Okay, that tactic failed. She had to try something else.
Brent reached the upstairs landing, and the door to the bridal suite lay dead ahead.
No time like now.
Hope dramatically dropped her arm against her forehead. “Oh. Ooh. Oh, oh-no.”
His brow creased as he opened the door. “Sweetheart, what is it?”
“I think I might be coming down with another headache.”
“Poor baby.” He frowned. “Did it come on suddenly?”
“Yeah. No. I mean, I felt a little twinge earlier. It’s probably been brewing all day.”
“I wish you’d said something earlier.”
“I didn’t want to ruin the party.”
Brent carried her over the threshold, and Hope moaned miserably.
“You really are feeling terrible, aren’t you?” He set her down on the bed with a concerned look. “Maybe you should lie down for a while.”
“Yes. No.” She started to recline, then immediately popped back up, hopping off the bed.
Brent and beds were a bad mix. Bad, bad, bad.
“What I mean is, I better take some meds first.”
“I have acetaminophen in my suitcase,” he offered.
Hope’s suitcase sat on a stand in the corner. “That’s okay,” she said, rummaging around inside it. “I have a prescription. The only thing is…” she said, thinking fast. “It makes me really, really sleepy.”
She pulled a face, and Brent’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.”
She could tell he was trying to figure out his next move. He poured her a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. There was wine and a cheese plate, too. She grabbed gobs of stuff from her suitcase, like her toiletries bag and more comfortable clothing. She was designing a plan.
Arghhh. Hope wanted to kill Jackie for putting her in this predicament.
She also wanted to have her own head examined for going along with it.
She’d married her sister’s fiancé. Well, actually—on paper—her husband.
Downright married him—with rings, I dos, and everything.
Not to mention that fiery kiss.
One way or another, Hope was going to survive this.
Somehow, Jackie and Brent would, too.
Then it would all be okay. Sure it would.
Still, in the back of Hope’s mind, a gazillion doubts were crowding in.
How could things be okay, when Brent had fallen in love with her instead of her sister? What about the mess Hope had made by falling in love with him? And not just him—his entire family? Nobody could ever know the truth. Not with the tangled web she and Jackie had weaved.
The only way to get out of this now was to power through until tomorrow.
Somehow. With Brent.
And without having him land in the same bed.
Hope’s tension spiked.
Oh, sure. That’s sounds totally doable.
Brent tried to hand her the water, but she dashed away from him. “I think I’ll go and change first.”
“O-kay.” Poor Brent almost looked like he’d been experiencing whiplash. Good thing he hadn’t been privy to the manic thoughts in her brain.
She glanced around the room, wondering where the bathroom was.
He seemed to read that thought, at least, because he pointed to a door. “That way.”
Chapter Twenty
Brent sat in a chair by the table, feeling a little stunned. He’d poured himself a glass of red wine and served himself a few chocolate-covered strawberries for no other reason except that they looked delicious. He honestly wasn’t hungry, but he figured he should eat something in case he needed the energy later. This was their wedding night, so he was hoping that things would improve so he and Jackie could enjoy it. If it didn’t, though, they would always have Bermuda, and then—happily—the rest of their lives.
She’d only been gone five minutes when Jackie returned, still wearing her wedding dress.
“Is something wrong?” he asked when her pretty lips took on a pout.
“It’s the laces,” she said, motioning behind her. “They must have knotted somehow. I’m afraid I can’t get the bow undone.”
“Ah,” he said, standing. “No worries. I’m happy to help with that.”
She shuffled over to him, turning her back, and anticipation skittered through him. Given where everything started, this was some surprise, being in love with his wife. And it wasn’t one-sided, either. He’d seen the look in Jackie’s eyes during the ceremony. There was no faking real love like that. She was crazy about him, and he was crazy about her. Not only that—they were married.
Brent carefully untied the bow at the waistline of her lace-up dress, thinking this felt awfully sexy. Him slowly undressing his bride. He was bummed about her headache, though, so he would hold those thoughts for later.
The knot beneath the bow was really snug, but he gradually worked it free; then, one by one, he began loosening the laces.
Okay, he had to be careful here, because this was a very exciting dress.
Especially as it had begun revealing telling glimpses of what lay underneath.
Like…
Brent blinked in shock. “What…what is that?”
She was wearing some kind of industrial-strength girdle. It looked prehistoric. Like something his grandmother might wear.
“Oh.” She spun on her heel with an embarrassed flush, gathering up her dress. “Just a little wedding dress undergarment. All the brides wear them.” Then she hurried into the bathroom, leaving Brent’s sexy fantasies doused in a hearty dose of ice water.
…
After a while, Brent heard the bathroom door pop open. He looked up from the laptop that rested on his knees and slammed back against his chair. Jackie had emerged in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and her entire face was caked in shiny green goo.
His head spun as he tried to recall if he’d actually downloaded their boarding passes to his phone, but at the moment his short-term memory was shot. “Wow.” He tried for something more, but all he got the second time was the same word, uttered more vehemently. “Wow.” He downed a sip of his wine, then asked, croaking, “What is that?”
“Mother of Earth Mud Mask.” She smiled, and her whole face crinkled into deep grooves, making her look like a very ancient Gila monster.
“I…I see,” he responded, willing himself not to judge. All women supposedly kept beauty secrets. Of course, he’d heard about this. He’d just never expected to see them. Certainly not on his wedding night. “Well, um…will that help your headache?”