Marriage: Impossible (Voretti Family Book 1) (5 page)

“Uh…” He cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

“I know you’re upset about something. Maybe if you tell me about it, I can help. I
want
to help. Please, Sean. Tell me what’s going on.”

It took him longer than it should’ve to make sense of her words. Because, for a second, he’d actually forgotten about Ty’s injury. Around Keri, crazy things like that happened.

Even crazier, he was actually considering doing what she’d asked.

He could tell her. He could tell her everything.

But it wouldn’t just be talking. He’d be laying his burden on her.

She might think she could carry it—she might even manage to lift it up for a while—but eventually the weight would crush her. And then he would be truly lost.

He cleared his expression of everything but the smile he wanted her to see. “Nothing’s going on. We’re taking a cruise around the lake.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s colder than I thought it would be. I should’ve brought a jacket.”

“I know I’m not the wife you would have chosen, but I thought we were friends.”

“We
are
friends.”

“Friends talk to each other. And I don’t mean jokes and funny stories. They talk to each other about their problems. The dark, messy stuff they have trouble acknowledging even to themselves. Let me help you. It’s my job now.” Her eyes projected the same hurt as when her parents had ignored her fears about the first officer sixteen years ago. And Sean was as powerless to resist it now as he had been at age nine.

He couldn’t lay his whole burden on her, but maybe he could give her a little piece. Enough to reassure her that he trusted her, but not so much that she’d falter under the weight.

“I guess…” He cleared his throat. “On that last tour, it started to get to me.” It felt strange to say the words—he’d held them inside for so long he’d gotten used to the feel of them there. “I do what I can, but it’s never enough. No matter how many missions I go on, there’s so much ugliness left in the world. It’s like I’m trying to bail out a sinking ship with a spoon, and sometimes I wonder why I’m even trying. If I’m doing more harm than good.”

“Of course you’re not. You’ve done so much, but you’re only one person. You can’t solve all of the world’s problems. All you can do is make things a little better. And you do that.
Every da
y, you do that.”

They were only words—practically the same words he told himself on a daily basis. But hearing them come through Keri’s soft, sweet lips made all the difference.

“If I found someone for you to talk to,” she said, “would you go?”

“Someone…like a shrink?”

“Someone like a therapist who specializes in PTSD.”

Damn
. This was the problem with letting out the shit that festered inside him. He couldn’t help exposing too much. Now Keri was gonna think he couldn’t possibly survive without her.

“Talking about your problems doesn’t make you weak,” she said. “It makes you human. You can’t heal if you don’t clean out the poison.”

Or maybe he was thinking about this all wrong. Maybe talking to a therapist was exactly what he needed to do to convince Keri that he was on the mend. That someone else was taking care of the problem, so he was no longer her responsibility.

He could debate the two sides all day and still not come to a consensus. So he opened his mouth and went with the first words that wanted to come out. “Okay. I’ll go.”

She let out her breath in one big gust. “I think this is going to be really good for you. I want you to be happy. You
deserve
to be happy.”

The fierceness in her tone left no room for argument. He didn’t want to anyway. He wanted to hold her so close she wouldn’t be able to think about letting him go, and he’d never have to go back to his cold, lonely existence.

Shit
.

He forced himself to take a step back. And then another.

He couldn’t let his selfish desire for a connection with Keri outweigh the rational part of him that knew they needed to get a divorce.

“Sean? Look at me.”

Why did he need to do that when he could already tell how close she was? His body knew the exact number of inches that separated them, like he’d gotten some kind of internal GPS set to track her when he’d signed the marriage certificate.

He turned to face her—a risk he had to take if he had the faintest chance of convincing her he was going to be okay. “Thanks for…what you said. I’m not good at expressing my feelings. But it did help. I want you to know that.”

“I’m glad.” She tilted her head as she looked him over, exposing the delicate column of her neck. The place where his lips had been this morning.

All of a sudden, he was burning up.

She wanted him. At this range, he couldn’t mistake the intensity of her gaze. The way her body angled toward him like she was warming herself with his heat.

Look away.

Impossible. He couldn’t see anything—not the sunlight glinting on the water, not the white wake behind the boat, not the green boughs of the pines on the shore. Nothing but Keri.

“Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

“I know you want to kiss me. And that’s okay.” She held up her hand, bringing that silver band to his attention.

As if a second had passed since he’d opened his eyes that those matching rings hadn’t been uppermost in his mind. They were married. They’d spent last night in bed together. And he didn’t remember it—not one single second of the moment he’d spent half his life imagining.

She reached toward him.

Time slowed. His heart thudded in his chest, and his body only had one item on the agenda. It wasn’t breathing.

Keri traced a path up his chest with one hand.

He hissed in a breath, desperate to keep control of himself. But, despite his thick cotton T-shirt, he felt everything. The delicate ridges of her fingertips. The heat of her body, like she was touching his bare skin.

She hooked one hand behind his neck. Came up on her toes.

All he had to do was say no. He didn’t even have to do that. He bench-pressed more than her total weight as a warm-up. If he wanted to, he could pick her up and deposit her a safe distance away. But all his muscles were straining toward her.

Just one kiss
.
One little kiss to make the shitstorm their marriage was causing bearable
.

But when his lips met hers, there was nothing little about it. There was heat and desperation and tongues and teeth as years of wanting poured into that single kiss.

The hell of it was, he knew he was ruining everything. His twenty-year friendship with Ty. That tiny fragment that remained of his self-respect. But Keri was here, in his arms, like he’d imagined for so long. She smelled like sunlight and new beginnings, and he kissed her and kissed her until he couldn’t remember why he was supposed to stop.

She made a soft sound in the back of her throat. Sank into him like her muscles had turned liquid.

He was beyond hard. He had to get closer. Had to—

The boat shuddered.

He braced his legs and pulled Keri closer. He didn’t care if the goddamn boat was about to capsize; he wasn’t going to let anything take her away from—

The boat jolted forward, jarring them apart.

The kid stuck his head out of the cabin. “Sorry, folks. We’re having some engine trouble. Nothing to worry about, but we are going to have to turn back, just in case.”

Some of what Sean was feeling must’ve shown through because the kid’s eyes went wide. “Don’t worry, sir. We’ll give you a full refund.”

Sean barely resisted the urge to punch him.

*

Keri reclined against the torn vinyl seat of the taxi, in a state of bliss that not even the flat tire on Sean’s truck, which couldn’t be fixed until morning, could compromise.

When Sean had found the flat, shortly into their drive back to San Diego, he’d called every shop within fifty miles, trying to find one that was still open. But he hadn’t gotten that scary, blank look on his face. The tense set to his shoulders was gone, and the tightness in his jaw had softened.

He wasn’t smiling, but at least he looked like he could if the opportunity presented itself. He looked like Sean again, and there was only one explanation for it—their kiss.

She stole a glance at him. He turned quickly, directing his gaze out the window, but she could tell he’d been staring at her.

Her already good mood turned epic.

She didn’t normally buy into Ty’s theory of the universe, but this was too much to be a coincidence. The bar fight, her random turn into the wedding chapel, the misunderstanding this morning, and the flat tire that was going to keep her and Sean together for another night had to be more than a random sequence of events. It had to be fate.

She’d wanted Sean for as long as she could remember. And if she could help him exorcise whatever demons he’d brought back from Iraq, he’d see she was the one he was meant to be with.

She needed to tell him they weren’t really married. But if she gave it a little more time—long enough to show him how perfect they were together—surely he would understand. She just needed to come up with the right strategy.

By the time the rough-hewn wood of the Sierra Lodge Hotel came into view, her plan was firmly in place. She was going to seduce Sean. Tonight.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Yes.” She held his gaze, telling him without any words that she wasn’t hungry for food.

The taxi stopped in front of the entrance.
 

The bellhop rushed over to open her door, but Sean got there first. He glared at the man, who jogged over to the next car with a muttered, “Excuse me.”

Keri’s whole body broke out in goose bumps. She wanted Sean to rub them away with his hands. Or possibly his tongue.

She took his hand, moving closer than necessary as she jumped out of the cab. Looked deep into his eyes.

He held her gaze as he opened his mouth, and she stopped breathing, so sure he was about to confess his feelings for her that it took a second to process what he’d actually said. “That steak place across the street looks good.”

Okay. She wasn’t living inside a fairy tale. Sean had relegated her to the Little Sister compartment for too long to think he was going to perform a drastic reorganization based on one soulful look.

The first order of business was to get him alone. “Let’s order in.”

He looked like he was about to object, so she added, “I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah. Sure.” His look of concern triggered a mild pang of guilt. But then he put his arm around her, pressing her against a wall of warm, strong muscle, and she congratulated herself on her ingenuity.

Everything was different with him so close. The air smelled fresher. The slight chill seemed romantic instead of cold—an excuse to cuddle closer. The walk to the hotel lobby didn’t last nearly long enough, and all too soon, Sean was letting go of her to get out his wallet.

He didn’t mention separate rooms—another good sign—and, as they strolled down the hall, they could’ve been any of the other normal couples in the place.

He held the door open for her. She walked inside, went straight to the room-service menu, and ordered two plates of Chicken Marsala because it was the first entrée on the list.

Sean had disappeared into the bathroom by the time she got off the phone. She took the opportunity to close the curtains, giving them privacy. The overhead light gave the room a sterile, institutional feel, so she switched it off, leaving only a single lamp.

After what felt like forever, Sean finally came out of the bathroom. His hair was wet, like he’d dunked his head under the faucet. He’d taken off his shoes, leaving him in a black cotton shirt that conformed to every muscle and a pair of jeans that looked soft to the touch.

Her whole body hummed. She took a step toward him.

“Why is it so dark in here?” He flipped the switch, taking the lighting from a romantic glow to the unrelenting glare of an operating room.

“No reason. I mean, I had a little bit of a headache, so…”

“Oh. Sorry.” He flipped the switch back.

He strode toward her, like he’d finally gotten all those subliminal get-over-here-and-kiss-me messages she was sending his way—only he walked right past her. “Get some sleep. I’ll grab some food at the bar so I don’t bother you.”

“No!”

He stopped, one hand on the doorknob.

Not so loud. You’re trying to seduce him, not blow out his eardrums
. “It’s not a very bad headache. And I took an aspirin, so I’m sure it’ll be gone soon. Plus I already ordered food.”

Room service arrived, postponing any additional objections. The waiter set their plates on the small table. Sean tipped him, and then the man was gone.

Leaving her and Sean alone in the room.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get some sleep?” He pulled out a chair, but didn’t sit.

“Of course. Doesn’t that smell amazing?” She couldn’t smell anything but Sean—that mix of outdoors and sunshine and man.

A pause. Then, “Yeah.”

Her whole body responded to the way he rasped that single syllable out.

Relax. He’s talking about the food
.

He finally settled on the edge of the chair.

She sat as close to him as she could—not difficult because the table was tiny. She’d once read in
Trendsetter Magazine
that the best way to turn a guy on was to get him to focus on your lips. Okay. She could do that.

She cut a piece of her chicken. “This looks great.”

Sean looked up, exactly like she’d hoped, and she slipped the bite into her mouth. Then she sucked every bit of sauce off the fork. Slowly.

His gaze stayed right there, locked onto her. Except, what if he was staring because she looked ridiculous? It was too dark to get a good read on his expression. Why had she turned off so many lights? Why had she ordered Chicken Marsala instead of oysters or scallops or molten chocolate cake? Chicken Marsala was not sexy. Why hadn’t she dated more in college so she’d have some idea of how to seduce a man that came from experience rather than a magazine article? Instead, she’d wasted all her time studying. And mooning over Sean.