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“Absolutely not,” Luke says, and I let my breath out in a rush, relieved.
Paul laughs a little, though it sounds weak. “I didn’t mean anything, man. I only thought the four of us could have some fun together. Celia’s extremely hot, you clearly hit the jackpot, and I’d say I did too, although I might be biased… Why not share the wealth a little, you know?”
“Because I’m greedy,” Luke responds without missing a beat. “While I agree with you—she is amazing—I’d never share Celia. Not with anyone.”
There’s a tense silence, but I don’t even notice, because I’m too busy feeling a rush of relief. I realize I’ve been standing in the doorway, letting the heat and steam out of the room, and I step inside fully, pulling the door shut behind me. I step over to the bench where the boys are sitting just in time to witness them hugging, Luke slapping his friend’s back.
“Sorry, man, I’m sorry, that was out of line,” Paul is saying.
“Don’t worry about it,” Luke says, and then his eyes flash to mine. “Celia. How did spa day go?”
“Great,” I say, unable to keep the stupid, wide grin off my face at hearing him defend me like that, when he didn’t even realize I could hear him. I’d never share Celia. Never, he said. Not just “not for this weekend.” I can hardly breathe; my head is spinning from so much happiness—not to mention from the steam is here.
I plop down next to Luke and rest a hand on his thigh, and he immediately wraps an arm around my shoulders, protective and comforting all at once. “How was your guys’ day so far?”
“Massages were excellent,” he says. “The steam room, I’m not so sure about.”
Paul leans around him to nod. “You know, I think the steam is getting to my head, actually. I’m going to go pop out for a minute, try and clear it.”
Luke relaxes the moment his friend leaves, holding me closer against his side. I snuggle into him, unable to repress my smile any longer, and rest my head on his shoulder. “I kind of like it in here,” I say, and I can hear the smile in his voice when Luke says, “Me too. Now, anyway.”
12
At sunset, we join the hotel crowd on the beach just below the cliffs where the building sits. There’s a huge bonfire already going by the time we get there, since after sundown it tends to get a bit chilly on the waterfront. The sun hasn’t set quite yet, but it’s starting to turn orange, and painting the wisps of clouds along the horizon bright pink as it goes.
The hotel bar sent down a cart to set up, along with a bartender and beach themed cocktails. I order a piña colada inside an actual coconut. Meghan and Paul toast us with theirs, and the four of us walk down to the water to dip our toes in. As usual, the Pacific’s water is frigid, but it’s a nice shock to the system, especially after the walk across the hot white sand.
We chat and smile, until Meghan complains that her feet are getting too cold. She and Paul promise to save us a spot near the fire, and they head back up, leaving me and Luke alone with the lapping waves. We walk back a few paces from the water’s edge, and he spreads out the jacket he brought with him for me to sit on. He just sits straight down on the sand himself.
“It is beautiful here,” I say, sipping my drink. He takes a long drink of his and nods.
“It is,” he says, but his eyes never leave my face. He doesn’t even seem to notice the setting sun or the beach around us. Nothing but me. It makes a curl of pleasure swirl through my body. I can’t help it. I start to smile, broad and unstoppable.
His words from earlier have been stuck in my head all day. I’d never share Celia. Does that mean what I think it does? That there really is something between us, that this whole thing is real. Luke isn’t just playing around—or maybe he started out playing around, on account of the silly bet. But now he isn’t. I know it, just as suddenly and surely as I know that what I feel for him is more than just a silly office crush, too.
We know each other. We get along and have for a year. And now, we both know there’s more to it than just flirtation. There’s real chemistry here, and real feelings, too.
He leans in to kiss me, and my toes curl in the sand, even as I slide one hand up to bury it in his hair. This time his kiss is soft and slow and sweet. So tender it makes my heart ache with want. When we break apart, both our faces are flushed, even redder than the setting sun is currently painting them.
We linger like that, foreheads pressed together, gazes locked, as the sun dips below the horizon. All around us on the beach, we hear people cheering for the sunset. But it almost feels like they’re cheering for us, like this moment is a little slice of what our life together could be like, if we made this more than just a one weekend affair.
It makes my head swim with happiness. It makes me want more. And I think Luke does too.
“This weekend…” He hesitates. Tries again. “Celia, I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate everything about you.”
I smile at him, cupping his cheek. “Isn’t that what wives are for?”
He smiles back and tilts his head to one side to plant a slow kiss right in the center of my palm. “I just hope I’ve been a good enough husband to make up for it.”
“Oh, more than enough.” I trail my hand down to his chest, and let my palm rest there, feeling his slow, steady heartbeat. “I could get used to this,” I whisper.
But between the wind and the waves, I’m not sure I spoke loud enough for him to hear me. His gaze has drifted away from mine, out over the waves, like he’s considering the newly set sun and the pink painted wisps of cloud that still hover just above the horizon.
We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, until I notice his drink is empty. Gently, I disentangle it from his fingers. He sees what I’m doing and moves to stand. “Let me,” he says. “Do you need another?”
But I shake my head, already halfway to my feet. “I’ll go. Same again?” I wiggle his empty beer, and he nods. Unable to hide my smile, which feels stupidly wide, stretching practically from ear to ear, I jog back across the sand toward the bar set up, my heart fizzing with happiness.
This weekend is the start of something. I just know it is.
When I finally reach the bar, Paul is already in line there. I look around for Meghan and find her chatting to some girls near the firepit, waving her drink around to demonstrate some point. Paul waves and smiles as I approach. “Luke sending you on drink duty?” He shakes his head and tsks. “What a lazy husband you’ve got.”
I snort. “Nah, I volunteered for this one. Needed to stretch my legs.” I fall into line behind him after depositing my empty glasses on the bar. I feel awkward for a moment, aware of Paul’s eyes on me, and remembering his comments earlier. But he apologized to Luke already, and he didn’t mean anything bad I’m sure. He just wanted a foursome, that’s all.
Still, it makes my cheeks flame thinking about it, especially now that we’re alone in line. But it also reminds me that I owe Paul. After all, without him, none of this would have happened.
I check over my shoulder. Meghan still seems engaged in her conversation. I remember how the guys didn’t discuss the bet in front of her and think I should probably stick to that. But for now, since it’s just me and Paul… “Hey, I owe you a thank you, Paul.”
He glances at me, eyebrows lifted in confusion. “Oh? What do you mean?”
“Well, if it wasn’t for your and Luke’s little bet, I don’t know that I ever would have wound up here with him.” I glance down at the ring sparkling on my finger, aware that I need to tread carefully. I can’t let him know we only pretended to get married for the bet. But if he thinks that’s why we moved things along a little more quickly, well…
But when I glance back up, I find Paul frowning at me in the dimming evening light. “What bet are you talking about?”
“You know.” I wiggle my wedding ring. It sparkles in the distant bonfire light. “When you two bet on which one of you would get married first?” He opens his mouth, but I hold up a hand to stave him off. “Now, I’m not saying Luke and I wouldn’t have gotten married otherwise, of course. Just, I think having that bet in the back of his mind made him a little more open to the idea. We probably wouldn’t have gotten as close to one another as quickly as we did, otherwise.” Even if it did still take a whole year of me mooning after him at work for him to notice.
But Paul is still frowning at me, eyebrows knit in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Celia,” he says slowly, as though I’m the one acting crazy.
It sinks in, little by little. Slow enough that I feel crazy too, gaping at him as my mind whirs. “You mean…” I clear my throat. “You and Luke never, um… never bet that you’d get married before the other one?”
He shakes his head. “No. Sorry, Celia. Maybe you’re confusing me with another of his friends?”
But I’m not. I know I’m not. It’s the whole reason Luke invited me on this weekend. The whole reason he’s had me pretending to be his wife this whole time. It was all because Paul was here. At least, so he claimed.
What is going on?
13
I leave the drinks line, unable to pretend everything is normal. Vaguely, behind me, I can hear Paul calling out after me, asking if I’m okay. I just wave and shout over my shoulder that I’ll be right back.
