One Night Bride by Marika Ray
26
Remington
“Long way to come just to tell me you want a divorce.”
Esme’s voice startled me. I spun around and saw her standing there on the dock, her gorgeous legs wide apart, standing her ground. I drank in the sight of her like a starving man, despite her being here way too early. My plan wasn’t quite ready. That long black hair, her creamy skin, even the way she frowned at me was a sight for sore eyes.
“What?” Inwardly, I cringed. I came all this way and put all this effort into a grand gesture to win her back, and all I could sputter was “what?”
She wiggled a yellow envelope I just now noticed she held in her hand, not coming any closer. I really wished she’d come closer so I could breathe her in. See the little freckle on her right cheekbone I kissed every morning when she thought I was kissing her cheek like a gentleman.
“If you were just going to have me served with papers, why did you come all the way out here?”
My face went numb and my stomach took a dive. Oh, shit. The lawyer. The divorce. How could I have missed that tiny detail? Fuck me, they’d already served her with divorce papers?
I looked up at the sky and begged for a lucky break for once when it came to this woman. My hands rubbed out the ache in the back of my neck. I swallowed hard and doubled down on why I was here. My apology needed to be damn good now.
I dropped my hands and walked closer to her. “I’m so sorry, Esme. You shouldn’t have gotten those. I was so caught up in getting down here to see you, I forgot I’d called my lawyer last week when I went home.”
She tilted her head to the side, her eyes so guarded it tugged on my chest. “Do you or do you not want a divorce?”
I shook my head. “God, no, woman. I came down here to try to win you back, not push you away again. But clearly I already fucked it up.”
“All done, boss!” came a shout from the boat tied up two slips over.
I put a hand in the air and waved the guy off. He’d been hired on short notice to clean the boat and string white lights across the deck, to remind Esme of my first proposal. Or second if whatever I said in Tahoe while inebriated counted. So, that would make tonight the third proposal. Jesus, I’d made a mess of things right from the start.
Esme bit her lip and stared at me for a long moment. “You’re not here to get a divorce?”
I took another step so we were eye to eye. I grabbed the envelope out of her hands and heaved it into the water, not taking my eyes off her for a second.
“Remy!” she gasped, jaw dropping open as she watched the papers sink to the bottom of the ocean where they belonged.
I fucking loved it when she said my name like that. Usually it was when we had fewer clothes on, but I’d take this one too. I couldn’t stop myself. I had to touch her. One hand cupped her face, turning her back to me.
“I planned a whole date so I could apologize. It’ll be super private where no one can take our picture. The date won’t be leaked online, I promise. Will you go on the boat with me?”
Her eyelashes fluttered, and I held my breath. “Remy,” she whispered.
I leaned in and kissed her freckle, then her nose, hovering right over her mouth. “Just say yes.”
Her eyes fluttered closed. “Only if you let me talk first.”
“Done.”
And then my lips were on hers, silently promising that I’d never leave again, never start a fight and walk off, never file for divorce, or give her reason to be ashamed of us. I’d give her anything and everything.
She was the first to break away and I grit my teeth to keep from reaching for her again. Talking first was a good idea. She let me hold her hand as we walked down the dock to the boat. I helped her aboard and got her seated while I cranked the engine over. Rip had been right. This boat was older than Jesus, but she still worked and it served my purposes of getting Esme alone. Once we were somewhere in the Pacific with only a faint outline of shore way off in the distance, I cut the engine and let us float. I hopped down from the helm and sat across the tiny table from her. The sun was about to sink into the ocean and I wanted to see her beauty during that golden hour light.
“Remy,” she started, reaching across the table to hold my hand. “I appreciate you going to all this trouble, but you didn’t need to. I don’t care if someone sees us or takes our picture or even posts it online.”
I frowned, not following. That scenario was literally what led to her freaking out last week. “You’re not concerned?”
She shook her head and smiled, looking less stressed than I’d ever seen her. Her eyes seemed a little puffier than normal, but other than that, she radiated peace.
Her thumb stroked across mine, over and over, her gaze following the motion. “When you left, I kind of fell apart.”
“I’m sorry for walking away,” I interjected, hating to see her hurting.
She squeezed my hand. “Let me get this out, okay?”
At my nod, she continued. “I realized I’d let public opinion dictate my life. And then Amelia went into labor and I watched a miracle happen right in front of my eyes. I saw the way she and Titus looked at each other with this little person they’d made because of their love.” Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked hard to clear them. “I just knew I’d made the worst mistake of my life.”
She sniffed and let out a watery laugh. “I actually haven’t worked all week for the first time since I can remember. I haven’t gone online either.”
I gasped, trying to lighten the mood, making her smile. “I know, I know. But I say all that to show you that I’m making some changes. I refuse to let work and faceless followers dictate my life. They should enhance my life, not take from it. I had it all backward, but not anymore.”
I put my other hand on top of hers, squeezing tight. “I’m proud of you.”
She dipped her head. “Actually, that’s not quite true. I went online right before I got on the plane.” Her gaze swung up to mine and hung there, vulnerability in the way she told me everything. “I posted a video explaining how we met, what happened after, and why I was taking a social media break. Do you want to watch it?”
If it was important to her, it was important to me. “Absolutely.”
She pulled her hands away and got her phone out of her back pocket. I stood up and swung around the table to sit next to her on the small padded bench. I took a deep inhale and savored the scent of her. She hit play, and I took the opportunity to lean in closer.
Her gorgeous face filled the screen and even with her makeup done perfectly like usual, I could see the red around the rim of her eyes. She outlined how we’d met, the drunken wedding, me finding her, and then us spending time together.
So that’s the story. I fell in love with him and I want more than anything to stay married to him. He challenges me, helps me with work, has his own passions we discuss every night, and he loves me better than I ever dreamed of finding in a man. I hope you give him a chance, and even if you don’t, that’s okay too. I’ve seen some comments that say having a husband doesn’t fit my brand. But you need to understand that my brand is more than a logo or a video that went viral four years ago. My brand is me. And I’m just a woman, looking at her cowboy and asking him to love her. Remington, if you see this, I hope you can forgive me for not putting you first. I won’t make that mistake again. I love you.
The video shut off, and the screen went dark. I sat there, stunned. Overwhelmed. Feeling not quite worthy of a courageous woman like her. I’d come here to offer up whatever it took to keep her. I’d give up the nonprofit. Turn my back on the ranch. Whatever she needed me to do, I would do it. And she’d already given everything up for me.
“Esme,” I managed to mutter.
She tapped the phone against the table repeatedly. “I know what I did was unforgivable, but I’d very much like you to consider giving me another chance.”
“Esme,” I said again, this time putting my finger against her lips to stop her. “It wasn’t unforgivable. I’d already forgiven you before I knew you posted that video. That’s why I’m here. I want to make things right with you. I want to stay married. However that looks. I’m all in.”
The tapping stopped. Under my finger, her lips smooshed into a wide smile. She held something up between us. “So can I wear this again?”
My heart soared up into the clouds, seeing that she’d brought the ring with her, hopefully with the intention to wear it again, not to throw it at me. I removed my finger from her mouth to take the sparkling engagement ring from her. I held it to her left hand. “May I have the honors?”
“Yes, please.”
The sun dipped below the level of the ocean and the sky turned the kind of pink you can’t describe with words. I slid the ring on her finger and everything in my chest locked into place. Every plan, every worry, every missing piece slid into position and I knew without a doubt Esme and I would have a long and bright future as husband and wife. Two hyper focused entrepreneurs don’t come together without some choppy waters, but I knew we’d weather the storm.
With eyes and hearts wide open, we came together again for a kiss that soothed the hurt and mended the heartache. Lights flickered on all around us, startling us apart. Esme gaped at the dozens of light strands overhead I’d had that guy put up for me. I smiled and silently vowed to keep surprising her until her aging heart couldn’t take it any longer.
Esme rounded on me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me like she was making up for lost time. Then she pulled away and giggled.
“Take a selfie with me?” She held her phone up, facing us.
Smiling for the camera, we both looked like the happiest people in Hell when she clicked the shutter. The lights twinkled in the backdrop, making for a shot that seemed far more magical than finding your wife at a bar in Tahoe.
“Can I post it?” she asked shyly.
“Fuck yeah, you can post it. Shout it from the rooftops. I want everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours.”
She leaned in to kiss me before sitting back and typing out a caption. “No more hiding. Ever.” She put the phone down with a flourish. “There! Now everyone who wants to know our business knows we’re back together and stronger than ever.”
I reached over and picked her up, settling her on my lap so her legs were straddling me. I needed to be closer to her. I needed to feel her and reassure myself she wasn’t going anywhere. She ran her hands through my hair and I think I found heaven.
“My mom and dad are totally going to want a real wedding or at least a reception,” she whispered as she kissed her way around my jaw.
I cupped her face, holding her steady. “I want a real wedding too. I want to see you in a ridiculous white dress, in front of all our friends and family. I want that moment when I see you walk down the aisle on your daddy’s arm.”
She grinned, eyes already watering at the thought. “Are you going to cry when you see me?”
I laid on the twang. “Ain’t you ever seen a cowboy cry before?”
Esme giggled like I knew she would.
Then she sat straight up. “Oh. You might want to stay away from Dad for a while.”
“Why? What did you tell him?”
She winced and my gut tightened. “Just be glad Oakley got him to give up the plan to put an APB out on your head.”
Jesus. What a fucking mess. “Sounds like your dad and my dad would get along just fine.”