His Plus One by Kate Aster
Chapter 18
- GRAYDON -
To me, weddings usually feel like the seventh circle of hell.
But, while I’d never admit it to my brothers, this one feels like anything but.
Most of the credit goes to the woman in my arms. The DJ has called the last dance before we’re going to be whisked back to the ship, and I’m seizing my final opportunity of the morning to hold her this close.
The fabric of her blue dress is some kind of silk blend that feels amazing against my fingertips and lets the warmth of her body pass straight through to mine.
It’s just become my favorite thing she owns.
After the last dance ends, we all go out to the street where a stretch limo waits to take my brother and freshly minted sister-in-law back to the ship.
Behind it, a few small, airport-style vans are lined up to take us guests so that we won’t literally miss the boat when it leaves port at two.
Juggling a stack of wedding gifts in my arms—a hell of a feat after drinking too much bourbon with my brothers—I frown at Carson as we load one of the vans with wedding gifts. There aren’t too many to load since most people sent their gifts early. “So Mason and Freya get the stretch limo and we have to ride in one of these?”
“At least they’re air conditioned,” Carson laughs. “Hey, mind if we stash these gifts in your suite? I’m betting you have more extra space than in the cabin Natasha and I have.”
“Sure.”
We exit the van just in time to see my brother kiss his bride again, posing in front of the limo for Max.
When I see that smile on his face, I can’t help thinking of the vow he wrote himself, words that seem so unlike him. “You have my respect, my admiration, my commitment, my protection, my friendship, and my eternal love,” he had said, and I see it in his eyes now as he looks at his bride.
A week ago, I would have slapped him on the back with a laugh and asked him who he hired on Fiverr to write him such tripe.
But now, as Hailey reaches out her hand to me again, I get it.
In the SEALs, we learn that we’re only as strong as the person standing with us on our right and our left.
Yet suddenly I’m thinking about the team I want by my side for those moments when I’m not reeking of gunpowder or carrying an M240.
When Freya does the customary bouquet toss, half the dates of the other SEALs here dive for that bouquet like their lives are depending on it. But Natasha plucks it from the sky as though it was meant for her.
I should feel relief that Hailey didn’t catch it. That’s how I’d ordinarily feel about a date at a wedding.
But this time… I wouldn’t have minded.
I struggle to remind myself how the last thing I wanted out of this trip was for some woman to get any romantic ideas planted into her head, thinking she’s fallen in love with me just because we’re on a wedding cruise, surrounded by all the things that my new sister-in-law probably wrote about in that book she keeps telling me to read. I even remember saying that at our lunch table a couple weeks ago.
I never considered that I might be the one to fall in love.
I glance at Hailey. But apparently, I have.
Holy crap.
Before climbing into his limo, Mason gives me one of our customary half-hugs, followed by one for the rest of my brothers. “Thanks for coming out into the middle of the ocean for this.”
“Our pleasure. And if he ever misbehaves, he’ll have the three of us to deal with,” I direct to Freya, sounding like the overprotective brother-in-law I seem to be.
She laughs, giving me a hug. “I’ll keep that in mind. Oh, and we’ve got something waiting for each of you in your cabin. Just a little something to thank you for being a part of this. It means so much that all of you were able to come.”
“That wasn’t necessary,” I say, now draping my arm over Hailey again, envisioning whatever thank-you gift my brother might have had a hand in giving us. Knowing his third-grade sense of humor it’s probably a whoopee cushion personalized with their names and wedding date, to match the tote bag we got for the scavenger hunt.
Just what I needed.
After they leave, a married couple at last, the rest of us climb into the vans. Hailey and I share one with my parents and my brothers and their fiancées.
“Why do I feel like we’ll be uncles before too long?” Carson ponders as we head down the winding road, echoing my thoughts.
My mom jubilantly claps her hands. “Oh, don’t say that! You’ll get me too hopeful and I don’t want to be that kind of mother-in-law.”
I chuckle. Oh, but she will be that kind of mother-in-law. I know it.
Hailey rests her head on my shoulder as we look out the window, enjoying the sight of the pastel-colored houses perched up in the hills, all with spectacular views of the ocean. It makes me think of that second cruise we talked about. Maybe I’ll see if she wants to pay a visit to the cruise planning desk on the Lido deck after she’s done with the spa.
As soon as we’re back on the ship, Natasha and Max whisk Hailey away from my side as they head to the spa.
Carson and I head for the elevator, each of us balancing the two stacks of gifts until we arrive at my suite. “Prepare to get jealous,” I warn him. “I hear it’s twice the size of your cabin.”
“Always trying to outdo us, baby brother,” he mutters as I open the door. “Holy crap,” he says, stepping in. “This is an owner’s suite? You should have hosted the reception in here. Freaking huge.”
I chuckle at his predictable response, then spot a massive bouquet of at least two dozen roses on the counter.
“Roses?” I laugh, everything a lot more amusing after a morning in the sun and some bourbon in my veins. “Either I’m betting the ship’s florist screwed up the order for that gift Freya mentioned, or she’s secretly in love with me.”
Carson grins, shaking his head. “Damn, hope they made the same mistake in our room because Natasha loves roses.”
I slide the small card embedded in the bouquet from the envelope and read it:
“I was your first. Let me be your last. Call me. -Stephen”
“What the hell?” My face screws up, looking at it.
“What?” Carson snatches the card from me and reads it. “Oh, shit. These aren’t for you.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
Passing me back the card, he looks around the room and, through the bedroom door, spots a wrapped gift box resting on the nightstand. “And I’m betting that’s from Freya and Mason.”
I should put the card back in the envelope right now. It wasn’t meant for my eyes. And certainly not for my brother’s.
But it was sent to my suite—a suite reserved in my name.
The nerve of that son of a bitch.
I read the card again. I was your first. Let me be your last.
“Who the hell writes an ex-girlfriend something like this?” I ask, even though I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
“I hate to say it, but it sounds creepy as hell. Is he the stalker type?”
I shrug.
“Well, you might want to find out. You don’t want her dealing with that on her own.”
My eyes narrow on the card again as I look at the words. “He’s either trying to be poetic or vaguely threatening. Let me be your last. It’s—”
“Morbid,” he finishes for me. “But the words worry me less than the idea that he’d actually send roses to her when she’s on a cruise with someone else. That’s genuinely fucked up. Obviously, he wants her back.”
“Well, he can’t have her.” I sound like a little kid who’s been asked to give up his favorite football.
“Of course. A lot of exes get that way, though. They don’t mind breaking things off with a woman. But when some new guy comes along, they’re pissed as hell.”
“You sound like you know this from experience.”
His hand slices through the air, way too casually for my dark mood. “Oh, yeah. Natasha’s ex had the gall to show up at our doorstep right after we moved in together. I think he saw the engagement announcement her mom published in the local paper or something.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. But I took care of it. We haven’t heard from him since.”
“Took care of it? I’m sure you obeyed the rules of engagement when you took care of it.”
His eyes widen innocently. “Of course. Though when he tripped over our threshold, his face fell into my fist a little.” He shakes it off. “Look, don’t let it ruin the rest of your cruise. Are you going to go to the bourbon tasting they’ve got on deck nine after the ship leaves port?” He shifts topics a little too easily.
I’m sure he wouldn’t be shifting topics so easily if the roses had been meant for Natasha.
When I just look at him, speechless, he thumps me on my shoulder and says, “Or maybe you got enough at the wedding. That bourbon they were serving at the reception was better than anything I’ve got in my cabinet back home.”
I’m not even sure what I answered. Or whether I answered. I can barely even recall my brother walking out the door.
Let me be your last.
I can’t get past the disturbing tone of that. Just a little too desperate to be safe for her to deal with alone.
Lord knows I can think of a dozen ways to make this day that bastard’s last, given the opportunity.
I find myself reaching into my pocket for my phone and tapping on the browser. And I see it—that same website that Mason pulled up on my phone a couple days ago. Stephen’s photo grins at me from my phone with that cocky kind of smile that comes with having just made a killing on the sale of an app.
And he’s even got a slick DC office now. How nice for him.
Call me, his card read.
Call me.
Don’t fucking tempt me.
I picture him in his office. It’s a Thursday morning so he’s probably plunked himself down at some brand-new desk and is sipping one of those six-dollar coffee drinks as he ponders his latest app idea. Or maybe he’s thinking about his next move to win Hailey back after six years of using her.
I hate this guy. Always have.
But right now? With one too many shots of bourbon still simmering in my veins from the reception, I find myself tapping on the phone number and making use of the strong cell signal we won’t have after our ship leaves the port.
It’s now or never.
“Lillenquist Enterprises,” some female voice chirps. Bastard even has a receptionist now.
“Is Stephen there?”
“Who’s calling please?”
“Tell him it’s the person who just got his two dozen roses.”
I’m vaguely stunned when she puts me through.
“Hailey?” His voice is almost a surprise to me. He doesn’t sound quite as menacing as he should for a guy who managed to make a hardened SEAL’s blood pressure spike.
He almost doesn’t even sound worth my phone call.
“No. It’s Graydon, you asshole. And before you go into stalker-mode on her, I thought I should introduce myself.”
There’s a pause. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
“Fine. I’ve got plenty to fill the air. After six years of letting her support you, you dumped her, and now that she’s found a much-improved replacement, you have the gall to want her back?”
“What’s between Hailey and me isn’t your business.”
“It became my business when you sent roses to our suite,” I say, even though I feel like it became my business a long time before that. “Let me make this crystal clear to you. I’m not stepping aside so that you can grovel. So, two things are going to happen here. Number one, you’re leaving Hailey alone. If she wants you back, she’ll come to you. Not the other way around.”
“Why do you think I’d listen to you?”
I laugh, low and menacing. “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer. And the second thing that’s going to come out of this conversation is that you’re giving Hailey back her dog. I’m tired of watching you use a dog you don’t really give a damn about to manipulate your way into Hailey’s life. That game’s over.”
“Why would I agree to that? She’s my dog too.”
“That’s your choice. But I’ll be taking Hailey away every chance I get this summer so you can spend more of your time dog sitting rather than putzing around on that little boat of yours.”
“It’s not a little boat.”
“I’m a Navy SEAL. Believe me when I say it’s a little boat. Now put on your big boy pants and move on with your life, just like you made her do six months ago.”
I tap the display, ending the call. And I enjoy the sense of accomplishment that comes with telling an asshole exactly where he stands.
I enjoy it… for all of fifteen seconds until I set my phone down on the counter and stare at it blankly for a moment.
Oh, shit.
Maybe I should have run this by Hailey first.
Damn bourbon.