Page 8 of Mister Wrong


  Cora had never been particularly fond of the water. That had a lot to do with her learning to swim late in life. It seemed strange to me that, of all the things she could be doing right now, she was here, mustering up her courage as she took a few more steps into the water.

  I had no idea if she’d already checked into a new room or why she was hanging at the beach when Jacob was hours away from descending on us both, but I didn’t care. She was here. That was enough for me.

  As I cut through the circus of beach towels and chairs, I couldn’t help the smile I felt tugging at my mouth. She was trying to be so brave—I could tell from the way she was working her lip and almost looking as if she was staring down the ocean in front of her, like it was her nemesis. I also might have been smiling due to the way she looked in that bikini. Cora had a woman’s body, curves instead of hard edges, and was more soft than she was firm. I loved that about her. I loved that she didn’t feel the need to cover or disguise or diet her way down to fit into the size two clothes Jacob frequently bought her as a not-so-subtle hint.

  Seeing her standing there in nothing more than a couple of scraps of fabric made my body ache as I remembered the way she’d felt against me. The way her skin felt sliding across my palm. The way her chest felt spilling against mine as I moved inside her. The way her lips felt moving down my throat.

  And, great. Nothing like sporting a hard-on at a beach packed with people. Thankfully, no one seemed to be paying any special attention to the one person in pants and a button-down shirt instead of swimwear. I didn’t miss the way plenty of people were noticing her though. I also didn’t miss the way I wanted to crush their skulls from the looks they were giving her.

  Shit. Talk about possessive. With a side of sick and twisted violent inclinations.

  “Having one of those deep conversations with the Atlantic?”

  She didn’t flinch when she heard me behind her. She didn’t even look surprised to see me there. “Less of a conversation and more of me trying to convince it I’m not terrified.”

  “How’s that working out?”

  Cora lifted the hand clutching a snorkel. It was trembling. “Not so great.”

  “Then why are you doing it?” I stepped into the water beside her after kicking off my shoes, not bothering to take the time to roll my pants up.

  “Because I’m tired of being scared. I’m tired of feeling like I’m living my life based on fear, instead of standing from a point of strength.” She sounded tired. She even looked tired. Neither of us had gotten much sleep last night, but this was a different kind of exhaustion. The kind that had been building for what looked like years.

  “I heard you checked yourself into the hotel?” I matched her step when she journeyed farther into the water.

  She nodded but didn’t offer any kind of explanation. Not that she needed to. I knew why she had.

  “Jacob’s going to be here this afternoon. His flight arrives at 3:20.” I watched her for a sign of any reaction, but all she did was acknowledge me with another nod, her eyes still focused on the vast body of water in front of us. “I need to know what you’re planning on telling him. I’m behind you, whatever you decide, but I need to know because if he finds me first, I need to make sure our stories align.” When her silence stretched on, I wound my hand around her wrist and angled myself slightly in front of her. “What do you want?”

  Her eyes drifted to mine, the look in them making my throat tighten. She looked as lost as I’d ever seen a person, maybe even more lost than I felt at the present moment. Her throat moved when she swallowed. “I don’t know, Matt. I don’t know.”

  Her eyes looked like they were about to fill with tears, so I did what came naturally and wound my arms around her and tucked her close to me. She came into my embrace like it was exactly what she’d been waiting for, her head falling against my chest. Her back quaked a few times from what I guessed were stifled sobs, and we stood there just like that for a few minutes.

  “It’s going to be okay. I promise,” I whispered, because it would be okay. I’d make sure it would be, even if I had to tell a million lies and sell my soul to keep that vow.

  She nodded against my chest, almost like she believed me, but she didn’t hurry to lean back or pull away. She seemed perfectly content to stay folded in my arms, standing knee-deep in the still ocean. I didn’t realize it at first, but her body had stopped trembling in fear.

  “What are you really doing?” I said.

  “Trying to snorkel. Or at least working up the courage to try to snorkel.”

  “But you’re scared of the water.”

  “And I’m tired of being scared of it. I told myself I was going to snorkel on my honeymoon, and I’m going to snorkel. I’ve always wanted to, and people do it everyday and live to tell the tale.” She sniffed and leaned back, a brave expression plastered on her face.

  “Plus, you’re a strong swimmer. When you actually get in the water to swim.”

  The heaviness started to drain from her eyes. “Well, I did learn from the best.”

  I shrugged. “The very best.”

  She laughed, which made me wonder if she was thinking of the same memory I was. The first time I’d taken her to the country club pool when she was thirteen so I could give her her first swim lesson. I’d been on the swim team for years, so I thought I could teach her a thing or two. Except I forgot to account for how I felt whenever Cora was in a swimsuit. Especially when we were both in the water and I was trying to teach her how to back float, which meant touching, which meant my brain pretty much went into power-down mode.

  “You told me it would only take a few lessons to teach me how to swim,” she said, still laughing. “And it took a whole year of weekly lessons before I could finally make it a full lap without stopping.”

  I rubbed at the back of my head. “Practice makes perfect, right?”

  “I don’t know about perfect, but I’ve definitely had plenty of practice.” She backed out of the water so she could sit on the sand and put on her fins. I guessed she was ready. “I can’t believe you actually took the time once every week until we graduated to get in the water with me so I ‘wouldn’t forget what I’d learned.’”

  I shifted so I was blocking the sun from her face. “I might have had ulterior motives for our weekly swim.”

  Her eyebrow lifted. “Pissing Jacob off?”

  I shook my head, although those swim lessons had definitely pissed him off plenty.

  She caught me staring at her and adjusted her top. “So you could see me in my swimsuit?”

  I shook my head again, but I definitely hadn’t minded seeing her in her swimsuit every week. I’d had to beat her into the water every time to try to disguise my “reaction” to seeing her in her swimsuit. And ten years later, same damn story, I thought as I slid my hand into my pocket.

  “Because you were a good guy?” she said next.

  Another head shake, because I wasn’t a good guy. I was a far cry from that. “Because I wanted to be with you.”

  My answer took her a second to absorb. “In a chilly pool that you had to remind me how to do egg-beaters in every single week?”

  I moved closer so my feet were between hers. “In the depths of hell roasting on a spit if it meant getting to be close to you.”

  Her chest stopped lifting with her breath, like I’d taken her by surprise. Which didn’t make sense to me. Didn’t she get it? Didn’t she understand? Had I not been clear in my feelings for her?

  Her breath returned, this time making her chest move extra fast. She was looking around like she was hoping for a distraction. “Will you go with me?”

  “Yes,” I answered, not knowing where or to do what, just knowing my answer was always yes where Cora was concerned.

  Her shoulders seemed to sag with relief. “You can check out a mask and fins over there.” She pointed at a bright white shed tucked back on the edge of the beach.

  My fingers pinched the material of my slacks. “I don’t
have a swimsuit. I’ll have to go back to the cabin first.”

  Her head shook as she scanned the beach. “I need to go now or else I’ll chicken out.” Her eyes widened on something before she pointed down the beach again. “There. You can just buy one and change into it.”

  My gaze followed the direction she was pointing in, and my mouth fell into a frown. A vendor was carrying what looked like an umbrella lined with an endless supply of bright colors and wild prints. “Those are women’s swimsuits.”

  From the corner of my eyes, I noticed her shake her head. “They’re men’s swimsuits.” She was already waving over the vendor. “European-cut men’s swimsuits.”

  “Banana hammocks.” My hand thrust in the direction of the “swimwear” swishing toward us. “You’re suggesting I put on a banana hammock and strut around on a beach filled with children and old women?”

  The vendor was already lowering the curtain hanging around his mobile umbrella shop. The privacy seemed kind of ironic, since I’d be emerging from said changing room dressed in a swimsuit that was basically Lycra dental floss.

  Cora shrugged like the answer was obvious.

  “Why do you think I’m going to do this?”

  She smiled at me, her light eyes finding mine. “Because you get to be with me?”

  He really would do anything to be with me. He actually meant it.

  When I’d suggested the Speedo store on wheels, I hadn’t actually expected him to go for it. I’d expected him to head back to the cabin, change into his swim trunks, then meet me back here. He hadn’t though. He was behind that circular curtain now, stripping down and actually putting on one of those things.

  I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was saying things, doing things that seemed totally out-of-character. Matt had been so stand-offish and distant with me for so long, but he’d been the opposite over the past two days. He’d been the Matt I remembered falling for as a young girl, instead of the Matt I’d come to know ever since Jacob and I got together.

  God, Jacob. He was coming. I could ignore his calls and try to pretend he wouldn’t be here this afternoon, but that didn’t change that he would be standing in front of me today, asking some hard questions. I should have been focusing on what I was going to say to him. I should have been barred inside the room I’d just checked into and crying myself senseless over the mess I’d found myself in. I should have been trying to drown Matt for what he’d done and how he’d deceived me, instead of asking him to go snorkeling with me like this was our honeymoon.

  I was such a wreck, such a ball of confusion, and I didn’t know what to think or do. My head was pulling me in one direction, and my gut was pulling me in the other. I couldn’t have both, I’d always known that, but now, I wasn’t even sure if I was entitled to one of them.

  Because I might not have known I was making love to Matt last night, but that certainly hadn’t stopped me from wishing it would happen again. How could I look Jacob in the eye ever again after being with his brother last night? How could I look Matt in the eye ever again after being with his brother for years?

  It was an impossible situation, so I did the only thing I could and shut it out. I ignored it, knowing it wouldn’t go away, but I was content to set it aside temporarily.

  “Did you pick one yet?” Matt hollered from the mobile changing room.

  “I thought you did.” I stood and dusted the sand off my backside, trying not to stare at Matt’s slacks that had just fallen around his ankles.

  “I’m going to leave that honor up to you. I want it on record that I had no say in any of this when it comes back to bite me in the ass.”

  I shifted through a few selections hanging from the top of the umbrella. I still couldn’t believe he was actually doing this.

  “Do you have anything against animal print?” I winked at the vendor when I came across a flashy python print.

  “I have a thing against dressing like a male stripper in public.”

  “So you’re saying you’re a fan of animal print?” I’d already unclipped the python one from the ring.

  “Just give me the damn thing already? I’m standing here naked, and if a strong breeze comes along, I’m about to give the whole beach a free show.”

  I tossed my selection over the top of the curtain while he kicked his wallet out at my feet.

  “You’re evil,” he said, followed by a drawn-out groan. “I’m not wearing this.”

  “Too late. Already paid for.” I handed the twenty to the vendor, who pocketed it so quickly it was like he was worried we’d change our minds.

  “Not doing it.”

  “Stop being a baby, Matt. It’s just a swimsuit.”

  He huffed over the swimsuit part. “All I need is a shaver and some body oil and I could star in some low-budget porn.”

  That made me laugh, which made him laugh.

  “Come on. Pick me out something else. A solid or something less . . . snaky.”

  “You asked me to pick, and that’s what I picked. ‘No returns, refunds, or exchanges,’” I said, pretending I was reading some sign hanging off the vendor’s money apron.

  “The only way I’m putting this thing on is if someone holds me down and forces me into it. No way am I tugging this thing on of my own volition.”

  My eyes lifted, and before I knew what I was doing, I was slipping through the curtain. Matt looked as surprised by me as I was by him. I’d forgotten that he was naked. Fully. The same fully naked way he’d been last night when he’d done things to me I’d never had done before.

  The same things I was thinking about right now, which was making my body respond in ways that were not family-beach appropriate.

  I had to clear my throat before I could say anything. “You were saying?”

  It was tight quarters in here, and Matt had no issue making them tighter as he stepped into me. His eyes darkened when he felt my chest brush against his, not missing the way my mouth parted from the way I was breathing.

  “The only way I’m wearing that is if you hold me down . . .” His mouth lowered so it was outside my ear. “And force me.”

  When his warm breath fogged across my neck, I shivered. He didn’t miss it, as confirmed by the way one corner of his mouth lifted. He’d barely touched me and my body was already responding. We were in some small mobile changing room on a packed beach, and I could feel my body making itself ready for him, like all he had to do was say the word and I’d do his every bidding.

  “So unless you have any reason for wanting to keep me in my birthday suit . . .” His gaze dropped to the sand, where the scrap of Lycra was waiting.

  “And here I’d been under the impression all these years you were the chivalrous type.”

  I felt his smile aimed at me as I kneeled. “A chivalrous man is not the same as a perfect man.”

  “Clearly,” I muttered, trying to focus on what I was doing instead of who I was doing it to, and how said person was bare-ass naked.

  Grabbing the python scrap of fabric, I held it by his feet and waited. I didn’t dare look up because I was worried it wouldn’t be his eyes I’d connect with. Not at this level. And then I didn’t trust what would happen next.

  Which was so inappropriate to think or fantasize about, given we were on a public beach and my real fiancé was en route as I kneeled in front of his naked twin, my swimsuit bottoms damp from something other than a morning swim.

  “This was a good idea,” Matt said, his tone amused. “A great idea,” he added as I pulled the scrap of fabric up over his knees.

  They were going to be tight, I discovered after having to practically wrestle them up his thighs. I’d almost tugged the python wonder into place when . . .

  “Oh my god, Matt!” I half-shrieked, but I didn’t even try to divert my eyes. If he didn’t have any shame over his “issue,” I wouldn’t have any over my staring issue.

  “I’m naked and standing in front of a beautiful woman while she dresses
me. And this isn’t supposed to turn me on how?”

  I didn’t miss the way his jaw ground when I finished yanking the swimsuit into place. Now that I was standing in front of him, he couldn’t look at me. I wondered why. He was trying to be playful and make it seem like this whole thing was a fun joke, but I could tell he was holding himself back. From saying something or doing something, I wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t half as relaxed and at ease as he was trying to convince me he was.

  When I glanced down, I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing. The swimsuit was impossibly small, hardly able to cover his package . . . especially when it was at full staff. The back was the same story. More of his ass hung out than was covered.

  “Looks like we should have gone with the extra-large for you,” I said at last, having to cover my mouth when a laugh wanted to follow. He looked ridiculous.

  Matt winked, his eyes lowering to his groin. “Glad you noticed.”

  Rolling my eyes, I gave him a shove before ducking out of the dressing area. I figured I’d give him a minute to gather his courage before stepping out in his special new swimsuit. I headed to the rental shack to check out another snorkel set. When the employee asked for Matt’s shoe size so he could get the right size fins, I realized I could immediately remember what size Matt’s feet were. I couldn’t remember Jacob’s the same way. It was there—size twelve compared to Matt’s size thirteen—but the knowledge wasn’t instant, burned into my memory like all things Matt were.

  Like the way he liked his toast practically burned to a crisp or how he tapped his left index finger whenever he’d been studying for a hard test or the way his arm would whip out in front of whoever was in the passenger seat when he was driving and had to slam the brakes. Matt was committed to my memory, the way a person recalled their birthday.

  By the time I’d made it back from the rental shack, Matt had emerged from the dressing room and was drawing no shortage of attention. The suit was insanely tight, but if anyone could wear a so-called banana hammock, Matt Adams was that person.