“I’m happy, Kate. How else would I feel?”
Heavy silence hung between them.
He laughed, an uneasy sound. “Maybe I should be asking you how you feel about marrying me. Since that seems to be the burning question.”
He was smiling at her in that good-natured way of his, but there was a note of caution in his eyes. He was so handsome. Anyone with a heart would melt at the sight of those brown eyes and that careless brown hair that was just a little too long but looked sexy as hell on him. Anyone with a lick of sense would realize she was the luckiest woman in the world to have the love of a man like Aidan Quindlin.
But did he love her? Love had never come up in their conversations. And she couldn’t remember if either of them had mentioned it last night. Surely she would have remembered that?
Anyone who was less broken than she was would be making mad passionate love to that man right now and celebrating their marriage instead of sitting on the bed feeling sick to her stomach as she struck the first blows that would shatter this fragile new turn in their relationship.
“Aidan, we shouldn’t have done this.” Her eyes welled with the unshed tears she had been trying to hold back. “You deserve so much better than—” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“Better than what, Kate? How can it get better than being married to you?”
“You don’t love me, though.”
He flinched. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you’ve never said the words I love you, Kate.”
“They’re just words.”
“Yeah,” Kate said. “Four big words.”
“I guess I’m more of a believer in walking the walk rather than talking the talk.”
His voice had an edge now. He leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms over his flawless, bare chest. Kate hugged her knees even closer as she took in the sheer beauty of him, hating herself for ruining everything and trying to ignore the fact that he still hadn’t said he was in love with her, even after she went so far as to prod him.
She died a little inside, thinking about how needy she must seem.
Of all things, she hated to seem needy.
“Aidan, you deserve better than an alcohol-induced, spur-of-the-moment Vegas wedding.”
He frowned. “I wasn’t drunk. Were you drunk?”
“No. Umm... I only had a couple of sips of that horrid drink. But I don’t know, Aidan. Last night is a little fuzzy.”
He squinted her. “Are you telling me you don’t remember last night?”
Kate rubbed her eyes as if she could scrub away the gauzy veil that made everything hazy. “No, I do. Some of it, anyway. I just think we got caught up in the moment. I think we got carried away. And that drink they served didn’t help. I think it hit me hard, Aidan. What’s in a Love Potion Number Nine anyway?”
“For starters, nine shots of alcohol,” he said.
“What? Nine shots? No wonder I feel like death this morning,” she said. “That’s enough to give a person alcohol poisoning. I’m glad I only had a couple of sips. Since I don’t drink much, maybe it was enough to send me over the edge.”
She shivered at the vile memory.
Aidan slid an arm around her and pulled her closer. She nestled into the warmth of him, breathing in his scent—hints of his cologne mixed with sleep and a manly note that was uniquely him. For a fleeting moment, she wished they could stay just like that. Just the two of them, safe from the harsh realities of the outside world. They were so good when it was just the two of them like this. No pressures. No marriage licenses.
“I’ll go down to the lobby and get us some coffee. You probably need some water, too. You might be dehydrated. Water will make you feel better.”
Maybe so. But probably not. Can you pick up an annulment while you’re out?
Because it went a lot deeper than rehydrating. How could she feel better about something that should have never happened in the first place?
This was...permanent.
She braced her elbows on her knees and rested her head in her hands, covering her eyes, leaning away from him, shutting out the world. Aidan was such a good guy. He wasn’t a pushover, but he was honest and patient, almost to the point of being overindulgent with her, cutting her slack for her moods and whims. Because she wasn’t an easy person to love.
He was the steady force she so desperately needed for balance.
Maybe if she kept reminding herself of that, she could talk some sense into herself.
Look at how he was giving her a pass for freaking out over waking up married to him when he seemed so totally okay with it. That was a case in point for his goodness. He was even willing to go get her coffee and water, no doubt a subtle way to give her a chance to pull herself together. He would do that rather than get all bristly over the fact that she felt sick to her stomach rather than giddy with joy at realizing they were married.
“How can you not feel anything after drinking nine shots of liquor?” she asked, without raising her head. “I feel terrible. This is not how I envisioned the morning after my wedding would be. Actually, I never thought I’d get married, but here we are.”
He was rubbing her back and she felt him tense a little when she said that. She wished she had kept that last little tidbit about never getting married to herself. The same way she was swallowing the urge to say
