First Comes Marriage (Aster Bay #3)

Chapter Eight

Sebastian hardly spoke to Sabrina in the hours after they left the hotel, sitting next to her in the airport terminal in stony silence. Sure, he’d grunted in the affirmative when she asked if he wanted a coffee and managed to grate out a word of thanks when she’d handed him his Starbucks, but that was the extent of it. His gaze hardly lifted from his phone screen.

Meanwhile, Sabrina couldn’t bring herself to look at her phone at all. When the buzzing and pinging of the incessant notifications and missed calls reached a fever pitch, she’d simply turned it off. Which meant she couldn’t play any of her favorite match-three games during their interminable wait for their flight home, but it also meant she didn’t have to see her mother’s name flashing across the screen every three minutes or the nonstop string of text messages from Holly, each one more incensed than the last. If she’d thought her family had been disappointed in her when she’d filed for divorce, she could only imagine what they must think of her after a quickie Vegas wedding to her sister’s ex-fiancé.

But who had time to deal with her family’s total meltdown over her Vegas misadventures when there was a whole flight, complete with possible impending death, to obsess over?

When at last it was time to board, Sebastian grabbed her bag without a word, hauling it down the jetway along with his own and hoisting it easily into the overhead bin. Sabrina didn’t know what to do with this grumpy chivalry. Now that she knew how he kissed, the way he tugged on her hair as he positioned her exactly where he wanted her, now that she knew how it felt to sleep in his arms, she found herself reading into every word, every gesture.

And when the plane jolted as it began taxiing down the runway and her hands gripped the armrests for dear life, she didn’t know how to feel about the fact that Sebastian pulled her hand into his own, twining their fingers together. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even look at her, but the reassuring strength of his grasp combined with the almost absent-minded way his thumb skated over the wedding band on her finger twisted her up inside more than any cross-country flight ever could.

They sat that way for hours, her hand in his, until she could no longer take the silence.

“Sebastian?”

“Hmm?”

“We’re married,” she whispered.

Strange how that word set off an avalanche in her brain, burying her beneath all the promises she’d made to herself when she filed for divorce from Jordan, all the things she swore she’d never do again.

“Oh, God, what were we thinking?”

He glanced at her, his eyes scanning her face for…she didn’t know what. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, looking away.

“What does that mean? Take care of it?”

“I’ll call my lawyer when we get back to Aster Bay. With any luck, it’ll be annulled by the end of the week.”

She blinked helplessly as his words settled between them, her stomach lurching. He was going to walk away, just like that.

What did you expect? This was some stupid ploy to piss off Holly that got out of hand. You were never supposed to end up married to the guy.

She knew it wasn’t a real marriage, not like the one he had wanted with her sister, not like the one she’d thought she had with Jordan. Her breath caught, lungs burning as she willed herself not to cry at the sudden realization that he may have married her, but he never wanted her. It was all a mistake, a stupid, drunken mistake and, despite his confusing as hell chivalry, none of it was real. Not the kissing or the moments when he’d looked at her like…well, it didn’t matter what she’d thought she saw in those looks. It wasn’t real, and in only a few days it would be like none of it had even happened.

Why did that thought hurt so much? It’s not like she had planned on marrying him. It’s not like they were in love. They didn’t even know each other anymore.

Oh, God, I’m going to be twice divorced before I hit thirty-five.

Could she even survive another divorce? The last one had left her barely scraping by, a hollowed-out shell of her former self, without a husband, without a home, without the studio she’d worked tirelessly to build. What would she lose this time? Did she even have anything left to lose?

“Breathe, Sabrina.” His voice was soft, like the whisper of distant thunder. Her eyes went to his, darting between them as she felt the edges of her panic beginning to close in again, and this time it had nothing to do with the airplane. “Breathe,” he commanded.

She drew in a breath, her ribcage aching, as though more than her pride was bruised, as if her skin would turn purple and green in the days to come, painting her with the proof of a pain she couldn’t explain. His hand tightened in hers, his icy blue eyes holding her rapt.

“I promise, it’ll be like it never happened.” His thumb drew circles on her palm between their clasped hands.

A startled burst of laughter pushed through her lips. He thought she was worried they wouldn’t get an annulment? That the idea of staying married to him had made her forget how to breathe, when all she could think about was how little she had left, how much harder it was going to be to lose him a second time around.

He was never yours to begin with, idiot. Not then and not now.

It’s not that she wanted to stay married—signing away half her life to another person wasn’t something she’d ever intended to do a second time. Of course, they would get an annulment or a divorce or whatever else people did in these situations. It’s not like he was actually her husband.

She wasn’t sure which hurt more: the fact she’d been reckless enough to get married again, despite all her promises to herself to stay single, or the idea of no longer being Sebastian Graham’s wife. Either way she was screwed. If they stayed married, she’d always wonder when it would fall apart, when the rug would be pulled out from under her and she’d lose everything all over again. And if they didn’t...

She tugged her hand out his grasp, folding her hands together in her lap and leaning against the wall of the plane to put a few inches of distance between them. Something flashed in his eyes that she couldn’t read, and he clenched his jaw as he pulled his own hand back, adjusting his suit jacket. The wedding ring felt heavy on her finger as the matching band of gold on Baz’s left hand glinted in the sunlight streaming through the plane window.

“You’re still wearing your ring.” A pathetic flutter of hope gasped for air in her chest.

He glanced at his hand as though it were a surprise, his lips pressing together in a tight line. He clenched his fist and turned that cold stare her way. “So are you.”

“Where did we get wedding rings?”

He looked at her as though she were stupid. “Typically, when you marry someone—”

“No, I know that. But I mean, people usually buy the rings before the ceremony, like at a jeweler’s or something. Where did these rings come from?”

He looked at the ring on his own hand again before glancing at hers, huffing out a laugh. “Fuck if I know.” A hint of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth, tipping up his lips into an unfairly disarming smirk.

She laughed, an uncontrollable wave of mirth that wrapped around her as the absurdity of the situation finally registered. He chuckled, as though her laughter was contagious, and relaxed back against his seat.

“The fuck were we thinking?” he asked with a barely concealed grin.

“I’m pretty sure we weren’t thinking.” She rolled her head to the side to get a better look at him, the humor slipping away. He really was the most beautiful man she’d ever known. “If I was going to wake up married to anyone, though, I’m glad it was you.”

He met her gaze, his eyes holding hers. What she wouldn’t give to be able to read the look in his eyes.

“Sebastian, last night, when you kissed me...” His eyes dipped to her lips as if he was considering kissing her again. “I’m really glad you did.” He arched an eyebrow at her and waited for her to continue. “All those nights at the food pantry, when we’d stay late to finish stocking for the next day, I wondered what kissing you would be like.”

“You did?”

Had his voice gotten deeper?

“Mmhmm. But then you met Holly...” She shut her eyes, forced herself to take a breath.

Why did you bring up your sister?

“I didn’t know.”

“I know. You were always nice to me, but you didn’t look at me the way you looked at other women.”

“How did I look at you? ”

“Like I was an amusing kid.”

She swallowed, wet her lips with her tongue, watched him tracking the movement of her mouth. He really did have the prettiest eyes.

“And how do I look at you now?” he asked, pitching his voice low.

“Like maybe you’re glad about the kiss too.”

He took a slow breath, his eyes focusing on her hand, on the ring there, as he gathered his thoughts. Maybe she’d gone too far. Maybe she’d been misreading all the little touches and glances.

“You are a beautiful woman,” he said slowly. “And I am very attracted to you.”

Hope fluttered to life in her chest—wild, reckless hope—

“And that makes this more complicated.” Her heart sank. “The sooner we can get that annulment sorted out, the less confusing this will be. For everyone.”

A staticky voice came over the speakers announcing their final descent to Providence, the crackling words saving Sabrina from having to agree with Sebastian. For a moment there it had almost felt like they were friends again, like they could maybe even be more than friends.

But that was a dangerous line of thinking. The last person Sabrina needed to develop feelings for was her husband.

***

Sabrina only took a few steps off the plane, dragging her bag behind her, before Baz pulled the strap from her grasp and slung it over his shoulder.

“I can get that,” she protested as he strode down the jetway.

“So can I.”

She trotted after him, and he bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from smiling, though the warmth blooming in his chest was harder to ignore. He pressed the heel of his hand to his sternum under the guise of adjusting the strap of her bag, half convinced that he’d feel that warmth through his shirt.

“How are you getting back to Aster Bay? Do you want to split a cab?” she asked.

“Ethan’s picking me up. We can drive you back to your aunt’s.”

They stepped onto the escalator that descended to the ground level where Ethan would be waiting. As his friend came into view, Baz got his first glimpse of the piece of cardboard Ethan held above his head, letters scrawled in black marker reading “Mr. and Mrs. Graham.” Sabrina gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, where her eyes landed on her wedding ring and she let out a little squeak before shoving her hand into the pocket of her gray trousers. Baz was going to murder Ethan.

“Welcome home,” Ethan said with a grin.

“Get rid of that thing,” Baz barked.

Sabrina stumbled as she stepped off the escalator, and Baz’s hand shot out to steady her. Ethan eyed the movement, his smirk growing wider.

“Shut up,” Baz said. “We’re giving her a ride home.”

Ethan held out a hand to take Sabrina’s bag from Baz, but Baz batted it away and strode past him towards the exit, Ethan’s laughter following behind him.

“Where to?” Ethan asked once they were all settled in his truck.

“Mrs. Page’s,” Baz replied.

“Have you spoken to your aunt today, Sabrina?” Ethan asked.

“No,” she said, shooting a wary glance Baz’s way before asking Ethan, “Is she alright?”

“I’m sure she’s fine, but I got a call from Gavin who got a call from Mrs. White who’d heard from Mrs. Greene that your aunt was looking for a way to move your things into Baz’s condo before you arrived, as a sort of welcome home surprise,” Ethan said as he steered the truck out of the airport parking lot and onto the highway.

“What?” Sabrina squeaked. “Why would she do that?”

Ethan glanced at Baz in the rear-view mirror. “I assume because newlyweds typically want to live together, and not with their elderly aunts.”

“I’ll kill him,” Baz said, already firing off an incredulous text to Gavin.

“What was Gav supposed to do? Say no to Mrs. White?” Ethan scoffed. “Besides, you two are newlyweds, right?”

“That’s no one’s business but ours,” Baz grated out.

Ethan laughed. “Hate to break it to you, man, but when you put shit like that on the internet, it’s everyone’s business. Especially in Aster Bay. You should know that.”

The hell of it was, Baz did know. He knew better than anyone that keeping secrets in Aster Bay was futile. When he was seventeen, he’d skipped a shift washing dishes at the diner to take Cindy Parker on a date. Before he’d even gotten the chance to put his arm around her in the movie theater, half the town knew where he was. By morning he didn’t have a job at the diner anymore. And Cindy hadn’t posted a blow by blow of their evening online like Sabrina had.

Ethan caught Baz’s eye again in the mirror, the laughter fading away. “You should call your mom.”

Fuck. He hadn’t even thought about that conversation yet.

Baz nodded. “Let’s stop there first.”