Talon (Ashes & Embers Book 4) (5 page)

Sitting next to him on the couch, I pull my legs up and hug my knees to my chest. "I don't understand any of this. What were they thinking?"

"I have no fucking idea, but I'm gonna find out."

"How exactly are you going to do that? It's after midnight."

Grabbing his cell phone, he pushes a button. "My mom's part of the project team. I'll get some answers out of her."

"What?! Your mom?" How is his mother involved? Isn't that a conflict of interest of some sort?

As he paces the floor waiting for the call to connect, I silently pray this is all a mistake and my real husband is somewhere nearby and will come save me. Then hopefully, Talon will get his correct wife, and we can all walk away from this happy.

"
S
weetheart
, you better have a good reason for calling me on your wedding night. Shouldn't you be occupied right now?"

"What the fuck, Mom? Is this some kind of joke?"

"Talon, lower your voice. What's wrong?"

"You know what's wrong. This. This entire mess," I seethe, exasperated. "We have nothing in common. Zero. Zilch. Nada. She hates me. She hates the way I look. And she's not what I wanted either. I wanted a tall, blond model type. She's too…cute for me. She's short. And she hates to travel. And she's got, like, no tits." Asia winces as I rattle off my list.

My mother sighs into the phone. "Honey, calm down. There is way much more to this than what you two are seeing on the surface. Right now, you're just focusing on looks and trivial things. And that's to be expected. We talked about this in the sessions, remember? That it would take a while to get used to the other person."

"I know, but come on! We got nothing here!"

"Talon, get your shit together." My father has taken the phone from my mother.
Crap.
"You don't talk about women like that, especially your wife. You both agreed to this, and you've been together for less than six hours. Calm the hell down and give it time. Relationships take work. You don't just add water and stir."

"Dad…"

"Get off the phone and go be an adult with your wife. Try talking to her and forget about her tits. We're hanging up now."

Click.

"That went well," Asia comments from her perch on the couch.

"Fucking great." Tossing my phone back onto the dresser, I scan the room for something to drink that’s nonalcoholic, because if I start drinking, I'm not going to stop.

"So it's not a mistake?"

Taking a soda out of the small refrigerator in the corner of the room, I shake my head at her. "Apparently not." I guzzle half the bottle. "For whatever fucked-up reason, they put us together. Probably to see how fast one of us runs for the door."

"Soda is bad for you. Especially gulping it like that. You should drink water."

I glare at her before I take another large gulp of the soda because I'm a rebel like that. "Don't even," I warn. "If you tell me you're one of those vegan, no-gluten, sugar-hating, non-meat-eating, smoothie-slurpin' chicks, I'm going to lose my shit right here."

Her eyes widen. "Okay, then…"

She looks lost, huddled up on the couch with that huge robe on, hugging herself, her eyes red and puffy. She's upset. I don't have to know her, or even like her, to see it written all over her face.

"I'm sorry," I say unconvincingly. "I don't mean to be such an asshole."

"It's okay… I shouldn't have said anything." She stares at the floor where her wedding gown lays in a heap.
Shit.
It's not supposed to be like this.

"No, it's not okay." I said some really mean things to her. This is what I didn't want anymore—stupid fights with women who don't care about me and who I sure as shit don't care about. I wanted better than this, and I'm sure Asia did too.

But a tiny light bulb goes off in my brain. I
do
care this time. Just a tiny bit, but it's there. My chest aches in a funny way seeing her upset, knowing I've hurt her feelings, and that she's scared of all this. And that's a first for me.

Maybe that means something.

Or maybe I just drank too much soda.

I sit back on the couch next to her and take her left hand awkwardly into mine, rubbing my thumb across the platinum band I slid onto her tiny finger just a few hours ago.
She's mine.
I'm not sure why, but she's mine now. My partner in this mess.

"We in this together?" I ask her, softening my voice.

"Yeah." She sniffles and squeezes my hand.

"I don't know about you, but I didn't answer a thousand questions about what I wanted in a wife to just give up."

She gives me a weak smile. "Me neither."

"So…here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna sleep in the bed, I'm gonna sleep on this couch, and we're gonna get some rest. In the morning, we're gonna order everyfuckingthing on the breakfast menu, and then figure out where we're going to live. We'll start over and forget about long hair, tits, and tattoos. Okay, jelly bean?"

Biting her lower lip, she nods. "Okay. I can do that."

I release her hand and she stands, the robe parting enough to give me a perfect view of her white lace bra, panties, stockings, and belt. And damn, she's actually a hot little thing. I bite my tongue to keep myself from making a sarcastic sex comment, which is really hard for me.
Really hard.

She quickly pulls the robe closed and turns to me before walking off. "You can take the bed; you're bigger than me. I can sleep out here."

"No way. You get the bed. There's always extra pillows and blankets in the closet I can use. I'm fine. I've slept on way worse than this."

She walks to the closet and pulls out two pillows and a blanket, then comes back and hands them to me with a shy smile.

"Thanks."

"Goodnight, Talon."

She follows the path of forgotten, lonely, wilted rose petals to the bedroom—
our honeymoon suite
—and disappears as she closes the door softly behind her.

"Goodnight, Asia," I whisper after her, bunching the pillow up under my head and pulling the thin blanket over me.

So here I am, married to what is supposed to be the woman of my dreams, and I'm still sleeping on a couch in a hotel room. Alone. Without my Egyptian cotton sheets.
Or my wife.

Somehow the team managed to find the one woman on the East Coast who doesn't want to fuck me. Or do anything else with me, for that matter.

Well-played, romance experts. Well-played.

D
im light wakes me
, beaming through the slit between the closed curtains. It takes me a few squinty moments to remember where I am.

The honeymoon suite.

I hold my left hand out and stare at the foreign ring, then slowly pull it off to read the inscription inside the band. In the craziness of yesterday, I had forgotten that a few weeks before the wedding we were asked to have a few words inscribed in our future spouse's band, to give us something to look back on later when hopefully our marriages were successful.

I asked to have the words
laugh with me, love with me
inscribed into his.

Mine has
no beginning, no end, just now
inscribed.

Hmm. I like that a lot, but I am curious what it means, exactly. Maybe like a live-in-the-moment sort of thing? I'm just grateful he didn't put something like
rock on!

Sliding the ring back onto my finger, I yawn and stretch in the huge bed. I feel bad he slept on the couch while I slept in this bed that could fit ten people. His gesture of sleeping on the couch and letting me have the bedroom was very gentlemanly, though, which I appreciate. He's obviously got a considerate side under his wild exterior.

I crawl out of the bed and pull the fluffy white robe on over my panties. I ditched the bra and garter belt getup last night before I fell asleep, feeling silly for having them on to begin with. And I can't really blame him for the tease comment. I shouldn't have worn something sexy if I wasn't ready to actually have sex.

But…if he had been more of what I pictured in my mind, would the night have ended differently? Would I have slept with him if he had short hair, no tats, worked in an office, and wasn't a rock star? Maybe. I wonder what that says about me.

Quietly opening the bedroom door, I step out into the sitting room area and immediately notice the couch is empty, the blanket folded neatly and placed on top of the pillows.

"Talon?" I call out and peek into the bathroom, but he's not in there, or out on the balcony.

Assuming he went down to the lobby to get coffee, I grab some clothes out of my bag and head to the bathroom to take a hot shower. I look like a mess with my makeup still on from last night, and my hair is all stiff from the amount of gel, texturizer, and hairspray Kat used to get it to stay where she wanted it.

I take an extra long shower, enjoying the water pressure and the fact that I'm not running out of hot water in five minutes like at my apartment. Then I dry off and pull on my jeans and a purple V-neck T-shirt that I adorned with little rhinestones a few weeks ago. I blow-dry my hair as straight as I can, irritated that I forgot my flat iron, and open the bathroom door, hoping we can somehow figure this marriage thing out.

But he's not here.

Glancing at the time on my cell, I realize I was in the bathroom for at least forty-five minutes. It wouldn't take him that long to get a coffee. His cell phone, Zippo lighter, and cigarettes aren't on the dresser where he threw them last night, either. His bag is still here, but there's probably nothing in there he can't live without and wouldn't mind just leaving to make a quick getaway.

He's gone.

Blinking back the tears in my eyes, I stare around the room, hoping to at least find a note, but there's nothing.

Obviously his
we're in this together
statement meant nothing.

Tears of anger and disappointment burn down my cheeks as I quickly shove my clothes into my small bag and roll the wedding gown into a big ball and head for the door. I'll call Kat from the lobby and have her come pick me up and take me home. I don't even want to talk to Dr. Hollister or Kim right now. There's nothing they can say or do to make this better. Not even a team of experts could pick a guy who's willing to stay with me longer than one night.

Nunnery, here I come.

Just as I'm about to open the door, the electronic key beeps and Talon walks in, almost knocking me over. Eyeing me suspiciously, he lays his phone and cigarettes on the little table next to the door.

"Were you leaving?" he asks in disbelief. "You were just gonna ditch me here?"

I drop my bag and the huge gown at my feet. "I thought
you
left." I wipe at my eyes, embarrassed to be crying in front of him. "I woke up and you were gone. It's been over an hour. All your stuff is gone."

He points to his duffel bag on the floor. "My stuff is right over there."

"I meant your phone and your cigarettes."

Reaching out, he gently lifts my chin and stares into my eyes. "Are you crying?"

I try to turn away from him, but he holds my face still. "Are you?" he repeats, his brown eyes locking on to mine.

"A little," I admit.

His thumb slowly traces my jaw. "Why?"

"I thought you left me already."

He leans down and kisses my lips softly. This time, I let him.

"I'm still here," he says, not pulling too far away. "I just went down to the gym to work out," His lips meet mine once more, and a crazy tingle races down my spine and explodes in my stomach like little fireflies. "I try to work out every morning. And your lips taste yummy," he adds.

"Oh…" I guess the vanilla lip balm I've been trying to get right is finally perfect.

Letting go of my face, he picks up my things and carries them back into the room casually, as if that kiss didn't just happen. "Can we agree not to randomly ditch each other?" he asks, turning back to face me. I'm still glued to my spot in the small hallway.

"I would like that." I touch my lips softly with my finger, still a little mesmerized by his kiss, which made me way weaker in the knees than I want to admit.

He runs his hand through his wavy hair. "You really think I'd just leave while you were sleeping? The fuck?"

I shrug a little, feeling silly for overreacting. "I'm not sure… I don't know you or what you would do."

He nods. "Fair enough. For the record, I'm not a dick, Asia. If I've got an issue, I'll tell you. I won't just disappear."

"I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. I don't know what I was thinking."

"I don't like that
you
were just going to leave, though. We're either in this fuckin' thing together, or we're not. There's gotta be a little bit of trust here."

"You're totally right," I say, slowly walking back into the main room. "This is just hard. And to be honest, I'm kinda scared. People have a habit of leaving me." Admitting my fears to him is difficult for me, but Dr. Hollister insisted during our many meetings that being honest about our fears is important.

He narrows his chestnut eyes at me. "I ain't leavin'." He picks up the menu from next to the phone and sits on the bed with it before returning his attention to me. "We made a commitment. And even though it all seems pretty messed up right now, I think we need to give it a try."

"You're right. That’s what this entire thing is supposed to be about." I cross the room and sit on the bed next to him. "Having faith in someone else, right?"

"And ourselves," he adds.

That's true. So much of this is about trusting ourselves as much as trusting the other person, on top of trusting the people who matched us up.

"And if it makes you feel any better, chicks leave me, too, once they're done getting their brains fucked out. That seems to be all I'm good for."

Yikes.
"Well, that really doesn't make me feel better, but I'm sure you're good for a lot more than that."
I hope.

He smirks at me. "Since you're not interested in me fucking your brains out, I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

I suddenly have an aha moment and touch his arm. "Talon, I think you just figured out the first reason why they put us together."

He stares at me, those sexy dark eyes boring right into me. "You might be right, jelly bean. I guess I'm supposed to win you over with my witty charm and not my dick."

I can't help but laugh. I'm kind of starting to like his sarcastic side. "That would be a good start."

He lets out a big sigh. "I don't know about you, but I want some fucking pancakes."

T
alon wasn't kidding
when he said he was going to order everything on the breakfast menu. It takes two waiters to deliver our food and spread it all out on the round table in the corner of our sitting room. I'm a little awed when he tips them each a $50 bill, and they both leave, offering to bring him anything else he needs.

We sit at the table and he starts to dive in to pancakes, bacon, and sausage while I take the fresh fruit and yogurt.

He holds a piece of bacon out to me. "Bacon?"

"No… I don't eat meat."

He bites into it and chews slowly, watching me with an impish spark in his eyes. "Oh, you will be eating meat, baby."

I roll my eyes at him and swallow my fruit before replying. "Is that your witty charm coming out again?"

"Hey, I'm tryin'."

I pour some fresh squeezed orange juice into my glass. "So, I was thinking we should do something like a speed-dating conversation to try to get to know each other."

He nods excitedly while drenching his pancakes in more syrup. "I'm game. That could be fun. We just shoot questions at each other?"

"Yes."

He sips his coffee and thinks for a moment. "Okay, I'll go first. Favorite color?"

I laugh and shake my head in amusement. "That's the first thing you want to know?"

"Yeah."

"Purple. Yours?"

"I'm gonna go with black." He starts to dig in to the waffles next. "Do you work?"

Geez. He goes from colors to career in two seconds. "I work from home. I make clothes and accessories, belts and scarves and whatnot, and some jewelry. I also make homemade soaps and bath products like body scrubs, lotions, and lip balms."

He raises his eyebrows in surprise and approval. "That's pretty wild. Did you put those little gem things on your shirt?" He points his fork at me.

"I did."

"I like that. I dig creative stuff. And I like that you're home. I won't have to worry about you."

"Do you do anything else for work?" I inquire. "Or just the band?"

He looks offended and leans back a little in his chair. "Really? That's not enough?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I just wondered if you were involved in anything else."

"I've done some modeling."

"See? That counts."

While buttering up some toast, he fires his next question at me. "I noticed my brother dragged you down the aisle. Where's your family?"

Taking a deep breath, I try to find the best words to explain my family and decide to just spit out the truth. "My father and brother are both in prison, and my mom took off when I was seventeen with a guy she met. I've only heard from her twice since, when she was hoping to get some money out of me—which I don't have." I raise my gaze to meet his, hoping he's not disgusted by me, and his eyes soften as he nods a little for me to continue. "I had to drop out of school my senior year so I could try to work and take care of myself. I didn't go to college or anything like that."

He puts his fork down and runs his hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear. "Whether you went to college doesn't matter to me. That's a shitty thing to have to go through, though, especially so young. As you saw at the wedding, I have a big family, and we're all pretty close."

"You're very lucky to have them." I'm envious, actually. Although I met them all briefly in the flurry of crazy yesterday, they seemed extremely nice and welcoming. And I could tell they actually cared about each other, unlike my own family.

"You have them, too. My family is your family now."

I glance down at my plate and push my fruit around. "That's really sweet. But, we don't even know if this is going to work. I'd rather not get my hopes up about having a nice family."

"Asia, I didn't get into this to get divorced. Did you?"

I snap my head up with defiance. "No. That's the last thing I want."

"Good, 'cause I don't know how, but we're going to make this fuckin' thing work."

My insides tremble at the possibility of what he's saying. Maybe this really
can
work. Maybe, somehow, I really will get through the next six months of this and end up with a husband and a great family.

"Is that your real name?" he asks suddenly. "Asia?"

"It is. Is Talon yours?"

"Yup. We all have unique names in my family. That's what you get when your mom is a romance author and your dad's a musician."

"I really like all the names," I admit. "I always thought they were stage names."

He grabs an e-cig out of his cigarette pack and starts to puff on it. "Nope. They're on our birth certificates that way."

"Did you quit smoking while you were downstairs?" I tease, gesturing to the electronic cigarette.

Letting out a laugh, he pushes his empty plate a few inches away. "No, I just don't want to set the smoke alarm off. I am trying to quit, though. My brother used these, so I'm giving them a try." He blows vapor to his left and then fixes his eyes on me intently. "So, the million-dollar question. Sex. You've made it clear you're not a slut, and I like that, actually."

My stomach does a small flip and a flush of heat comes over me. "I wish I could say the same about you. It seems like you have quite the reputation."

He smirks. "Guilty as charged, jelly bean. Sorry."

I brace myself to ask my next question. "Are you able to be faithful?"

The tip of his e-cig glows blue while he takes a long drag off of it. "I think so," he finally says, with a hint of uncertainty.

"You think?" I repeat. "You have to be sure. I can't be married to a cheater."

"Is it cheating if we're not having sex?" he teases, tilting his head to the side.

I glare at him and push my own plate off to the side, my appetite suddenly gone. "Yes, Talon. It is."

"Take it easy, I'm just kidding. I'm sure I won't cheat on you. I've gone a month without it so far, so that's a record for me."

I feel as if I were just slapped at his words. "A month?" I repeat. "You had sex a month ago?"