I crying?
Wait, does Asher know?
Sunshiney Chloe Thatcher
If he does, you can blame hormones when you smack him for not telling you. I didn’t have anything to blame.
I drew in a hitched breath and felt tears prick at the backs of my own eyes as I tapped out a response. Once I sent it, I pocketed my phone and swiped at the rebellious tears that managed to slip free.
Me
Yes, we’re married. We eloped in Aruba the day of Briggs and Lainey’s wedding. The team just found out over the weekend because there’s a lot that did and didn’t happen in Aruba that has kept us apart since.
A lot that did and didn’t happen . . .
A shaky, remorseful sound wrenched from my chest as the weight of those words bore down on me.
Gray hadn’t been drunkenly careless with me. He hadn’t just proposed to me because he’d been wasted out of his mind, even though I still didn’t know how we’d decided to elope. Wren hadn’t happened.
Gray had loved me in a way I’d never even let myself imagine someone could or would.
He had cared for me in ways that were so beautiful, I would’ve given anything to be able to remember that night without the haze that seemed to cover all the memories.
I had even believed him about all the women over the years—wholly and without holding it against him. We’d been happy. Excited.
And a bottle of tainted water had stolen all of it.
Twisting what should’ve been the start of something incredible into our downfall. It’d turned me into someone I didn’t recognize until I’d almost lost him forever.
My head snapped to the side and relief barreled through me when a knock sounded at my door.
Ignoring my vibrating phone, I hurried to the front of my condo and swung open the door.
My lips already parted as everything I’d learned—remembered—sat heavily on my tongue, begging to be released first. All while apologies climbed up my throat, choking me.
But the man waiting outside my door wasn’t the bane of my existence. My best friend. My husband.