Текст книги "I Do"

Автор книги: A. J. Pine

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Chapter Sixteen

Maggie

The hotel was only a few buildings down the road from Ambrosia, so the girls walked in silence for the few minutes it took to get there. They entered the restaurant and were immediately ushered by one of Elaina’s relatives—Maggie thought maybe an uncle, though she couldn’t remember his name—to the small party room that would house this evening’s festivities.

“This is the small room?” Maggie asked, and Jordan giggled as they both handed their coats to a server.

“I think they’re using the whole main restaurant for the wedding, so yeah. This counts as small,” Jordan said.

Maggie spun slowly, taking in the surroundings—a long row of pillow-topped booth seats lined the side wall, each with a rectangular table and two chairs facing the booth. The windowed wall that looked out over the beach housed seven round tables, each seating four. Small, recessed lights gave the earth-toned furniture a warm, amber glow.

Much like this morning’s display of food, there was a table at the far end set with appetizers and shots of what she was sure was ouzo.

“Okay,” Jordan said as they approached the table. “I don’t see coffee.”

Maggie picked up a shot first. “When in Rome? Or Greece, I guess.”

Jordan’s eyes widened, and Maggie could tell the girl was trying not to say the wrong thing, so she let her off the hook as quickly as she could.

“That weekend in Chicago—I knew my limits, and I ignored them. I don’t know how much Griffin’s told you, but I had an aneurysm at nineteen.” Maggie let out a bitter laugh. “I had a great surgeon. Saved my life, but I’m not…the same.”

“Oh, Maggie,” Jordan said. “No, I didn’t know. I mean, I knew something was up that weekend, but I had no idea…”

Maggie had never asked Griffin not to say anything, but at the same time her heart swelled to know he hadn’t, that he’d left it as her story to tell, if she wanted to.

“It’s okay,” Maggie said, even though her voice shook a little on those words. Going back over what happened was never easy because it always brought that fear of what if it happens again to the surface. “I’m not the same,” she continued. “But I’m getting better. I’m learning to be okay with what I can’t change. But that weekend? Griffin didn’t know the history—why I got the headaches and couldn’t drink like most college students did. I didn’t want him to think I was different or fragile or someone he needed to take care of, so I was reckless because I was scared.” But Maggie wasn’t on the blood thinners anymore. And yes, the migraines were still a regular part of her life, but she’d had three years to read her body’s signals and anticipate her triggers—though they still snuck up on her from time to time. She couldn’t control everything. A drink every now and then? She could do that. She’d stayed hydrated on the flight. She’d slept. And aside from letting her worry get the best of her today, she felt great.

Miles wasn’t here, Griffin wasn’t here, and she was in a strange place all by herself—and she felt great.

“Oh my God,” Maggie said and started giggling. Then laughing. And she hadn’t even had the shot yet. “I’m okay.”

She picked up another shot and handed it to the still-confused Jordan.

“All day I’ve been worried not just about this wedding and whether or not it would happen,” she started, “but about Griffin and me—waiting for the other shoe to drop when I don’t even think the first one ever did, you know?”

She expected Jordan to maintain that bug-eyed expression, to think her as crazy as she probably sounded, but instead she nodded.

“Holy shit,” Jordan said. “It’s like you just explained my mental state for the past two years, let alone today. Can I say again how sorry I am we didn’t connect this afternoon before you came to my door?”

It didn’t matter now. Maggie knew that no matter what happened from here on out, she’d be okay. She’d planned on this trip being an upset to her carefully laid out routine. She hadn’t anticipated losing Griffin and Miles for the day, and that had thrown her for a loop. But she was still standing…with a full shot of ouzo in her hand, and dammit if she wasn’t doing just fine.

“What are you two pussy lightweights waiting for?”

Elaina was next to them now, shot in hand. She was exquisite in an ice-blue toga-style gown with her black hair pulled back in an elegant bun with a few escaping tendrils framing her face.

“You’re gorgeous,” Maggie said, and Elaina rolled her eyes.

“I know it is cliché to wear something that looks like it came from Aphrodite’s closet, but I have fantastic shoulders. Duncan needs to see exactly what he is giving up.” She eyed the two Americans still holding their shots. “Now yell fuck it or opa or something, and let’s get on with it.”

“Do I slam my shot glass on the ground when I’m done?” Jordan asked, and Maggie wasn’t sure if she was messing with Elaina or if it was in earnest.

“Oooopa! Fuck it!” Elaina yelled, loud enough to turn heads, and she threw back the shot, then placed the empty glass back on the table.

Jordan shrugged and looked at Maggie. “I guess we don’t shatter the glass.”

“Opa!” Maggie yelled.

“Fuck it!” Jordan added.

And the two girls drank in unison, following Elaina’s lead by salvaging the glasses.

Maggie’s throat burned, and her head swam. In the past year she’d had the occasional beer or glass of white wine, but ouzo was a far cry from a drink she sipped slowly over the course of an entire evening.

“Shit,” Maggie said, placing her hand on the corner of the table to steady her stance.

“Shit is right,” Jordan said, and then let out a small hiccup followed by a giggle.

“Fucking shit,” Elaina said, but her gaze moved past Maggie and Jordan to the room’s open doorway. In it stood three men, visibly weary with travel, one of them with a noticeable bruise on his cheek and his eye swollen half shut.

Griffin and Noah froze, waiting for Duncan to make the first move. When his eyes landed on Elaina, he took a small step back. A stagger, Maggie thought. And she knew Elaina had accomplished what she set out to do. If, in fact, Duncan had gotten cold feet, the way he looked at Elaina now spoke volumes. He knew what he was missing.

But as he barreled through the growing crowd of people, some of them surely his own family who tried to pull him aside, Maggie knew that stagger wasn’t out of realization for what he’d given up. It was for finally finding what he’d been looking for. Probably all day.

Elaina shook her head as he approached, but Maggie could hear her labored breathing. Both she and Jordan backed up against the window as Duncan wrapped his arms around Elaina’s waist and kissed her without uttering a word. For a moment Elaina remained rigid, unmoving, but Maggie watched as she relaxed into the kiss, and she and Jordan let out a collective sigh.

“Ladies,” Duncan said when he finally came up for air, bowing his head in greeting. “M-My apologies for being late.” His voice shook, and he stammered on his words, yet still he exuded that charm she remembered. There were a lot of things Maggie forgot, but you didn’t forget someone like Duncan McAllister. Despite whatever he’d been through today—and whatever hell Elaina was about to drag him through—Maggie couldn’t help but smile in his presence.

He kissed Jordan on the cheek. “Congratulations on the engagement,” he said, and Jordan gasped. Maggie received a kiss as well. “I bet you’re right proud of Griffin getting that job in Washington. I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a wedding to save.”

He turned back to Elaina, and Maggie could see the temporary spell of the kiss evaporate as Elaina’s eyes narrowed at her fiancé. Duncan opened his mouth to say something to her, but she stormed out the back door and onto the beach. Still carrying his messenger bag slung across his body, he didn’t hesitate before chasing after her, leaving Maggie and Jordan stunned in his wake.

Noah and Griffin made their way through the confused crowd until they stood in front of what looked like a delightedly silent Jordan and a horrified Maggie.

Here she thought she was being ridiculous, worrying when there was nothing she could place her finger on to worry about. Turns out she didn’t need to wait for the other shoe to drop. They were both dropping at the same damned time.

“What?” Noah asked. Jordan’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“Why…” Jordan hiccupped again, and Maggie remembered the ouzo. Maybe she misunderstood what Duncan said. Maybe it was just her low tolerance for liquor. “Why…” Jordan continued, “did Duncan just congratulate me on my engagement?”

“Jesus, Duncan,” Noah said, running a hand through his hair. “This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen.”

“Shit,” Griffin mumbled under his breath. His eyes locked on Maggie’s, and she knew he wanted to say something, to answer the dread he must have seen in her eyes, but neither of them would interrupt Noah and Jordan’s unexpected moment.

“Brooks,” Noah said, his voice soft and low, but it didn’t matter. The room went silent as he dropped to one knee and fumbled in his bag until he produced a small velvet box.

Jordan hiccupped again, but this time it wasn’t the alcohol. It was a small sob, and Maggie’s gut twisted. Jordan and Noah’s lives were changing right in front of her, in the best possible way. And after she said yes—because of course she would—Griffin was going to confirm what Duncan spoiled for her, that Griffin was moving to Washington and leaving her behind. What the hell was in Washington? Did Duncan mean D.C.? God, was he taking a job somehow connected to his father’s political aspirations? How much did she not know about the man she lived with?

Maggie’s head swam again. Stupid ouzo. Stupid Maggie for thinking she was safe from being knocked on her ass by anything life threw at her anymore. She may have been standing in everyone else’s eyes, but inside she was grasping for purchase, doing everything she could to stay upright.

Jordan covered her mouth with her hands as tears streamed down her face, and all Maggie wished was that this moment and what she knew would come after could be fast-forwarded, just so she was sure she made it through. Instead, time seemed to slow down. Griffin grabbed her hand, tried to thread his fingers through hers, but she pulled away, his touch too much to bear.

Noah opened the box before speaking again, revealing a round solitaire diamond ring. It might not have been huge, but Maggie’s front-row seat confirmed it was beautiful.

“God,” he started. “I wasn’t supposed to do this off the cuff, you know? I had the right moment in my head. Everything was going to be perfect.” He chuckled. “But perfect has never been our way, has it?”

Jordan shook her head, still cupping her hands to her mouth.

“I fell for you as soon as I met you, Brooks. Being stuck with you in a train vestibule should have put me into a freaking panic attack, but instead it made me realize what I didn’t even know I was missing.”

Jordan let her hands fall, one of them reaching for Noah’s cheek. He leaned into her palm and kissed it.

“I got a lot wrong that year,” he continued. “But the one thing I got right was not letting you get away. Thank you for not giving up on me.” He dropped her hand so he could remove the ring from the box. “I love you, Brooks. It doesn’t matter that it’s been three years. Every day I wake up with you next to me is like falling for you all over again. I know our lives are crazy right now, but I also know we’ll get through it. Because we’re us.” He cleared his throat and held the ring up to her. “Let’s be us always, Brooks. Marry me.”

Jordan nodded as he slid the ring onto her finger. Then he rose to meet her.

“Say the word, Brooks.” Noah glanced around at their captive audience. “Everyone’s waiting for you to say it out loud. I’d kind of like to hear it, too.”

Jordan let out a laughing sob and then cupped his cheeks in her hands. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Noah. I love you. I want to be us. Always.”

The room erupted in applause as the newly engaged couple kissed, no one the wiser that outside, tomorrow’s groom was most likely trying to convince the bride to still have him, or that right in the very room where a couple just promised their lives to each other, another was on the brink of falling apart.

“We need to talk.”

Griffin’s hand was around Maggie’s wrist, and he was pulling her back toward the door and out into the main restaurant.

But it didn’t really matter what he was about to say, because after a year of trusting the first person outside of her gran and Miles, Griffin had lied to her. She was always so afraid that letting him into her life was a risk for him—that somehow he’d end up getting hurt. But she’d had it all wrong. Because here they were, thousands of miles from home, on what should have been the best weekend they’d ever had, and the only thing she was sure of now was that whatever Griffin said next would break her heart.

Chapter Seventeen

Duncan

Duncan was really tired of running, so it was a good thing the sand was there to slow Elaina down. He caught up to her quickly, grabbing her hand and forcing her to face him.

The sun hadn’t quite set yet, the glare of the waning light bouncing off the waves and backlighting the woman in front of him. Even with the hindrance of his swollen eye, he marveled at how Elaina still took his breath away. From the second he’d seen her, he knew that it wasn’t marrying her that had tripped him up this morning. He had no doubt that she was the only person he could fathom giving his life to. But the big picture? Leaving his home for the unknown? Well, that was fucking terrifying, and Elaina should understand at least that—the reason why he took his eyes off his damn bag and let this day turn to complete and utter shite.

“Are you going to say something, or are you just going to stare at me like a pirate?”

Duncan couldn’t help it. He threw back his head and laughed—a full-on howl. His eyes even watered a bit—well, the good one did, at least. He realized he hadn’t really let go of the stress of the day, and no matter how angry Elaina was at him, being in her presence washed away all the rest.

Elaina took advantage of his moment of weakness and stalked off toward the water again. The wind whipped at them wildly, and he watched as she cupped her shoulders in her hands, rubbing them to keep warm.

“I could warm you up,” he said as he approached, and Elaina whirled on him, arms crossed.

“You don’t call me the whole day. Just a text that says, Forgive me. I couldn’t get on the second plane. What am I supposed to think? You make me lie to my family…and yours. You come here looking like—like—I don’t even know what you look like. But you do not look like the man I’m supposed to marry in the morning.”

He staggered back, this time not because she took his breath away but because she knocked the wind out of him.

“My phone was dead. And that arsehole security bloke only let me make one call on his phone.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t even matter. Wha’ am I supposed to look like, Elaina? If I showed up at ten o’clock this morning, hair combed and face free of any sign that would remind you of what you really see when you look at me, would you forget that I’m a mess sometimes? That I make mistakes? That I’m not a perfect man? I never pretended to be anything other than what I was. But you never really accepted that. Did ya, now?”

Elaina huffed out a breath but squeezed her arms tighter.

Three years ago, he had loved that she was a challenge—someone to whom he had to prove himself worthy. But had he ever really proved anything? Or had she just let her heart overrule her head until now? He knew he was a good man, that he loved her, and all this time he thought that was enough.

Was he always on time? No. Did he still like to have, on occasion, one more pint than his body’s self-imposed limit? Of course. He wasn’t going to apologize for that, except on the rare occasion when he woke up on the Haudagain Roundabout back home in Aberdeen, but that hadn’t happened in two years. And then it was only two other times before that. Christ, he liked to have fun, but he knew how to be a responsible adult when the time called for it. But did Elaina have that faith in him?

“I think you wanted to get angry with me today. And fucking hell—I gave you good reason.” Duncan paced now. He was so ready to beg for her forgiveness that he hadn’t realized he was bloody angry, too. “You want to know why I didn’t call you, Elaina? Why I chose Griffin over you?”

Elaina flinched at his words, and something twisted in his gut, but it was like he was a runaway train—full-steam ahead, no matter what came out of his mouth.

“Because I knew he wouldn’t judge me. He lives on another continent. I haven’t seen him in more than a year. But I knew if I called him, he’d show up—no questions asked. And hell, Elaina. That’s what he did. What if it was you on the other end of that call? What if I had called you?”

Even in the fading light, he could see her skin pricked with goose bumps. He ached to press his palms to her shoulders and rub her flesh warm. But it was like the beach was made of quicksand, rooting them in their anger and stubbornness.

At first she said nothing, so he waited. What was the rush? It wasn’t as if there was a restaurant full of people waiting for them.

Finally, Elaina let out a long sigh, which to Duncan was admission enough. But still, he waited.

“I do not know,” she admitted.

But he did. Duncan knew he loved this woman, but he also knew she would have chosen anger over understanding. He knew from her narrowed eyes as soon as he saw her that she had already judged him.

“I don’ know where tha’ leaves us,” he said. Then he opened his bag, the one he risked missing his own wedding to save, and pulled out the tartan scarf. She didn’t flinch when he took a step toward her, close enough for him to drape the fabric over the pebbled skin of her shoulders.

“This is why I was late,” he said, letting his hands linger on top of the scarf—on her. “It’s why I look the way I do. I let the bag out of my sight for one bloody second, and it was stolen. I chased the arsehole. I did. But I guess you can see that didn’t turn out like I’d planned.” He patted the messenger bag slung across his body. When he stepped back, she grabbed the tartan edges tight. Elaina’s eyes shone with not-yet-fallen tears, and something caught in Duncan’s throat. It wasn’t a sob, because if there was one thing Duncan McAllister did not do, it was cry. On a beach. In what felt like some sort of tragic scene in a romantic movie.

He swallowed hard, unsure what this moment was or what it meant for them. All he knew was that this didn’t feel much like a celebration.

“I look like shite,” he said. “You’re right about that. But I feel like shite, too. I’m going in there and saying hello to my mum and dad—to yours, too. I’m going to have some food, maybe a pint or two, and then I’m going to the hotel. I think we need to decide what’s happening tomorrow, Elaina. I think we need to—”

“Duncan,” she said, her voice cracking on the first syllable. But he shook his head.

“I don’t want you to have to pretend with me,” he said. “I don’t want you to expect me to mess up and then judge me when I do. And I definitely don’t want you to wish I was anyone other than who I am. Because I never wished that about you.”

He held out his hand, and she looked down at it, then back up at him.

“Let’s walk in together, aye? No matter what happens now, I love you. And I know it’s not been an easy day. So we’ll eat—and drink—and when you’re ready, we’ll talk.”

Elaina laced her fingers through his, her skin cold against his warmth.

Duncan waited for some other response. What? He didn’t know.

Elaina Tripoli collected herself. She didn’t cry. She no longer seemed like she wanted to yell. And she followed him inside.

Chapter Eighteen

Griffin

Griffin sat at an empty two-top in a far corner of the unused restaurant. Maggie didn’t follow his lead.

“Please sit?” he said, but it came out like a question.

Freaking Duncan. Maybe they should have skipped the champagne on the short flight. Maybe when a guy was having one of the shittiest days of his life, it wasn’t the time to unload personal secrets on him. Maybe he never should have kept a secret from Maggie in the first place. But here they were, him sitting, pleading—and her barely able to look at him.

“Pippi. Please.”

She sat, and she even let her eyes meet his, but those emerald eyes that always grounded him, that let him know how much he was loved, were distant. Unrecognizable.

“I’m sitting,” she said. “But you don’t get to call me that, Griffin. Not now.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.” He had a captive audience, and at least that was a start. “Can I ask…what did Duncan tell you?”

Maggie scoffed out a bitter laugh, something so unlike her, and it felt like a needle pricking his skin. He’d brought this out in her, and he hated himself for it.

“Do you need to check to make sure your story matches up with his?” she asked.

He shook his head. He was going about this all wrong. But didn’t she know him enough to understand that when it came to her, his intentions were always good? Everything came from a place of loving her, a place he didn’t know was capable of existing inside him until she entered his life.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “Maggie…I didn’t lie to you. I didn’t mean to, anyway.”

She just sat there, a statue, eyes on him, yet some sort of invisible barrier kept her from seeing him.

He reached into the pocket of his jeans. God, look at her in that dress. He was travel weary, and he knew he needed a shower. He felt out of place in her clean elegance. Her undeniable beauty—and her never-wavering honesty.

“Here,” he said, sliding the folded piece of paper across the table. “I was just waiting for the right time to tell you.”

She unfolded the congratulatory letter, her movements slow and deliberate. And then she read.

Upon reading the first line, Maggie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She couldn’t hold back the involuntary smile, but she shuttered the expression as quickly as it came. Even when she was angry at him, when she felt the sting of betrayal, she was happy for him. But delaying the truth had robbed her of sharing in his joy.

When she finished reading, she refolded the letter and slid it back across the table to him. It took her a few moments to look up, and when she did, she wore a smile—one that didn’t reach her eyes and didn’t make that spot on top of her nose crinkle the way he loved.

“I’m proud of you,” she said. “I was afraid when Duncan said Washington that you’d gone back to your father. But this? This is really good. I’m sure you’ll be really happy in D.C.”

Her fingers were still on the paper, and she fidgeted with it in the silence.

He laid a hand on hers to stop her nervous motion.

“I didn’t accept it, Maggie. Not yet. I wouldn’t—not without you.”

Her smile morphed into one he knew was real, but it was also sad.

She bit her lip. “But you applied for it without me.”

He had, and at the time it didn’t seem like a big deal.

“I didn’t think I’d get it,” he said. “It was just a what if? It wasn’t anything we needed to talk about because it wasn’t going to happen.”

She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms over her chest, squeezing herself tight. Griffin wanted those to be his arms around her. And they would be soon, right? He hadn’t done something irrevocable. Had he?

“It did happen,” she said. “When did the letter come?”

“When you came home sick.”

Maggie’s eyes widened, and she pushed back her chair and stood from the table.

“And you didn’t think I could handle it?”

He rose to meet her and placed his hands on her cheeks.

“It wasn’t the right time to talk about something this big. You were… And then we…”

The words weren’t coming out right, so he pulled out the big guns and tried to kiss her. If they could just reconnect, she’d understand. But Maggie’s hands were on his wrists like lightning, forcing him to drop his hands to his sides.

“I get it,” she said. “I was too much of a mess then to tell me. And then all those hours we spent on the plane together when I felt perfectly fine, you just assumed I’d fall apart? That I couldn’t handle the news? That I was weak?” Maggie took a step back, her hard stare rooting him in place. “It’s not just the letter, Griffin. You didn’t even tell me you were applying for this fellowship in the first place.” She paused for a long breath. “You convinced me that you believed in me,” she said.

“I do!” he blurted out. “Jesus, Maggie. I have always believed in you. I still believe in you.” His voice was frantic. Irrevocable was starting to feel like a real possibility, and he was clawing, tooth and nail, to make her hear.

She shook her head, and he knew he was losing his grip. They were on a ledge, and she was about to fall off. Or worse—she was going to knock him off and watch him fall.

“There are only two explanations for you keeping this from me. The first is because you still see me as I saw myself for two years—weak. The second…is that this had nothing to do with me in the first place, that you’re leaving and waiting for the right time to tell me.”

Griffin dropped both hands to the table and bent forward, trying to catch his breath. He wanted to argue with her on both counts. The truth was, he didn’t see her as weak. That was never the case. But he had placed her in his own glass cabinet—beautiful and fragile, only to be taken out with the utmost care. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d just proven to her that’s what he’d done.

And what about the second part?

“You’re right,” he said, straightening to face her, and her breathing hitched at his words. “Not the way you think you are, though. You’re the strongest person I know, Maggie. You might not believe me, but that doesn’t mean I’m lying.” He ran a hand through his hair. “No matter how twisted their means, the only way my parents know how to love me is to protect me from fucking up. My sisters, too. People have always picked up the pieces for me until I finally had the balls to step out on my own. But I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far, huh? Guess I can’t escape being a Reed when it’s all I know.”

He let out a bitter laugh. Maggie was the catalyst for him to change his life. After always taking the easy way out, Griffin cut himself off from his family’s financial support, choosing a job that paid next to nothing but made him happy instead of working for his father. All he’d ever wanted to do was break free from the hold his family had on him and be his own person. But he still couldn’t escape being just like them, treating Maggie how they’d always treated him.

“I thought by waiting I was protecting you—”

“I don’t need protecting,” she interrupted.

He nodded. “I know.” Then he let out a long sigh. “But I was protecting me, too.”

“From what?”

He knew she was still mad, but that didn’t stop him. He grabbed her hand and squeezed, bringing her knuckles to his lips. He just needed at least one part of her close, to maintain the connection before it was lost for good.

“From wanting two things I might not be able to have.”

“You have to take this fellowship,” she said. “You can’t turn down something like this.”

He kept his lips pressed to her skin as he spoke. “I can’t go without you,” he said. “I can’t chase this dream if you don’t chase it with me.”

Maggie inhaled, and he heard the shaking in her breath. Not a good sign. He closed his eyes as he waited for her to respond.

“It’s not my dream,” she said. “And I love you, more than you can imagine, but I can’t let you be my only dream. And I can’t let you jeopardize yours by thinking you need to protect me.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off.

“You just admitted it yourself. The only thing that’s changed in my daily life is adding more classes, and you’re already afraid I’m going to break. What will happen if I uproot my life and go with you? How will you be able to focus on you if you’re always worrying about me?”

He pulled her to him now, and she didn’t protest. Griffin pressed his lips to her forehead, then her eyes and cheeks. Finally her lips. She kissed him back.

“It’s only a year,” she said, but there was nothing convincing in her tone. Griffin had always found something special about kissing away her tears, tasting the salt on his tongue along with everything Maggie. Yet somehow he knew it that night he opened the letter just as he did now—these tears meant the end of something. Maybe not the end of them, not yet. Though as close as he held her…and as much as she clung to him as well…the distance began to grow, and would eventually put hundreds of miles between them.

“Yeah,” he whispered, sure that he would lose it if he tried to speak out loud. “It’s only a year.”