Chosen by a Stranger (Craved Series #5) (2 page)

BOOK: Chosen by a Stranger (Craved Series #5)
6.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Chapter
3: Jack

 

Her slightly parted lips were so full and gorgeous I wanted to
reach out and drag a finger across them.

 

But I didn't dare wake her up, not when her eyes were closed so softly
and her whole face looked so peaceful.

When I was finally able to tear my eyes away from her face, I
noticed her shoulder was sticking out of the covers. It looked shiny and smooth.
If I hadn’t touched it so many times now, I would've sworn it was made of silk.

And it was pretty overwhelming- the feeling of waking up in bed beside
her. I could feel a warm swell of pride filling my chest like a balloon, and
the fact that she was such good company even when she was asleep seemed unfair.

 

When I’d woken up next to women in the past, I usually found that
they appeared to be a slightly inferior version of the woman I believed I went
to bed with. Granted, the cheap Thai rum I drank most nights that happened
probably had something to do with it, but with Audrey, it was different.

 

She was every bit as beautiful and enchanting as she'd ever been,
if not more so. And I was pleased when I remembered the effort I put in to
showing her a good time the previous night.

 

When she woke up- hopefully feeling as rested and optimistic as I
did- I imagined how she might smile at me, knowing I was waiting for her
answer.

 

God how I wanted her to say yes. I knew it was all happening so
fast, that there were people who would say it was ridiculous that I'd proposed.
But how could I take things slow when she made my heart beat so fast?

 

And
the longer I watched her sleep, the surer I became.

She was the woman for me, and nothing excited me more than having
the opportunity to spend my days becoming a man worthy of her affection.

 

Because now that I'd seen that smile, now that I’d made her melt
in so many ways, I couldn't walk away.

 

And if she would just wake up and say, “yes, Jack. The answer is
yes, I will marry you,” then she'd make me the luckiest, happiest, richest man
on Earth.

 

When she finally woke, she didn't open her eyes right away.
Instead, she took a deep breath and stuck her legs straight out under her
before curling back up into a little ball.

 

A moment later, she opened her blue eyes and smiled. "How did
you sleep?"

"Good," I said. "You?"

 

"Fine," she said. "Once I got to sleep
anyway."

 

"Sorry if I kept you up-"

 

"Don't apologize," she said, her voice still quiet and
creaky. "I'm not sorry."

 

I reached my arm out and pulled the covers up to cover her
shoulder.

 

She sighed. "I had the craziest dream."

 

"Oh?" I asked, genuinely interested in hearing about
what someone else dreamt for the first time in my life.

 

"I had a dream you asked me something crazy."

 

"Go on."

 

"You asked me to marry you."

 

I smiled. "And what did you say?"

 

"I didn't answer you."

 

"Because you didn't think I could handle the good news-?"

 

"No," she said. "Because I didn't think-"

 

"What?"

 

"That you were serious."

 

"Audrey."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I've never been more serious about anything in my
life."

 

She pursed her lips.

 

"The obstacles that are in the way of us being together are
minor compared to how much I care about you."

 

"So you were serious?" she asked. "Because if you
wanted a take-back-"

 

"A take-back?"

 

"Yeah, like if you felt like it just slipped out because of
all the wine and the sex and the warmth from the tub making your brain pruney
then-"

 

"I don't want a take-back."

 

"Oh."
She looked down at the narrow space between us, her eyelids fluttering with her
thoughts.

I
see."

 

"I know it's soon," I said. "I know it's
unexpected."

 

"That's an understatement."

 

"But you know I like surprises."

 

She rolled her eyes. "More than anyone I've ever met."

 

I bent my elbow and rested my head in my hand.

 

"Everything you've done since you've arrived has been totally
unexpected."

 

"In a good way I hope?"

 

"You weren't planning on asking me to marry you when you came
here, were you?"

 

"Not strictly," I said. "I was mostly in a hurry to
figure out how serious my feelings for you were."

 

"And you figured them out that quickly?"

I shrugged. "What can I say? I guess I know what I
like."

 

"Well, once again your confidence is-"

 

"Refreshing?"

 

"I was going to say mind boggling, but sure."

 

"Look, I know you're probably thinking that I don't really mean
it because I didn't plan ahead, but trust me. If I wished I hadn't asked, I
would say so," I said. "I didn't come all this way just to screw
around."

 

"Could've fooled me."

 

I rolled my eyes. "You know what I mean. The point is, I know
you probably had more in mind for that moment. At the very least, you probably
expected that the man of your dreams would be clothed and on his knee and would
have a ring, and I do feel bad about that."

 

"Don't."

 

"Don't what?"

 

"Don't feel bad about that,” she said. “It was still sweet
how it happened."

"Oh, okay," I said, surprised all over again.
"Good." Though I disagreed. If any woman deserved something more
elaborate, it was Audrey for the simple reason that she didn’t expect it.

 

And no matter what she said, I was determined to make it up to
her, to do something more memorable. Something that would be a better story for
her to tell her friends than "after a day of epic sex, he asked me in
bed."

 

Then again, that sounded pretty good to me when I thought about
it. Still, she needed a ring… and a more traditional tale that we could tell
our friends and family someday… maybe even our kids.

 

But I was getting ahead of myself.

 

After all, so far, she'd said everything but yes.

Chapter
4: Audrey

 

I couldn't believe it.

 

He didn't want a take-back.

 

In fact, not only did he not want to withdraw his proposal, his
anxiousness for my answer was tangible.

 

I have to admit it was flattering.

 

And waking up next to him wasn't so bad either. His tanned face
looked positively delectable on my white pillow, and it wasn’t just my eyes
that recognized him either. My whole body reacted warmly, as if there wasn't an
inch of me that wasn't absolutely thrilled by his close proximity.

 

"Aren't you at all concerned about the fact that we just
met?" I asked.

 

He furrowed his brow. "I wouldn't say concerned."

 

"What would you say then?"

 

"I would say I'm a little excitable."

 

I laughed. "So excited that you think we should jump into
something so serious?" I mean, I knew a marriage proposal wasn't some kind
of irreversible thing. Shit, these days even marriages themselves could be
dissolved as easily as a signature, assuming there were no children involved.

 

Speaking of which, I didn't even know if he wanted kids. It was
just one more thing we hadn't discussed on the list of things couples should
definitely talk about before marriage.

 

And we weren't even a couple! Neither of us had ever left a single
belonging of ours at the other person's place. Not a toothbrush, not a pair of
underwear, not even some spare change. The whole thing seemed crazier the more
I thought about it.

 

Then again, maybe it was ridiculous to think that just because
regular relationships tended to follow predictable conventions that they all
should. After all, it’s not like following convention was a reliable predictor
of relationship success. I knew lots of people that lived together before
marriage or fucked before the third date who seemed to be doing just fine.

 

Actually, it seemed to me that no one really had a clue about what
made some relationships work and others fail. And most of the people who
thought they had it all figured out were too annoying to listen to for more
than five seconds anyway… unless they were over sixty in which case their
advice was often as sweet as it was dated.

 

I mean, being told that communication is important by people
who've been married for fifty years is great and everything. I'm sure it's
fantastic advice. But I always want to ask those couples how they would've managed
in a world with sexting and Facebook and dating apps.

 

The point is, perhaps the problem with modern relationships isn’t
a lack of communication but the fact that there’s too damn much of it.

 

In which case maybe Jack was right. Maybe we should just skip all
the bullshit talking about our feelings and jump straight to the ultimate
status update.

But that didn't seem right either because the bullshit talking was
what made the vows real when you finally tied the knot, right? Wasn’t it those
late night chats that revealed over time who you were actually agreeing to
marry?

 

Plus, I’ve always been under the impression that it was important
to get thoroughly acquainted with someone else's crap before you decided
whether you wanted to build your life with them.

 

Sure, Jack and I had been having a good time together. I'd be
lying if I said I didn't enjoy every second of it. But I wasn't even ankle deep
in his issues.

 

He still seemed too good to be true and experience had led me to
believe that no one was really perfect- not even sexy, successful beach bums… perhaps
especially not them.

 

What’s more, a lot of people didn't take marriage that seriously.
After all, it was less permanent than a tattoo these days, and many
Californians collected them much the same way. I met men all the time that were
proud of how many women they'd convinced to marry them.

 

And that wasn't what I wanted for myself. I didn't want to be one
of many. I wanted to be The One period. And I didn't know enough about what
kind of guy Jack was to know if he felt the same way.

 

All I knew was that his parents lived on opposite sides of the
world and here he was falling for someone just as far away… or swearing he was
anyway.

 

But how could they be real? These feelings? This proposal? Sure,
it felt real enough as I lay in bed with him, his intense eyes fixed on mine. But
once he walked out of my apartment, how could I be sure any of this even
happened?

 

I didn't have a ring. I didn't even have his goddamn phone number?!

 

"Audrey?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Did you hear me?"

 

"No, sorry- I was- What?"

 

His face softened as he lowered his voice. "I was saying I
don't think we should jump into anything."

 

I pursed my lips.

"I know marriage is a big commitment, and despite how little
time I wasted asking you to be mine, please know that it's one I take very
seriously."

 

I nodded, feeling relieved to finally hear him echo some of my
concerns.

 

"I'm not suggesting we get married tomorrow." He slid
his arm over my bare hip and pulled me close. "I'm not even suggesting we
get married this year."

 

I scooted into the warm space around his body. "So what are
you suggesting?"

 

"I'm suggesting we take all the time we need to get to know
each other."

 

"During our engagement?"

 

"Yeah
.”

 

I swallowed. Was that even a thing? Did people even do that?

 

"I know it's not exactly traditional, but I'm hoping you
agree that tradition is overrated."

 

"I don't know," I said. "I mean, I don't think all
tradition is overrated."

 

"What are you saying?"

 

"I'm saying I don't even know your middle name?"

 

"It's Donal."

 

"Donald?"

 

"No. Well sort of. Donal is the Irish version."

 

"Oh."

 

"It was my Grandpa's name."

 

"I see."

 

"What's yours?"

 

"Cordelia."

 

"No it's not."

 

"What? You think it's that much crazier than Donal?"

 

"Yeah, I do," he said. "Was it your Grandma's or
something?"

 

"No. My Mom just really liked it, and my Dad refused to let
her make it my first name."

 

"I'd have to side with your Dad on that one."

 

"I suppose I would, too," I said, recalling how much I
hated it when I was little and everyone else’s middle name was Marie.

 

"Well I feel better, don't you?" Jack said, smiling.
"Now that we got that big mystery out of the way."

 

I rolled my eyes.

 

"What else would you like to know?" he said. "Ask
me anything?"

 

"Jack."

 

"Audrey Cordelia."

 

"Knowing your middle name doesn't change anything."

 

"Sure it does."

 

"No." I shook my head. "That's not the point I was
trying to make when I said I didn't know it."

 

"So what is the point?"

 

"The point is-" I sighed. "I can tell you want an
answer- a certain answer- to your question, and I can't give it to you right
now."

 

His face fell.

 

I waited for him to say something, and then I started to worry
he’d gone mute.

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because."

 

He shook his head. "Because isn't an answer, Audrey." He
scooted away from me. "I put myself out there, okay? I was upfront with
you about where I stand."

 

My lips fell apart.

 

"I think the least you can do is tell me why you don't think
I deserve an answer."

 

"Because I’m not done thinking about it," I said.
"Honestly, Jack, I'm not sure I've had a single clear thought since you
showed up yesterday and then you ask me to-"

 

"Are you saying you don't know what you want?"

 

"No. That's not what I'm saying. I want you. Of course I do.
I just don't think I'm ready to-"

 

"When?"

 

"When what?"

 

"When will you have an answer?" He sat up and the covers
fell down, revealing a rippling chest that made my guts ache.

 

"I don't know."

 

He clenched his jaw and looked straight ahead, exhaling through
his nose.

 

I sat up and put a hand on his back, lowering my voice. "It's
not a no, Jack."

 

He turned his head towards me. "But it's not a yes
either."

 

"It's not not a yes," I said. "It's just-"

 

"It's just what?"

 

"It's just that if I have to be pinned down right now, you
won't like my answer, and neither will I."

 

The pain in his eyes was so intense I felt my chest tighten around
my heart.

 

And in that moment, I hoped I hadn't made a terrible mistake.

Other books

A World at Arms by Gerhard L. Weinberg
My Lunches with Orson by Peter Biskind
Ladle Rat Rotten Hut by Cameron Jace
They Met at Shiloh by Bryant, Phillip
The Tower: A Novel by Uwe Tellkamp
The Story of Us by Dani Atkins
The Front Seat Passenger by Pascal Garnier