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Tomorrow, it seemed, I might have it.
I scanned the beach one last time and then returned into the suite and closed the doors, the sound of the ocean muted. I glanced toward the bedroom and contemplated returning to bed.
I was used to waking up alone. The few nights I had spent at Brant’s, he often got up during the night. Headed down to the basement to work or drove to the office. It didn't bother me; I wasn't someone who needed a full night's commitment to feel secure. But here, in this resort, with no work in sight, where was he? And why didn't he leave a note? The questions kept me from returning to bed.
Instead, I went into the closet. The hotel had fluffy cream robes and I pulled one over my silk pajamas, loosely tied the belt, and worked my feet into the matching slippers. I put both of our phones into the pockets with my room key and a handful of cash. Still smiling from the ring box discovery, I schooled the goofy grin away, then stepped out of the suite, tugging the door closed.
I went downstairs to find my future husband.
It didn't take long. It was a small resort—another issue that ensured we wouldn’t be returning. There just wasn't enough to do here, especially not for a man who got his kicks off on things that beeped and lit up.
Ten minutes after leaving the room, I walked into the place I should have started my search at—the hotel bar. Brant didn't really drink, certainly didn't seek out social mingling or groups of people. But, at almost 2 AM, it was one of the only places open inside the resort's gates. I walked into the large outdoor tiki hut, scanned the crowd, and saw him at the bar, his back to me, in a cluster of people I didn't recognize.
I smiled, relief washing through me. I didn't know what I expected, what the tight knot in my stomach had anticipated, but the tension eased at the sight of him. I made my way past the steel drum band and toward the bar, my pajamas out of place, a few women at small tables by the dance floor giving me snide looks that deserved a sharp word, but I continued forward. As I moved closer, I fished his phone out of my pocket and powered it on. I'd give him his phone, kiss him goodnight, then make my way back upstairs. I didn't need to stay down there; I wanted to go back to our bed, and he could call me if he got drunk and needed help finding his way back. I smiled at the absurd thought of a drunk Brant and moved closer.
A few steps away. Bodies moved aside, gave me a better view of him.
Closer. My slippers caught on the tile, and I tripped slightly. I caught myself, my face heating.
I heard the murmur of his voice and reached out. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I pulled gently.
He spun on the stool, glancing over his shoulder as he came full circle to face me.
In the next few minutes, everything about our relationship changed.
I had fallen for him. Planned our future, already mentally accepted his proposal.
It turned out I didn't even know him.
Chapter 20 - Brant
I’d intended to propose in Belize.
Cancelled that plan when the jet was nixed.
Reestablished that plan when Layana bullied us into commercial.
Then our trip had a hiccup; she got sick, and the moment never happened.
Tonight would be my second attempt. I shook a pill out, placed it under my tongue and tried to relax. Swigging ice water, I stared at the back wall of my office, a wall of windows offering a million-dollar view of the city.
Everything should be exact. Everything perfect. She deserved nothing less. This would be the moment that solidified our future. A story we would tell our children's children. She was already a loose cannon and will no doubt foil tonight's plans in some impulsive way, but everything is in place to minimize the impact. All that mattered, at the end of the night, is that I would have the ring and could articulate a question. The rest would sort itself out.
She would say yes. It was a given, one that was statistically certain. We loved each other. The bond between us was unquestionable. My personality had needed a quantitative analysis to make my decision, but she wouldn't need anything other than her emotions. The urges that made her throw her arms around me and kiss my neck. The grins I watched streak across her face. The smolder that burned in her eyes when we made eye contact across a crowded room.
She was committed. We were in love. Marriage was the next step to forever. I pocketed the ring and checked the clock, reaffirming that I was on schedule.
Three hours to forever.
* * *
Two hours to forever. I watched her fasten her earrings, the stance before the mirror one of casual elegance, yet sexual all the same. Slightly spread legs, her hip cocked, head tilted, all of her curves present before me. I settled in behind her and our eyes met in the mirror as I pulled her an inch back, the press of her fitting into me perfectly.
She was nervous. There was a darkness in her eyes, a tremor in her hand as she pushed the diamond stud through her earlobe. Something was off—from the deep inhale of her breath to the smile she gave me. It's not the false front she served out to others, but it wasn't the smile I knew. It was a distracted mix of the two. Something was on her mind. Something in her eyes that she didn't seem ready to talk about. I bent forward, inhaled the sweet scent of her as I placed a kiss on her collarbone. "Would you rather stay in? We don't have to go out." It was a question that could ruin tonight's plans, but I didn't want a reluctant companion. Not tonight, at the official start of our life together as one.
Another smile that was off. “No, we should go. I want to." Her breathing was quicker than usual. Maybe I should pull her into the bedroom. Slide up her dress and connect with her. Lose both of our senses in the hard press of our bodies. Reassure myself that she is mine and she is happy.
Instead, I held open her coat, letting it fall over her shoulders and opened the front door for my future wife. Suddenly, everything I knew felt up in the air.
