Marriage: Impossible (Voretti Family Book 1) (3 page)

“Of course. I mean, it wasn’t your fault. You were defending yourself.”

“Thanks.” The word came out slow and halting like he used it so infrequently he wasn’t even sure how to pronounce it. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I didn’t
have
to. I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

He reached toward her then changed his mind at the last minute, threading his hand through his short hair.

She wanted to touch him there. She wanted—

“Thanks. For having my back.”

That made a record two
thank yous
in less than a minute, and she struggled to keep the amazement out of her voice. “No problem.”

“So you got me out of the club, and then we were in that wedding chapel, and…” His face paled under his impressive tan. He glanced around, taking in the bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of melted ice. The bouquet of roses tied with a ribbon that read
Congratulations!
in gold glitter. The bowl on the nightstand, filled to the brim with condoms. Last, but not least, he glanced at his ring finger, which had the wedding band she hadn’t been able to pry off.

“No,” she said, starting to correct him, but he was cursing too loudly to hear.

Don’t take it personally. He’s tired. He’s hung over. And who wouldn’t be upset at the idea of being—suddenly and without any memory of the event—married?

Still, the little girl inside her who had doodled hearts with Sean’s initials all over her high school notebooks and dreamed that one day he would finally kiss her, was absolutely crushed.

“What were you doing in Reno anyway?” Sean growled, the implication clear—
if you’d been home where you belonged, none of this would’ve happened
.

She dragged the sheet up, covering herself. “I told you. I had a bachelorette party.”

“Were you meeting a guy?” He let out a cold, hard laugh. “He’s gonna be pissed when he finds out you’re off the market.”

“At least I didn’t go to compete in the latest episode of
Extreme Sports: Death Wish Edition
. Didn’t you hear about those kids who died at The Towers last month?”

Sean’s face went blank. He grabbed his wallet from the nightstand. Then his keys.

Keri’s stomach churned like she was the one with the hangover. “Where are you going?”

He looked at her with that same emotionless expression—the one that had scared her so badly that the last-minute airfare to Reno seemed like a bargain. “None of your business.”

She jumped out of bed.
Dress. Where was her dress
? “You’d better not be going to The Towers.

“Why? You think because Elvis pronounced us man and wife in some bullshit ceremony you’ll have annulled next week you can tell me what to do?”

Anger descended over her—a red haze that obscured everything. “You made a commitment Sean. I don’t care if you were under the influence of twenty gallons of alcohol. It’s done, and you can’t take it back. So you’d better shape up and make something of your life because I’m counting on you.”

Her words echoed inside her head in the ensuing silence. Rational thought slowly returned, and she waited for him to attack. To pronounce her a liar or a manipulator or simply walk out of the room to escape this manufactured responsibility like he’d walked away from all his real ones.

But he didn’t. He stared at her. His shoulders relaxed like her crazy diatribe had somehow freed him of a great burden, and his blank expression resolved into the Sean she knew. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She stood tall even though she was mostly naked, trying to pretend that was exactly what she’d expected to hear. “I mean, I’m glad we understand each other.”

*

Sean had no idea how things had spiraled so far out of control so quickly. All he’d wanted to do was fix just one of the problems he’d caused his best friend. Yet, somehow, he’d done more damage than even he’d thought possible.

When Ty found out Sean had married his sister in some quickie ceremony so they could have a drunken hook-up, he would lose his shit. And Sean wouldn’t blame him.

He didn’t even remember how it had gone down, though it wasn’t hard to figure out. He’d had a hard-on for Keri since puberty. Last night, under the influence of too much alcohol and too little self-control, he’d taken what he’d wanted for so long without any thought to the consequences.

Now he had another mess to clean up. He couldn’t burden Keri with a fuckup like him for a husband. She deserved better than that.

The only solution was a quiet divorce. But if he brought up the idea now, she’d never go for it. She knew he was struggling, and with her naïve, I-can-do-anything-if-I-put-my-mind-to-it attitude, she’d never believe he was unfixable. She’d stick to his side, wrench in hand, until he’d snapped the steel in half. The only way to save her was to convince her he was fine. All better, thank you very much. Good thing he was a decent actor.

“Are you okay?” Keri was looking at him with concern. “Do you want an aspirin? Maybe you should get some more sleep. I can close the curtains and—”

“I’m fine. I’m going to hop in the shower, and then we can get going.”

“Going?” She regarded him cautiously from under lashes that were a wet dream all by themselves. “Where?”

“I thought we’d take a drive down to Lake Tahoe.”

“If you think I’m going to go cliff diving with you, Sean Patterson, you have another think coming. I’ll handcuff you to the steering wheel of that beater truck if I have to.”

Her vehement response coaxed a genuine smile from him. “Don’t worry, Ker Bear. We won’t get anywhere near a cliff. We’ll go for one of those cruises around the lake.”

“Really?” She gave him a hug that was both too long and too short. “I’ve always wanted to go on one of those! Ever since Kimmie Pierce went in sixth grade and would
not
stop talking about it.”

“I remember.”

“Yeah?” Her excited grin transformed into an intent stare that reminded him exactly what they’d been doing before he’d fully woken up.

Shit
. Major strategic error.

He knew what he needed to do. Turn around and walk into the bathroom and lock the door. And then, because he wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about the way Keri had held his gaze when she’d talked about handcuffing him to the truck—like she was planning to use that sexy little body to distract him from his cliff-diving plans—he’d take an ice-cold shower.

He knew all that. Yet he heard himself saying, “You don’t really have handcuffs.”

Her smile was sweet, but her gaze moved down his body like she was perusing a menu. “Was that a statement or a question?”

“Uh…”

She brushed past him, moving into the bathroom. The shower went on.

“Hey!” he shouted. “I called first shower.”

“There’s plenty of room.”

A hint of steam escaped from the half-open door. Just the thought of her there, warm water streaming over those curves he saw every night in his dreams, was enough to get him hard.

He closed his eyes. Forget about it. Not gonna happen.

But instead of changing the subject to baseball scores or battlefield injuries, his brain treated him to an instant replay of Keri in that bed. The way she’d looked in that second between when he’d opened his eyes and when he’d fully awakened. When she hadn’t been his best friend’s sweet, innocent little sister, but a woman who wanted a man. Who wanted him.

His dick rammed against his fly, demanding what it was never going to have, and he groaned. This was going to be the hardest few days of his life. In more ways than one.

*

“You want to
what now
?” Sean clenched his cell phone until the plastic case squeaked in protest. It had to be malfunctioning because there was no way his fellow SEAL, Marcus Hardy, one of his
brothers
, had said—

“I wanna ask Bri out,” Hardy repeated, loud and clear.

What the fuck?

With Keri naked in the shower and Hardy talking crazy, it was like Sean was trapped in a bad dream. But he could tell by the residual ache in his head, from where the bouncer had shoved him into that beam, that he was wide awake. “Why in the hell would you do that?”

“C’mon, man. You’ve seen Bri. She’s hot.”

“So are a lot of women. Find one who’s not your buddy’s ex-fiancée.”

“It’s not like
that
. I already got the okay from Ty.”

“Then why are you calling
me
?”

“Hell if I know.” Then, after a long pause, “I guess I wanted to make sure. You know…that Easy’s really okay with this. I don’t want to move in on his girl if he’s still hung up on her and trying to save face.”

Hardy had gotten it exactly right, but no way could Sean tell him that. You didn’t rat on your best friend, even if it would help him get his fiancée back. “Maybe you should worry less about Ty and more about Bri. You know how obsessed with Ty that chick is.”

“Was. I saw her at
Vapor
last night, and I can one-hundred-percent guarantee that she wasn’t thinking about Easy while she was working it in that tiny skirt they call a uniform.”

“Yeah. She was thinking about her tips.”

“Talk to her yourself. You’ll see.”

Damn right Sean was going to talk to her. As soon as he figured out how to do that without walking into the club where he was persona non grata. “You, uh, have her phone number?”

“Didn’t want to get her digits until I was sure Easy would be okay with it. But I know where she’s gonna be. The girl recited her entire schedule. Must’ve wanted me to know when she’d be free to—”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“You really want to talk to her?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Naw, man.”

 
“So where is she?”

*

If sleep-rumpled Sean had been hot, fresh-from-the-shower Sean was on fire. Keri took her time brushing out her damp hair, enjoying the view of him in nothing but a towel.

It didn’t last long. The second he noticed her noticing him, he sprinted out of the bathroom. He must’ve practiced speed-dressing as part of SEAL training because, by the time she finished her hair a minute later, he was fully covered.

“You ready?” he wanted to know.

“Have you seen my purse? I swear, it was right over—”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re only going downstairs.”

“I thought you wanted to go to Tahoe for a cruise.”

“I did. Do. It’s…you know.” He stared at the stylized photo of the Vegas skyline on the wall like he was hopelessly lost and it was the only map around. “A sunset cruise.”

“Oh,” she said, even though he wasn’t making any sense.

“I thought we’d grab a quick bite. Maybe stop by the spa.”

“The
spa
?” Sean suggesting a cruise had been strange enough, and now
this
?

“What? Guys like massages, too. And, it turns out we get a $100 spa credit with the suite. I didn’t want it to go to waste.” He looked distinctly uncomfortable. But the vibe she was getting was more I’m-afraid-I-lost-my-man-card than I’m-counting-the-seconds-until-I-can-jump-off-a-cliff.

Maybe Sean really did like massages. That was possible.

“Give me a minute.” She wrinkled her forehead like she was deep in thought. “I’m trying to picture you on a massage table, being rubbed with scented oil, but the picture isn’t coming into focus.”

Total lie. She could see Sean’s bare chest in all its 3-D, high-definition glory.

She shoved the imaginary massage therapist out of the way because she had to touch—

“Smart ass. Come on, or we’ll miss our appointment.”

“Yeah. Okay.” She stumbled as she started forward, so focused on imaginary Sean’s perfect muscles that she hadn’t noticed the place where the heart-shaped area rug met the tile.

Sean steadied her with one hand on her arm, and heat zinged through her from the single point of contact.

She wanted to touch him—not just his skin, but his heart. She wanted to make him smile again. She needed to.

*

“Welcome to the Palais Hotel Spa! Marco and Mauricio will be your masseurs today. If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you ready.”

Sean followed the perky receptionist, tuning out her babble about sugar scrubs and aromatherapy baths so that he could focus on the layout.
Where are you, Bri?

According to Hardy, she was having some kind of mud facial. Sean needed to pinpoint her location, and then—

Something the receptionist was saying caught his attention. “Wait. Could you repeat that?”

“I said we’re almost there. Our couple’s treatment room is right down this hallway.”

Couple’s
treatment room?

The receptionist motioned for him and Keri to precede her around the corner, but Sean’s legs decided to stop working. He stopped short, in front of some kind of indoor fountain.

Water streamed over the fake rocks—a massive shrine to relaxation—but all the water features and aromatherapy in the world weren’t enough to block the realization that this sadistic woman in glitter shimmer eyeshadow was about to lock him in a tiny room next to his wife.
Wife!
Who was going to be completely naked. “I didn’t book a couple’s massage.”

“Oh, don’t worry sir. As a courtesy to our just-married couples, we waive the extra fee.”

“Oh. Well, that’s…”

“Unless you
want
to be separated. We do have another private room open. I can put your wife and Marco there.”

“No!” No way was Marco putting his hands on Keri without Sean’s supervision. “The couple’s room is fine.”

“Great!” The receptionist started forward again. This time he followed, catching sight of a door marked
facials
in the opposite direction.

At least he knew where Bri was. That was the important thing. He’d concentrate on his impending meeting with Bri, and he’d barely even know Keri was in the room with him.

“Here we are!” The receptionist opened a door, and Sean walked straight into his own personal hell.

The side-by-side tables were close enough for he and Keri to reach out and touch each other during their massages. The light was provided by a floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over a small Japanese-style garden. And there was a Jacuzzi tub perfectly sized for two.