“Kenna, baby, I’m so sorry.” Rip holds me tighter, and I’m grateful for him at this moment. His strong arms give me a sense of security, and that’s a feat considering my world just tilted on its axis. The fact that we’re naked is never too far from my mind, and I know we need to talk about it. And we will, but not this minute.
“We have to go,” I say, crawling off his lap. I rush around the room, picking up my clothes from last night, I swallow hard, and I need to brush my teeth. I could really use a shower, but there’s no time. “I’m never drinking again,” I mutter under my breath.
“Hey, it’s me.” I hear Rip say into the phone. I’m sure he’s talking to Laramie or Colby. “We’re heading back today. Harold had a heart attack. Agnes just called. No, I got us on the next flight out. She’s… as good as can be expected. Yeah, I’ll let you know.” He hangs up the phone and comes to me, wrapping his arms around me once again. “What can I do?”
God, he feels good with his arms wrapped around me, skin to skin.
“Nothing. I—” I stop and look up at him. “I don’t know why we’re naked in my hotel suite, but I don’t have time to dissect that right now. Thank you for getting me on a flight home. You don’t have to come with me. I don’t want to cut your trip short too.” I’m rambling as my mind races to catch up with what’s happened since the shrill ringing of my phone woke me.
“Hey.” He places his index finger under my chin so that we’re eye to eye. “I want to be where you are, McKenna. Lean on me. Let me help you and your family through this.”
“I’m scared,” I confess.
“I know, baby. I know.” He pulls me into his chest. I want him to tell me that everything is going to be okay, but I’m glad he’s not. I don’t need false assurances, and I know that neither of us knows how this is going to turn out. I just pray that Gramps makes it through this. He has fight in him. I know it. I just hope it shines through at this moment.
Moving from Rip’s arms, I continue to get dressed. I glance over my shoulder to see him doing the same. He has a large white envelope in his hand, and a sad smile is tilting his lips. I don’t have time to ask him what’s in that envelope that would make him smile. I have to finish packing. “Thank you for this,” I tell him.
“Don’t ever thank me for taking care of you, McKenna.” His tone is soothing, but there’s an undercurrent of scolding to his tone.
It’s not his job to take care of me, but I’m grateful he’s doing so.
Running my hands over my face, I try to regroup. I don’t know how we ended up here together, and my brain is too foggy to recall much of the latter part of the night. Slowly, I turn to face Rip. “What did we do?”
“The details are fuzzy, but from what I remember, we spent an incredible night together.”
“W-What?” I whisper.
“I made love to you, McKenna.”
I close my eyes, trying to remember last night, and all I can remember is Rip and me dancing, getting closer as the night wore on. I don’t recall coming back to my room. This isn’t real.
“Tell me you’re joking.”
His brown eyes bore into mine. “No. I’m not joking. Making love to you is not a joking matter.” His voice is tight, yet his eyes are still soft as they take me in.
“I’m sorry. I—” I don’t know what to say. What does one say to the man she’s always wanted when she finds out that they finally slept together after a drunken night in Vegas?
“Stop.” His voice is firm. “We can talk about this on the plane or after we land and see your grandfather. Right now, you need to get moving. We still have to stop at my suite and grab my bags before we head to the airport.”
“Rip—” I try again but stop when he advances, his long legs carrying him toward me.
“Baby, we can talk about this, about us later. Right now, all that matters is us making that flight. I promised you and your gram that I would get you home, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” He surprises me when he bends and places a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Finish doing what you need to do. I’m going to call downstairs and order a cab.” He walks back to the bed, slides into his shirt, picks up his phone and the white envelope, and walks out of the room.
What’s in that envelope? Wait… I slept with Rip!
Shaking out of my stupor, I rush to the bathroom to freshen up quickly before pulling on some clothes and throwing everything into my suitcase haphazardly. I make a quick sweep of the room to ensure I didn’t miss anything and turn for the door to find Rip with his hand held out for me.
“I’ll take that.” He grabs my suitcase handle. “You all set?”
“I think so.” My head is still fuzzy from last night, from hearing that Gramps had a heart attack, and the thought that this man, this handsome, kind, caring man, my best friend’s older brother, was inside me last night. If I had more time, I’m sure I’d be freaking the hell out, but there’s no time. My grandparents need me.
Settling into first class back to Texas, I sigh with relief as the plane taxis down the runway. We’ll be home in a few hours. I hate we’ll be out of touch during that time. I called Gram before we boarded the plane, and she said he was in surgery. Closing my eyes, I send up a silent prayer that he’s okay. Please let him be okay.
“Ma’am.” I hear Rip say softly. “Can I have a blanket for my girlfriend?” he asks.
My girlfriend.
I want to open my eyes and tell her he’s joking, but I decide to pretend to sleep instead. We had sex last night. When we were waiting to board, I’d asked to see what was inside the envelope. He handed it to me without complaint. Inside were pictures of us standing outside of our hotel in front of the fountain. Neither one of us are looking at the camera. Instead, our eyes are locked on one another. There was also a picture of our entire group with Elvis, standing outside of a wedding chapel. My heart rate kicked up thinking about marrying him for real.
The seven-year-old me would be giddy with excitement to be married to Rip Callahan. Who am I kidding? He’s everything, including my best friend’s brother. Just because we slept together doesn’t mean I can fantasize about forever with him. I’m an adult. We had sex, that’s it. This too shall pass and all that.
I feel the heaviness of the blanket as warmth surrounds me. His lips press against my temple. “Sleep, beautiful,” he says softly. Unable to hide any longer, I open my eyes to find him with his head resting against the seat, turned to face me. “Sorry if I woke you.”
“You called me your girlfriend.”
His hand reaches out and rests against my cheek. “You caught that, did you?”
“Do drunken hookups really count as a relationship?” I ask.
Something flashes in his eyes. “It wasn’t just a hookup.” There’s no room in his tone for arguments.
“We should, you know, just pretend it never happened. Just let it pass.”
“Let it pass?” He raises his eyebrows in question.
“Yes, in a few days, life will be back to normal. We were both under the influence of alcohol. It happens. No reason for either of us to feel guilty. You definitely don’t need to feel as though we need to be in a relationship because of it.”