Perfectly Wedded (Perfect Crush #1)

22. Vale

TWENTY-TWO

Vale

I t’s only the second time she’s fainted on me. The first happened at home, when she overexerted herself cooking dinner for the team. I should’ve known that today, despite how incredibly exciting it was, would be just as exhausting.

Seeing her idiot ex only made her feel worse, because that’s what people who bring you down do. They remind you of all the ways you don’t measure up, even though in my world, she is the standard against which I measure all women.

That kiss only made my ache for her worse.

But thinking of kissing her doesn’t solve my problem now. Ever since the car accident, overexertion makes her prone to fainting. The doctor said that might never go away, even with medicine. It’s something I’ll have to expect, to plan for by building in time for rest. I should’ve given her more breaks, not pushed so hard. Her capacity to jump into things wholeheartedly will have to be curbed until we know what she can handle.

And I’ll have to be the bad guy who forces her into bed. Which isn’t all bad if I get to be in bed with her.

She lies on her back in the hotel, worrying her lip as I sit on the edge of the mattress, studying her .

“There’s nothing wrong with me now. I swear!” she begs. “Let’s go out.” She tries to get out of bed.

My hand lands on her shoulder, forcing her back down. “Oh, no you don’t. You should rest. I’ll watch you all night if I have to.”

“But I’m fiiiiiine,” she whines. “And I hate being treated like an invalid. It was a freak accident. My new medicine is working. I’ve never felt better!” She swings her legs over the bed, but I catch her ankles and carefully place them back on the bed.

“Nice try, but no. You’re stuck here until tomorrow.”

She pouts, pushing out her bottom lip. “Not even for a date with you?”

“You’re cute, but I’m not giving in to your charms,” I say, crossing my arms.

“So I have charms now?” she asks, her face lighting up.

“So many you don’t even know about,” I assure her. “But don’t try to use them against me, Sloanie Baloney. Because the answer is still no. ”

She frowns before switching tactics. “I’ll tell you what I think it was. It wasn’t because anything is wrong with me. It’s actually your fault.”

“My fault?” I laugh, putting a hand on my chest. “How am I to blame?”

“It was that kiss,” she says, a playful smile curving her lips. “In Regency times, women always swooned over kisses. That’s how you know it was good.”

“Is that right?” I say, arching an eyebrow. “A compliment and a diversion to get me to say yes to going out? Well played, my lady.”

“The kiss was so good, it took my breath away,” she goes on.

“I agree. It was very good. But kissing doesn’t cause fainting. In the case of Regency women, it was overly tight corsets restricting their breathing that caused them to faint.”

She frowns. “I thought you wouldn’t know that. ”

I tap her nose with my finger. “I know a lot of useless things. I also know that you should rest.”

She bites her lip, thinking. “What if we stay here and do something fun?”

“Fun, as in, Sloan stays in bed?”

“No, the hot tub. For your back.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’m not sure that’s safe for you. Don’t hot tubs come with a warning about people fainting?”

Her eyes dance as she pokes me in the arm. “Even if I do, you’re a former lifeguard, so you can save me.”

I frown. “Not funny.”

“Come on! I want to do something fun, and this is a compromise. Just for a short time. You promised we would.”

“That was before the dinner cruise,” I remind her. “Are you sure you don’t feel dizzy anymore?”

She holds up a hand. “Nope. I’ll even walk a straight line to prove it. I probably could balance on the edge of the hot tub, I feel so good.” She heads toward the sliding door to the patio to prove it.

I grab her arm. “You will most definitely not.”

I pull her next to me on the bed and she links an arm through mine. “Then pretty please, let’s have a date in the hot tub. What do you say?”

She makes lazy circles on my chest and my heart rockets.

“Fine,” I say, sucking air through my teeth. I’m reluctant to leave her alone, but I have to since she needs to change into her swimsuit. “I’ll change in the bathroom. But leave the door unlocked, okay? Just as a precaution. I won’t come in unless you’re unresponsive.”

She nods, then stops me at the door. “Vale. Thank you. I’ll make sure it’s a night to remember.” Then she reaches up and gives me a kiss on the cheek, flashing me a flirty smile.

My heart knocks against my chest. Heaven help me, I can’t give in to her tonight.

The bedroom door is still closed when I finish changing, and I can hear her rummaging through her suitcase, which means she hasn’t fainted yet. I climb into the hot tub, keeping my back to the sliding door.

A few minutes later, the door slides open, and she comes out with a towel wrapped around her. From the look on her face, she’s debating whether she wants to drop the towel. I thought I’d made it clear how I feel about her, that her body is utter perfection to me, but apparently I’ve not made it clear enough.

“Do you need me to leave?” I ask. “Because I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me. Just for the record, since I’ve already seen you in a swimsuit and think your body is incredibly perfect, I’m hardly the problem.”

Her eyes flick briefly to me with a smile of gratitude before she looks at her bare toes. “The problem isn’t you. It’s me.”

“That sounds strangely like a breakup text.”

“It’s not. Just old baggage. Anthony was always so critical of my body since I wasn’t a size zero. And since my accident, it’s only gotten worse. I’m softer. Less in shape. It’s not that I care so much—the voice in my head still tells me I’m not good enough. That somehow I’ll never be enough.”

“Sloan,” I say gently, but firmly. “You’re so beautiful, and you don’t even realize it.” I wish she’d believe me. But even more, I wish she’d find the strength to believe it for herself.

She glances down at her towel. “I had no choice but to wear a different suit, since the swimsuit I wore snorkeling is still wet.”

“Is it more revealing?”

She nods. “A little.”

I cover my eyes. “Is this better?”

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

“You have ten seconds to talk yourself into it until I drop my hand.”

“Vale.” She peels my hand away, looks at me over the rim of the tub. “You don’t have to cover your eyes. I need to do this... for me. If I can’t be brave in front of my husband, I’ll never have the courage.”

The words my husband surge through me. In the past, she always used that word like it was part of the charade , but this time feels different. She’s starting to believe that our agreement is more than temporary.

She glances at her feet. “I’m trying to accept I have scars, even if they’re ugly.”

“Wait—what scars?” I ask, suddenly wondering how I don’t know about this.

“From the accident.” She pulls open her towel just enough for me to see a large scar that cuts across the side of her abdomen. “I stopped wearing this suit because of it. It used to be a favorite and I thought I’d wear it again someday, but I haven’t. I only threw it in my bag because I needed an extra. Then I tried it on tonight and saw my scar again and was afraid you’d find me...” She pauses. “Repulsive.”

“What?” I nearly choke on the word. “I would never think that. If you want to know the truth, I find you devastatingly attractive. Whatever worries you have about your body, that’s not the way I see you. I think you’re more beautiful with scars.”

She laughs in disbelief.

“Sloan,” I whisper. “If you knew the thoughts I have about you...” I shake my head, my voice gravelly and low. “You might not ever come near me again.”

“Really?” she asks with a furrowed brow.

“Yes, really .”

She tilts her head and studies me. “I didn’t know you felt...” Her voice drops off.

“Attracted to you?” I finish.

She nods.

“Well, you are my wife,” I say with a smile.

“Okay, husband,” she says, climbing the steps to the hot tub. “Move over and make room for me. ”

With a quick whoosh, she drops the towel and climbs into the hot tub without hesitating this time. Though I try not to gawk, I get a glimpse of her yellow-and-pink floral two-piece, which makes my heart trip and stumble. She’s gorgeous. And she’s my wife. My wife.

Those words will never grow old to me.

She slides under the water as the bubbles float around her shoulders. Above us, there’s a beautiful sky filled with moonlight and stars, and in the distance, music plays from a local club. She scoots closer to me in the hot tub, her arm brushing mine.

“I’m surprised you want to sit next to me,” I say. “After everything I admitted.”

Part of me wondered whether admitting my attraction would make her run scared the other direction.

“Vale,” she says slowly, her shoulders wet with droplets. “As your wife, I want to sit close to you, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, looking at her, “but you might have to take my mind off the fact that you’re close to me in that gorgeous swimsuit.”

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” she says, studying me.

“You know everything about me. Everything that’s important, at least.”

“I don’t. The Newlywed Game proved that.”

I lean my head on the back of the hot tub. “Okay, let me think. When I was ten, I rode my BMX bike off the roof of our house.”

Her eyes widen. “Tell me that didn’t end with an ER trip.”

I shake my head. “Not for me. But Brax wasn’t so fortunate.”

She grimaces. “Your poor mom. You’ve given her so much grief.”

“And gray hair,” I add. “At least I found a way to make her happy now that I married you. I think she likes you as much as I do. Given you’re my favorite person, that’s a lot. ”

Her face turns to mine like she doesn’t believe me. “She does?”

“You’re so much better than the previous dates I brought home. Most of them weren’t serious, but Mom was scared I’d end up with someone who only wanted me because I’m a professional athlete.”

Sloan tucks hair over her shoulder. “Well, I married you for your insurance, which isn’t any better.”

I shake my head. “It’s not the same thing. I wanted to marry you more than those other girls.”

“You’re a good person, Vale,” she says. “I feel really lucky to have you in my life.”

“I know you mean it as a compliment, but it feels like you’re putting me on a pedestal I don’t deserve. Or somehow, you think you’re not a good person. But you are. Even when you were laid up from your injury, you always found a way to make people feel like they belonged somewhere. You invited the team over for dinner or helped Jaz with one of the hockey team events. It’s like you know how to bring people together. That’s a gift.”

She plays with a strand of loose hair. “That’s because I’ve never felt like I belonged. So I had to create the family I didn’t have.” She stares into the dark sky. “After Mom died, I lost half of myself. Then Dad remarried, and it seemed like I finally had a shot at a family again. Things were good for a few years, until their marriage fell apart, and Dad just drifted off into the sunset, like a lone cowboy. He never thought about his responsibility to me.” She looks at the bubbles in the water, lost in her thoughts. “That’s why I like to have people around me. It feels like I’m getting back the thing I’ve lost. Even coaching makes me feel that way.”

“I can tell. Every time you come home from practice, you seem different,” I say. “You’re not just investing in your skaters to win, but because you care about them as humans. You treat them as equals. That’s special.” I put my hand on her face and turn it toward me. “You’re special.”

She shakes her head. “I talk too much. I’m loud and intense and my emotions are the same. I’m too much for some people. I think that’s why my dad never visits, honestly. He wishes I was different. More like him. Less like me.” There’s a slow ache beneath her words. Like she wishes she could fix the past—or herself. But there are some things you can’t change.

“I wouldn’t want you to be different,” I say, touching her chin so she’ll meet my gaze. “I like you the way you are. All your big emotions. Everything you say.”

She smiles. “You might not be saying that after we’ve been married a year.”

“Do you want to make a bet on that?” I lift an eyebrow.

She considers this. “No, because you’re a very patient man, Vale MacPherson. You just haven’t seen the worst yet.”

I laugh. “I don’t think there is a worst when it comes to you.” I sink a little deeper into the water so we’re on the same level. “It’s your turn to share an embarrassing story.”

“About what?”

“I want to know all the dirt on Sloan Summers.”

“You won’t find any,” she says overconfidently. “But you can try.”

“Okay, how many guys have you dated?”

She squints at the sky as she thinks. “Not many. Maybe three if you’re not counting first dates.” She looks at me and pokes me in the arm. “I’m not a famous hockey star like you.”

I scoff. “Three?”

“I know, it’s hardly any,” she says apologizing. “I’m not good at sticking with something, remember? And I’m really picky.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s the number,” I say, suddenly feeling protective of her. “That means you dated them longer. You probably even had feelings for them.”

“I’m not sure the feelings were mutual. Anthony was the longest at two years. The others were shorter. Maybe a year, if that.”

“A year?” I gasp, the jealousy growing in my chest. “That’s practically married! ”

She frowns. “Definitely not married.” She studies me for a moment, her mouth curving into an amused grin. “Wait a minute. Are you... jealous ?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m not jealous. I just can’t think about you with anyone else without becoming irrationally angry.”

“Vale,” she says. “That’s what jealousy is.”

“I know, and now I’m regretting asking you.” I run my fingers through my hair, sighing angrily. “I don’t even want another man looking at you ever again.”

“That’s impossible,” she says. “Just because I dated someone doesn’t mean I was in love with them. I thought I was with Anthony, but looking back, I realize it never really was. I just wanted it to be something more. And honestly, I felt like I never had a real kiss until today. Not even with Anthony.”

Now I’m the one who’s confused. I let out a hoarse laugh, rub the back of my neck. “What do you mean you’ve never had a real kiss?”

“I mean the kind of kiss you remember long after it happens. The kind that makes everything in you feel alive again.”

“What about those guys you dated before Anthony?”

She shrugs. “It always felt forced. Like I was playing a part. Doing it because it was expected. Tonight felt different, even though I know it was just to make Anthony jealous.”

I level my gaze. “It wasn’t just to make him jealous, Sloan.”

She frowns. “That was the agreement. You only kissed me because he was there to see it. The problem is, I felt confused, like I wasn’t just playing a role anymore. Because when you kiss me like that, I don’t want it to be for Anthony, or my sister, or anyone else.”

I stare at her in disbelief, my thoughts unraveling like a tangled thread. “I thought you wanted me to kiss you. I thought we were following the rules .”

She turns to me, her body facing mine. “We were, but then I realized something had changed. And I know I agreed to this, but things are different now. I don’t want you to touch me because of the rules. Or kiss me because someone’s there to see it. It’s too real for me. Which is why I can’t kiss you again. Not unless it’s for me and no one else.”

“There’s no one here now,” I say, my voice a low rumble. I move closer to her. “This time, it’s not for show.”

Then I take her face in both my hands and kiss her.

It’s swift. Messy. Breathless.

My hands slide down to her back, feeling the curves of her shoulder blades, the ridges of her spine, the dip of her waist.

The water spins and bubbles around us, the heat rising, the sweat prickling down our neck, along the curves of her shoulders.

In a ragged voice I pull away just enough to tell her between kisses, “I’ve wanted to kiss you every day since I married you. Every time I heard your laughter in the house. Every time you were close to me. Every night you were in bed alone.” I drop my head into her damp shoulder, leaving a kiss.

Her hands slide into my wet hair as she brushes my ear with her lips. She pulls back just a little, her breath in my ear. “Then why didn’t you?”

I straighten, so I can see her eyes. “I thought you’d only agree if there was a reason. If it was part of the charade.”

“Is there a reason now?” she asks, bewildered.

My hands cup her face. “Is it enough that you’re the only woman for me?”

She leans forward and answers yes with a kiss, her warm mouth on my lips, her body pressed to mine.

Everything feels like yes with her . Like it’s the way it’s supposed to be. Husband and wife, light and heat, while the whole world fades into night. I feel like I’ve swallowed a torch, my body lit from flame and heat.

We still haven’t made it clear what the future holds or how long she wants me in her life as her husband.

I’ve already made my decision.

She is my endgame. My wife.

I pull back, bracing her shoulders. “As much as I want you— and in case it’s not clear, I really want you right now—there’s something else I need to tell you. I want this to be real. Us, together, as husband and wife. I told you I’d hold to the marriage rules, but this is not an act.” My voice frays. “I’m not good at pretending with you. When I kiss you, I’m doing it because I want you. More than anything, I want to be married to you... but I’m also terrible at reading your mind and knowing if you feel the same. If what you want is us. ”

She takes my wrists, draws circles on the insides with her thumbs. “I know you’re what I want. And that I want to take things slow and figure it out. Even if that’s hard for me to do.”

I blink, recalibrate how this is going to work since my heart is bucking in my chest. “Take it slow. Figure it out,” I repeat, wondering if I’ve pushed too fast, too hard. “Whatever it takes for you not to give up on us.”

I slide back, giving her space, but she grasps my wrists. “That’s not what I meant.” She shakes her head, thumbs circling again. “I have the tendency to panic when things get hard. I run away, make rash decisions. But when it comes to you, everything in me wants to move fast. To lose myself in you. To fall hard and swift and give everything to you. And that scares me because that’s what happened with Anthony. When he didn’t stay, I didn’t know who I was anymore. I want to take things slowly so I don’t make the same mistakes, to learn how to stick around for the long haul, and stay instead of running away. But just because I need to take things slow, doesn’t mean I don’t want us.”

I nod, my voice scraping. “I know I’m not who you pictured yourself with. I’m nothing like Anthony. I don’t care what people think of me, except for you. Even though we’re really different, I won’t give up on us. So if you need me to go, to give you space tonight to think?—”

“Vale,” she cuts me off. “Don’t go.” She stills, her thumbs resting on the inside of my wrists. “I don’t need to think about it anymore. You told me you’re not staying in my bedroom until I ask you. Until I’m no longer afraid of what might happen between us.”

I wrap my arms around her, tugging her closer. The moment feels full, like any second the glass might overflow.

“This is me asking. Will you stay tonight?” Her hands climb to the back of my neck, stroke the curve of my shoulder. “I want you to hold me. As my husband.”

I touch her chin, brush my thumb over her lips before answering, “Anything for my wife.”