Forever Bound (2 page)

“What?”

“Jess,
we’re supposed to be making a partnership. We’re supposed to be planning this
together...”

“But
this is what I do!”

“Right.
What could I possibly know about marrying the woman I love.” Ryan swore then
shook his head. “I seriously need some coffee.” He pushed past her again and
headed for the kitchen, peeling off his T-shirt and tossing it in the general
direction of the laundry basket.

Another
day, another time, Jess might have offered to make that pot of coffee. She
might have followed him to the kitchen to have a cup herself. But she still had
to pack his bag, apparently, and she had to shower.

Ball
and chain.

Bridezilla.

It
must just be the way guys talked at stags, she told herself. It wasn’t as if
she’d ever been to one. And Ryan’s friends could be a bit rough around the
edges. Like Mark, who owned that bar downtown. They’d been friends since
elementary school and she respected that - even if Mark seemed determined to
ensure that Ryan stayed single.

But
as she stepped into the shower, she acknowledged that the discord between them
wasn’t all the fault of Ryan’s friends. Ryan seemed to have become a different
guy than the one who’d stolen her heart. How could he resent her using the
wedding to build her business? It had been his idea to use their wedding as
promotion.

She’d
followed his suggestion and now he’d changed, from Prince Charming to the
Beast.

Was
she making a mistake?

* * *

Ryan
was convinced that it was safest to be drunk.

At
all times.

Or
asleep.

There
were no other good choices, at least not until the wedding from hell was over. What
had been in his head to encourage Jess to use their wedding as evidence of her
bridal consulting services? He was sure that coronations occurred with less
planning and stress.

He
put on a pot of coffee in the kitchen and braced his hands on the counter. His
head was pounding. He felt like shit. Knowing that there wasn’t a bar or a bed
in his future for the next two hours didn’t improve his mood. He didn’t know
whether to be glad or relieved that Jess hadn’t followed him into the kitchen.

The
worst part was that they seemed to be on the cusp of an argument all the time
now. He missed how easy it had been between them, easy and hot.

There
was that, too. Their agreed month without sex might just kill him. Making love
diffused any argument. It restored the balance between them. It improved their
respective moods. Not having sex left him frustrated and irritable, neither of
which left him in a good emotional place to deal with the growing mountain of
trivia.

He
could have managed all the pressures and conflicts, if he and Jess had still
been good together.

Being
drunk meant that he didn’t spend time wondering what the hell was going wrong
– and whether it mattered. Ryan had fallen hard for Jess. Talk about love
at first sight. He’d been the beat cop dispatched when her shop was robbed.
He’d expected the damage and the theft of goods, the willful destruction. He
hadn’t expected the beautiful fairy princess weeping in the middle of the
scattered bridal gowns and white satin slippers.

Or
how her tears bothered him.

Ryan
certainly hadn’t expected that he’d be able to coax her smile, never mind that
it would thrill him so much. He’d found an excuse to go back and check on her
after his shift, then again the next day—twice—unable to avoid
being obvious about it. Finally, she’d called him on it and insisted they go
for coffee. He hadn’t believed his luck. In days, he’d been head over heels in
love, and had meant every word he’d said when he proposed. It had seemed like
heaven –a perfect relationship right out of the blue—but then
everything started to unravel.

He’d
had no idea that weddings could be so extravagant. True, it was Jess’s
business, and she did come from a different section of the social scene than he
did. He supposed he hadn’t really understood what she did. When he caught sight
of the invoices, he was blown away.

His
parents had been infuriated by the plans. His family tended to be frugal and to
keep things understated. A ceremony at the church in the small town where he’d
grown up, a buffet dinner cooked by the ladies in the congregation (of which
his mother was one) and served in the church hall, then dancing to a local DJ
with a cash bar was their idea of a wedding. He’d attended dozens of such
weddings and they were always fun. He’d known that they’d be uncomfortable with
this event, but hadn’t expected his mother to be so scathing—not just
about the arrangements themselves, but about his bride-to-be.

Ryan
had two brothers and three sisters. His dad was probably freaking that his
younger sisters would be so inspired by Jess’s extravaganza that they’d want
similar weddings themselves. His family was arriving later at the resort and
staying for less time, all under protest.

It
was a note of discord that Ryan could have done without. On the one hand, he
didn’t want his parents destroying Jess’s moment, so he’s sheltered her from
their opinions. On the other, he pretty much agreed with his folks.

But
he wanted Jess to be happy, and he wanted her business to succeed. He knew this
was important to her, even if he wasn’t sure why. She was to be his wife. He
loved her completely. He was trying to make it work, and not succeeding very
well.

He
poured himself a coffee and drank half a mug of it in one swallow, hot and
black. It tasted awful but it woke him up. He topped up the cup.

Jess’s
idea of abstaining from sex for a month before the wedding had seemed like a
good idea. They’d played many times with teasing each other to build for a
hotter encounter. They routinely made rules like ‘no sex until
Sunday’—then Jess spent the weekend walking around the apartment naked,
painting her toenails and trying on lingerie. When they finally did it, it was
always explosive.

But
he hadn’t counted on the reality of being celibate for thirty days, especially
when his buddies were determined to throw women into his path. They thought it
imperative that he have a last fling of bachelorhood, which didn’t really
appeal to Ryan. It was Jess who starred in all of his fantasies: Jess with her
dark eyes and her chestnut hair, Jess with her quick thinking, her wicked smile
and her tight little butt curved against him every morning. He wanted to pinch
himself every morning when he woke up beside her.

Ryan
liked to think that he could have dealt with the lack of sex for that month if
Jess had been talking to him. But she was obsessed with the details of the wedding
and he found himself incapable of starting a conversation with her that had any
meaning at all. It seemed there was a huge boulder between them, one that was
getting bigger by the minute.

Ryan
told himself that it was just the strain of the arrangements. He was convinced
that they would get through this and return to their previous happy balance.
But that could only happen if he didn’t mess up, if he didn’t surrender to
temptation and take advantage of something – or someone – being offered
to him.

Drunk
and/or asleep made that impossible, which was why there were Ryan’s solutions
of choice. He heard her get out of the shower, finished his coffee, and went to
shower and shave.

They
couldn’t get to the resort soon enough.

Maybe
he’d sleep on the plane.

* * *

By
the time they got to the resort, Jessica was a wreck.

The
crevasse between her and Ryan just kept getting wider. This wedding should have
been every dream come true, but she hadn’t counted on her groom having a
character transplant.

Which
was the real Ryan? The mischievous, sexy, thoughtful guy she’d fallen in love
with? Or this party animal, who was never home at night and was going through
aspirin like crazy in the mornings?

More
importantly—which Ryan would she find herself with on the day after their
wedding?

She
found herself regretting that she’d acted on his idea to use the wedding as a
promotion for her business. If they’d been going to City Hall and having a
small scale wedding, Jess could have asked for some time to think. If there hadn’t
been the media attention, she could have paused to be sure they were making the
right choice.

But
this Caribbean wedding on the beach had been booked months ago. The plans were
finalized, the most stupendous dress in the world was hers and had its own
suitcase, the deposits had been paid, plus numerous family members and friends
had booked their vacations to be there on her big day. The entire event would
be a fiasco—casting ripples through every corner of her life—if she
cancelled now.

Did
she just have cold feet?

As
a bonus, she discovered when the shuttle was being unloaded at the resort that
the suitcase with her wedding dress wasn’t there. Just when she could have used
some moral support, Ryan bailed. He gave her a peck on the cheek and headed to
the bar with his buddies.

Jess
could have screamed. Wasn’t it great that she’d paid extra to have a secluded
romantic cottage, instead of the standard room? Ryan would have a better view
when he slept off his hangovers.

It
didn’t help that her brother Jake was so damn nice. Jess couldn’t imagine how
he could be so thick about women when he was otherwise such a smart guy. Her
best friend, Christine, and her maid of honor for the wedding, had been wild
for Jake since forever. Jess knew she wasn’t the only one who had
noticed—but Jake had missed it completely. So, when Mark hit on Christine
at the airport lounge and Jake did the gentlemanly thing of upgrading her seat
to business class to sit with him, she knew her brother was just being
protective and, well,
nice
.

She’d
also seen the wild hope that had lit Christine’s eyes.

If
Jake broke Christine’s heart any more than he already had, Jess wasn’t sure
there’d be any pieces left to patch together. Now, he was striding off to his
room, oblivious to the fact that Christine was watching him with that yearning
in her expression.

Jess
wanted to deck him.

She
really wanted to deck Ryan, but there’d be fewer repercussions if she fought
with Jake. She ran her hand through her hair, admitting that she was a complete
mess. She was going to look like a corpse on her big day.

Bridezilla.

“You
okay, girlfriend?” Fiona asked, turning up beside her. Fiona was gorgeous, with
her acres of wavy red hair and her exotic green eyes. She was curvy and fun,
and Jess wished she had half of her friend’s confidence. They’d met at college,
where Fiona had swept Jess under her wing and taught her how to really party.

She
still couldn’t hold a candle to Fiona’s capabilities.

Or
her libido.

Jess
grimaced instead of answering, not at all sure Fiona would understand the
concept of being uncertain about anything, especially a man.

She
should talk to Christine, instead. On the other hand, she was afraid she’d have
to break the news to Christine that Jake was—again—just being nice
and that she shouldn’t get her hopes up.

“I
don’t blame you,” Fiona said, acting as if Jess had answered. She always
thought she knew best, which could be refreshing. “I can’t imagine only having
sex with one man for the rest of my life. I mean, how could it be worth it?”

Jess
smiled despite herself. “Not even for love?”

Fiona
rolled her eyes. “Love comes and love goes, Jess. I’ve been in love a thousand
times and enjoyed every minute of it. Never known it to last more than
seventy-two hours, though.” She grinned. “That’s probably a good thing. People
make bad choices under the influence of love.” She dropped a significant glance
to Jess’s engagement ring.

Jess
exhaled, unable to argue with that. “If I hear the phrase ‘ball and chain’ one
more time, I’m going to hurt somebody.”

“You
can do better than that,” Fiona said gleefully. “You can make him pay for it.”

Jess
stared at her friend. “What do you mean?”

Fiona
glanced each way, then dropped her voice low. “He’s afraid he’s getting tied
down. Poor baby.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she pouted in mock
sympathy. “Why don’t you really tie him down, and give him a preview?”

Jess
was shocked. “Fiona! I’m not like you. I can’t
do
that.”

Fiona’s
glance slid to Christine, then back to Jess. “Guess I’ll have to be the resident
bad girl. You can ask the ice princess for advice, then.”

“Christine
isn’t an ice princess.”

“She’ll
die a virgin.” Fiona rolled her eyes. “I mean she’s a sweet girl, but wow, I
wasn’t that uptight when I was five.”

Jess
smiled. She knew that Christine wasn’t a virgin, although Christine certainly
didn’t share Fiona’s ravenous appetite for men. The thing was that every guy
Christine had dated had had some passing resemblance to Jake. Jess had called
her on it a couple of years before, and Christine had been mortified—so
mortified that as far as Jess knew, she hadn’t dated anyone seriously since.