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Chapter Four

Kit

Rubbing my hair with a towel, I pull up Genevieve’s contact and hit the call button. My pulse thunders like a runaway herd. I need to tell her what happened yesterday.

Everything that happened! Before my sister has a complete meltdown. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I’ve talked to her.

Honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t shown up at the hotel already. Sure, she’s sent me a ridiculous amount of texts and left ten messages. But as far as I know, she hasn’t called the National Guard to come find me yet, so that’s a plus.

I’m sure the only reason that hasn’t happened is because she believes I’m with Scott.

“Hey! Did your new husband keep you so busy that you couldn’t send any pictures of the wedding to your older sister?” Her voice is animated and excited, with a tiny hint of annoyance mixed in. My stomach spins. “You know how much I hated not being able to make it. I was waiting for pictures.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. But honestly, you didn’t miss much.” I giggle awkwardly, a knot forms in my throat. “Except maybe Scott telling me we were a mistake and he couldn’t go through with marrying me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Genevieve shouts, her voice echoes throughout the bathroom.

“Nope, not kidding.” My throat tightens, and tears threaten to spill. “He did that. With a room full of strangers.”

“Oh, Christy. I’m so so sorry. Is he still alive? Cause if he is, it won’t be for long. I will make sure to hunt him down—”

“Gen, can we leave it be?” I cut her off and try to calm her down. “Just the thought of coming home and everyone finding out what happened is enough to take in. I’d hate to have to bail my sister out of jail and find her a defense attorney in the same week.”

I push my hand through my damp hair and sigh.

“I can’t make any promises.” The frustration lacing her tone tells me she won’t go seeking out Scott, but he better steer clear of her if he knows what’s good for him. The corner of my lip lifts at her protectiveness. “Did he at least have the decency to book a separate room for himself last night?”

“I’m not sure what he did. I haven’t seen him since he walked out before the wedding ceremony.”

“Wait, he left you?” Genevieve’s voice is strained, and every word gets louder as she continues, “In Vegas? By yourself?!”

I suck in a deep breath and slowly exhale.

“Kit! You could’ve died. Someone could’ve taken you. How—”

“I could’ve gotten married…” I chuckle softly, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Still in complete disbelief that an entire night has been wiped from my memory. I don’t remember marrying Beau, and I definitely don’t remember kissing him.

Blah. I really wish I could remember the kissing part.

“Wait, what?!” Genevieve utters. “I’m confused. I thought you said Scott left you…”

“He did.”

“But then, who would you marry?” Genevieve’s bewilderment is comical. This entire situation is a bit humorous. You know, except for the part where I got married. For real. To a man I haven’t seen in a very long time. Not funny.

“Apparently, Beau.” Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I head out of the bathroom and sit on the bed before throwing myself back.

A hint of Obsession surrounds me and a surprise sense of longing fills me.

What if it was Beau that I originally came here to marry?

“Beau? Who’s Beau? I feel like I’m walking around a maze in circles.”

Gen’s voice brings me back to the present and a small rumble moves through my body at an image of her walking around in circles. Before I know what’s happening a hysterical laugh bubbles out of me.

It’s official, I’m losing it.

“Beau,” I force out, wiping a tear from my face. “Beau Matthews.”

“Kit, you’re not making any sense. You haven’t seen Beau in…nooooo!” Genevieve’s voice sounds guttural before raising an octave. “He was in Vegas yesterday for a game, wasn’t he?!”

Putting a palm on my forehead, I nod. “Yup. Great timing, huh?”

“Sounds like serendipitous timing.” I roll my eyes. Here she goes with the whole fate thing. My sister is a huge believer in the ‘there-are-no-coincidences’ and all that ‘woo-woo’ stuff. “I want all the details. Tell me what happened from the moment you saw him.”

“I woke up having the most amazing, realistic dream I’ve ever had in my entire life, and he was in it. But then…”

“But then…” Genevieve repeats, waiting for my next words.

“I woke up.”

“Kitttt,” she groans. “Why do you take pleasure in torturing me?”

She’s not wrong. I do thoroughly enjoy being dramatic, but this getting married thing….I’m still trying to process.

Beau’s gray eyes staring back at me, the five o’clock shadow on his chin, his lips. Oh man, his lips.

“You woke up, and then what?” I forgot that Gen was still on the phone. “Then what?!”

“Beau was staring at me, holding out a cup of coffee.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. WAIT!” I cover my mouth to keep the giggle wanting to bust out. I can’t believe I’m amused by this when, just a few hours ago, I wanted to cry. Maybe it’s because of how I felt when he held me and told me he would fix it. We’ll get a quick annulment, and no one will be the wiser. “But what about the whole ‘how-you-got-married-part?’”

“Oh that!” I wave a hand in the air and shrug. Heat filling me. “I forgot.”

“You FORGOT?!” Genevieve parrots, and this time, I do laugh out loud. I can’t help it. The genetics between us are strong. I would love to have a replay of me this morning with Beau. I’m pretty sure it would be almost identical to how my sister is acting now.

“Yeah,” I grumble. “I have this teeeeny-tiny problem of not remembering much after my marriage fiasco.”

“Beau left you there, too?” Genevieve growls on the other end of the line, reminding me of one of my four-legged clients who isn’t thrilled to be visiting me. I need to make sure I handle her with care.

“No. Beau would never do that.” The certainty I have at that awareness surprises me.

I hear her softly count to ten before she calmly asks. “What did Beau say happened?”

“He asked me what I remembered.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and play with the belt on the robe I’m wearing. “When I said nothing, he told me I gave him a very…umm…enthusiastic greeting. That his entire team got to witness.”

“An enthusiastic greeting?”

“I kissed him, Gen!” I squeak, my face heating. “Like really kissed him. In front of everyone.”

“Well, better late than never.” Pulling the phone from my ear, I stare at the screen, my mouth hanging open.

Did she just say better late than never?

“Better late than…what?”

“Kit, he always had a thing for you.” My stomach flips, and I swallow against the wad of cotton that’s stuck in my throat. “Don’t you remember how he would stare at you?”

“Nooo. I mean, yeah. But that was so that he could tease me,” I say dismissively, ignoring the silly grin, trying to escape. “Like when I would put my lip balm on, and he would stare before saying something like, ‘How many layers do you need?’ or ‘Ewww, cherry!’”

Genevieve giggles. “You still do that! And no. That wasn’t about teasing you.”

“Yes, it was,” I declare. “He did it all the time.”

“Kit, you putting on the amount of lip balm you do is ridiculous—”

“Hey!”

“ Buuut he said it because it drew attention to your lips.” Unconsciously, I lift a finger to the organ we’re talking about. “And because your face would scrunch up while your eyes got this fiery glint in them. It was easy to see he couldn’t resist himself. Or you.”

“If that’s true, then why was he dating Luna?”

“First, they were talking and had gone on a few dates. They weren’t dating, dating. Second, he broke things off with her immediately after you had that little talk.”

“I don’t believe you.” I stubbornly cross my arms over my chest and work to push away the gigantic surge that just shot through me. “Why didn’t he come and talk to me? Why did he just let me leave town without saying a word?”

“You don’t remember how many times he called or texted you? What about him showing up at Harris Teeter so often while you were working that people thought he worked there, too?”

“Of course, I remember. I just thought he was taunting me.” That time in my life is crystal clear. Every time Beau showed up around me, I saw red. I felt like I was a joke to him. I was embarrassed and hurt when I thought Beau Matthews, the Beau Matthews, would actually be interested in dating me .

For years, I acted like he annoyed the bejesus out of me, and sometimes, he truly did. But most of the time, everything about Beau made me feel alive.

The gruffness of his voice made my knees weak. His breath, when he whispered stupid things in my ear, sent chills down my spine. That smirk he would give me just as he would throw a zinger at me, heart-melting.

That night, in the park, something changed between us. For the first time, we weren’t trying to one-up each other; we were just enjoying each other’s company. When he told me he liked me and wanted to see where things could go, I nearly floated away. Excitement running through me.

But then I stopped at Circle-K on the way home, where I overheard Luna talking about the two of them going to the movies the next day.

My emotions took a swan dive into the whirlpool that was my stomach. After that I wasn’t about to hear anything he had to say. Or what anyone else was saying, for that matter.

“He wasn’t taunting you.” Genevieve’s words cause my pulse to race. “But that’s neither here nor there now, right?”

“Right,” I say, trying to sound confident in my decision. “His attorney is going to call me, and we’re going to get an annulment.”

“Problem solved.” I can hear Genevieve brushing her hands together. “Sounds like it was a crazy time.”

“Yeah. Crazy indeed.” I pull the phone away from my ear, putting Gen on speaker phone. Peeking at my texts, I see Beau’s number.

Unknown Number:

Beau Matthews

A small smile tugs at my mouth at his text being just his name. Like I could ever forget who he is.

“Did you hear me?” Gen asks.

“No, sorry.”

“Do you need a ride home from the airport?”

“No, I’m good. I have a driver coming to pick me up.” At that second, a text confirms that my driver will indeed be meeting me at the airport at my arrival time. “Let me go and pack. I’ll call when I get home.”

“Sounds good,” she teases. “Mrs. Matthews.”

Before I can respond, she hangs up. But the butterflies flying around my stomach keep me busy for a few hours afterward.