Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
THE OH-SHIT MOMENT
Ella
With my stomach in knots and my heart in tatters, I finally found Gordain outside the front of the house. He hadn’t been in his room, so I’d called his phone, but there had been no answer. He’d gone running. I might’ve guessed.
He slowed his steps, gravel crunching under his feet.
“Hey.” I lifted my hand to shade my eyes.
“Did ye need me?”
“I’m booking the flights and I need your passport number.”
His hands went to his hips. “We need to fly someplace?”
God, this was awkward. A wall had descended between us, and it was all my fault. “New York first to see the lawyers’ partner firm and get them ready to go with all the paperwork, then,” I swallowed, “Vegas.”
“Las Vegas?”
“We can get a marriage certificate almost immediately. Then hold the ceremony the same day.”
He looked at the sky, his big body tense and his workout shirt straining over his muscular frame. “Maybe we could have Elvis conduct the service.”
I forced a laugh, feeling anything but amused.
“When do we fly?” He brought his gaze back to me.
“This afternoon. If that’s okay?”
“Aye. Whatever you need.” Gordain passed me, heading back into the house. After a few steps, he paused, as if realising something. “What day will we get back?”
“Maybe Tuesday? It depends on how long it all takes once the lawyers are doing their thing. But you’re off work, right? Is there somewhere else you need to be?”
Emotion flitted over his face. But whatever it was that had given him pause got quickly locked down. “I told you, I’m there for however long you need. I’ll pack a bag.”
He took another step then turned back. “Did you tell James the plan?”
“I would’ve, but he’s taken Beth to see her doctor. She woke feverish. If they aren’t back before we leave, I’ll call them from the States.”
Gordain gave me a salute. Then he left me standing there, knowing I’d caused this, knowing I’d broken us, but with no idea how to fix it.
We drove to Manchester in almost total silence. Gordain hid behind sunglasses, and I hid behind driving. At the airport, we checked in and went through security, still not talking. A weariness came over me, and I sank into a seat in the waiting area.
“Did ye sleep much last night?” Gordain asked.
“Not at all.”
“We’ve got two hours until boarding. Close your eyes.”
He didn’t touch me, but his tenderness coupled with my tiredness sent a wave of emotion tumbling through me. He cared about me, and I’d messed everything up.
“I’m sorry,” I uttered. “About all of this.”
Gordain tipped his head back and, from my angle against my seat, I couldn’t see his features. “Hush,” he said, his voice tight.
So I did.
The flight had been almost fully booked, so we were in separate seats. I didn’t see Gordain again until we landed. He arrived at my shoulder, silent, his sunglasses back in position.
A sentinel. A guard at my back. I trusted him with my life, despite the fact I had no clue what was going on in his head.
Our taxi took us from JFK into the city, heavy traffic surrounding the car. It being late afternoon in New York, the time difference worked to our advantage.
“What’s the plan now?” Gordain asked, his first words in forever.
“We go to the lawyers’ office. Then back to the airport for the flight to Vegas.”
“Tonight?”
“Yep. Sorry.” My heart ached, and all of a sudden, I needed to say more. Say everything. Tell him why this was both perfect and awful at the same time. “Listen, I know this is ridiculous. You and me—”
“Stop,” he cut in, his tone kind but final. “We’re doing this. We’re both adults and we ken the consequences. Don’t we?”
He’d be my husband. I’d be his wife. The consequences couldn’t be more serious. I inclined my head. Cars blared horns, our driver swore in a thick accent.
“There’s nothing more to be said.”
I did as he’d asked and shut up. For now, at least.
The appointment with the Manhattan lawyers—three stony-faced, sharp-suited women—lasted for hours. They knew their business, and I signed my name on rapidly drafted paperwork.
They confirmed that the plan was sound. As well as being my only shot.
Gordain waited, his expression unreadable. He drank the proffered coffee and agreed to his part as my fiancé. Otherwise, he kept to his statue impression.
He stepped out for a short time, where, I didn’t know. When he returned, he seemed…jittery. He paced, rather than sitting.
Then we were back on the road, to the airport, and in the air, flying to Las Vegas.
This time, we sat together. Just us on the row of three. Me at the window, Gordain in the centre. The engines roared, and the plane rumbled forward, angling as we soared into the New York night.
It was then that the oh-shit moment hit me.
This was happening. Not the inheritance, or the taking back of what my uncle had stolen, but I was getting married.
Not an event I could take lightly. No matter how it had come about or the initial purpose.
I wanted this.
Him, for life.
Soaring in a plane, high over the bright lights of a big city, I made a quiet little vow to my husband-to-be.
“What is it?” Gordain murmured.
“Hmm?”
“You were staring at me, and your lips moved but nothing came out.”
They did? “I was thinking about the next step.”
Gordain’s steady gaze held mine. Since this morning, England time, he’d been near me, within touching distance for much of it, but barely making eye contact.
“You don’t have to worry.”
“I don’t?”
His mouth curved at one side, but it was a short-lived expression. A fleeting movement of lips I loved kissing. “Aye, lass. I know my part and I’m good with that. When it’s done, you send me the papers, and I’ll sign.”
“What papers?”
“Divorce. Annulment. Whatever works.”
I stared. “End it?” Then words burst out of my mouth. “Married couples should know each other really well. We should fill in the gaps.”
“You think someone will quiz us?
“No. I mean for us.”
Two honey-dark eyebrows shot together. “I ken ye well enough.”
“Enough to marry me?”
He tilted his head. “Your favourite colour is blue like the hoodie of mine you kept. You’re afraid of spiders.
You love your nephew above anyone else in the world and you should be running your own business by now but you delayed it in order to test the waters at university—a decision you regret.
You prefer coffee to tea. You have a sensitive spot on your neck that makes you shiver when I kiss you there, and your greatest fear is… ”
He stopped.
“My greatest fear is what?”
Gordain broke eye contact and dropped his head back on the seat. He gazed up as if seeking inspiration, then sighed, giving no answer.
“See,” I said, “this is why we needed this chat. You’re wrong about some of those things. My favourite colour?”
A pair of beautiful eyes found mine once more.
“Gordain’s eyes—grey. There are multiple places on my body that quiver when you even look my way. And right now, my greatest fear is that my problems are going to break us apart.”
My hands shook, but I reached over and took his nearest one.
Gordain faced me, his brow furrowed but his mouth a straight line. “I told you, I’ll do whatever you need. It’s just a piece of paper.”
We both winced. Because that wasn’t true at all. We’d been at the cusp of a huge change in our relationship, then bam, marriage had landed in our laps.
It altered everything.
“Can we not talk about ending it?” I pressed his hand, dropping my gaze. “We have all of this process to get through for the sake of money—”
“It’s not just the money, is it? You’re taking back your birthright. What that man stole.”
“I’d give it up if I thought I’d lose you.”
Gordain sat taller, palming the armrest. A look of frustration came over him. “How much is that place worth?”
“A lot.” Tens of millions. A life-changing amount. “But I have a home. I’ve got the ability to make a career for myself and earn money. What I could never replace is a stubborn Scot who doesn’t know his own value.”
He shook his head, but the corner of his lips twisted, a smile trying to force its way out.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough to thaw the ice between us. A few minutes later, Gordain lifted the armrest. His hand took mine, and he pulled me against him.
“Then we’ll do this thing and stop talking about what comes after.” His voice, so low, almost became lost in the rumble of the plane.
“Sounds good to me,” I answered, just as quiet.
His chest heaved on an inhale, but nothing more was said.
The five-hour flight disappeared in a fog of dozing.
Gordain held me against him, and the flight attendants dimmed the cabin’s lights.
All the travelling had exhausted me, but I’d cat-napped waiting for the first flight.
I was pretty sure Gordain hadn’t slept. He did now.
The gentle movement of his chest told me so.
I shifted to lay across his lap, and he curled around me.
When this was done, when the papers were signed and handed over to the lawyers, I’d find a way to make this up to him.
An idea came to me in a rush. My heart raced.
If all went to plan, I had an inkling of what that making-up might look like.
Yeah. I knew precisely what I was going to do.