Made For Marriage Page 5

  Just then, a worker from the hotel appears and addresses Hugo. “Sir, are you a guest here?”

  “No. He ain’t,” says cocktail guy.

  Hugo puts up his hands. “No, he’s right. I’m not a guest here. I was just talking to my friend. I live down the beach—”

  The server cuts him off. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave if you’re not a guest of the resort, or else I will be forced to call security.”

  Hugo nods. “I got it. I get it.”

  I watch him walk out of the gated pool area onto the beach.

  “Hugo, wait.”

  He turns around and says, “If I had real money, I would show you what a real big romantic gesture is,” he says.

  And with that, he walks away.

  The hairy knuckled man has wandered away too, and soon Stella returns to the pool.

  Let’s go for a dip in the ocean,” I suggest. “I need to clear my head.”

  “Everything OK?” Stella asks.

  I nod. “Yeah. No. I don’t know. It’s been a weird morning.”

  Without another word, Stella slips her arm through mine and we wander out into the surf together. I dive into the waves head first, because there is nothing quite like sticking my head underwater to block out the silliness of the world around me.

  Chapter 15

  Hugo

  She looks like Venus emerging from the sea, and I feel like a perv.

  I’m home, dammit. I’m just trying to enjoy my day on my boat on the water, and she’s right there. I’m not trying to peep, but she’s ... right ... there.

  God, look at her. All wild hair and tanned curves, dripping in saltwater, and nearly naked in a brightly colored, barely-there bikini.

  Fuck me. The memory of holding her close to me, caressing those breasts, kissing those nipples, owning that incredible ass is slamming back into my memory. Even more precious is the memory of holding her as she slept.

  The bottom of her swimsuit is tied together with strings and all I can think is how easy it would be to take one string and give it one gentle tug.

  And take what’s mine.

  This is wrong.

  I’m going insane.

  And then I hear her laughing with her friend, and I remember how madly I love her sweet spirit. Right or wrong, I love this woman.

  And I have to have her.

  But she doesn’t want big gestures, she doesn’t want my undying admiration, and she doesn’t want to be rescued.

  I’ll sit here and wait until she’s ready to give me a chance. I can wait forever if I have to.

  Chapter 16

  Laney

  Well shit.

  This was supposed to be a sight-seeing day but the rain is coming down in buckets, so our crew decides to gather at Stella and Luke’s hut to play some Uno and wait out the rain.

  As I’m chopping fruit for a salad to snack on while we play, something feels off.

  I gather up my courage to ask the family if they mind if I invite a guest to join us. Hugo hasn’t bothered me in two whole days. He’s just there, on the deck of a barely-seaworthy sailboat in his marina, doing his best to mind his own business.

  And it’s killing me.

  Stella smiles. “I was wondering if you were going to invite him over at some point. Luke? You good with Hugo coming over?”

  “I already said my peace with my fist. If everybody else is good, I’m good,” Luke says.

  Before the next rainstorm hits, I squeeze in a beach run. When I make a detour to the marina to extend my invitation to Hugo, he accepts. He shows up an hour later, soaking wet, with a hostess gift of wine for Stella. I bite back the urge to tell him it’s only a game of Uno. The hostess gift is totally unnecessary but unsurprising, knowing this man the way I do.

  We sit down to start the game and I sit next to Hugo and listen as the girls explain the rules of this particular set of Minecraft Uno cards. “And when you see this symbol, the order is reversed. And if you get the Creeper card you pick three but you can use it as a wild card later…,” instructs Cynthia.

  I get the impression that Hugo already knows the rules of Uno, but he listens and smiles at the girls and asks intelligent follow up questions to make them feel like they are actually teaching him something. I feel my heart squeeze as I watch the way he interacts with them and doesn’t talk down to them.

  We’re about half way through the first hand when I notice something odd. When the middle child, Cameron, who sits on Hugo’s other side, plays a “take two” card against him, Hugo doesn’t lay, and nods to me to take my turn. The girls correct him in unison. “You can play a card if you want!” they say.

  Hugo looks confused. “But the rules of Uno say the player who has to draw cards loses his or her turn to play a card.”

  The girls shake their heads simultaneously and stare at him like that’s the most horrid idea they’ve ever heard.

  I touch his arm and explain, “No, in this house we play Compassionate Uno.”

  He gawks at me, and I almost have to laugh; I’ve never seen this look on his face before. He looks completely discombobulated.

  “What is Compassionate Uno?”

  Stella says, “Some people are sticklers for the rules. Not so much with us.”

  Hugo lays his cards on the table face down and takes a sip of his beer, then presses his thumbs into his eyes. “OK. This is just a little different from the way my family plays.”

  I brighten up. “Oh, did you used to play this when you were a kid?”

  He nods and swallows; boy, his Adam’s apple is doing a lot of work, for some reason. He gives a rueful laugh. “Yes, and they were ruthless.”

  Luke speaks next. “Yeah, we just let people lay cards if they are forced to draw, it’s no big whoop.”

  Hugo laughs again and shakes his head in wonderment as he lays down a card, like he’s being allowed to break some natural law of physics and he can’t believe it’s working.

  The game continues for some time, and it starts to look as if Hugo might win. When he lays down his second to last card, he forgets to say Uno. When he ends up winning this hand, the girls clap like mad. Cameron actually gets up and hugs him. “You did really good, I’m so proud of you, Mister Hugo.”

  He accepts the hug but it’s clear he feels a bit shocked. The look he gives me tells me he’s never once been hugged by a child and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. I shoot him a confident smile, because it’s the dearest thing I’ve ever seen.

  Suddenly, his face blanches. “Wait a minute,” he says. “I’m sorry, everyone. I forgot to announce Uno on my second to last card. I didn’t realize. I swear I wasn’t trying to cheat. We’ll have to call it a scratch for that hand.”

  Everyone looks around at each other and back at him. “Hugo, it’s fine. Like I said, we’re not sticklers,” Stella says.

  He protests and unfolds the rule sheet to read them out, pointing out that the winner must absolutely call Uno. “It’s the whole point of the game,” he says.

  I try to give him a reassuring smile, but I’m starting to get a little worried that he’s sounding a bit strange about all this. “Sweetie, it’s OK. We forgot to call you on it so you still win. That’s just how we do it.”

  Something snaps. Not in a bad way. The snap is somewhere deep inside; feelings are coming to the surface and he can’t identify what they are.

  “Yeah, you won, fair and square,” Cynthia offers.

  He smiles at her but his eyes look weird. “I’ll be right back,” he says, and before any of us can stop him, he bolts outside among the torrential raindrops.

  Stella looks at me. “What the heck was that about?”

  I shrug and shake my head. “I have no idea.”

  Luke is looking wary, and the girls have already moved on and are dealing our second round, including a fresh stack of seven cards for Hugo. Lucille is the only one of us who seems to know what is happening. “That boy wasn’t raised right,” she says.

 
Outside, the rain is starting to calm down, but Hugo is already half way down the beach. I sprint after him. “Hey,” I say, out of breath by the time I catch up. “What’s going on? What happened?”

  He turns to me. “I’m such an asshole. I’m not good enough for you people. I’m not good enough to be what you need me to be.”

  “No. No, I’m not going to let you do this. I’m not going to let you decide that over a game of fucking Uno.”

  He laughs. “Listen, I don’t know why I’m crying, but I for damn sure am not going to look like a pussy in front of that guy who already kicked my ass.”

  There’s a lot to unpack here. “Listen. Luke is already over it. That’s just Luke. And it kind of hurts me that you would insult my judgment. You are good enough. Also, don’t use that word to describe something you think is weak.”

  He shakes his head. “Sorry. But, you did have a one night stand with a con artist, so let’s just say your judgment is still in question.”

  “You can’t hurt me by throwing that back in my face. I’ve already forgiven both of us for that. And now it’s time to forgive yourself.”

  Hugo gnaws his bottom lip while continuing to shake his head in astonishment. “You’re all just too wholesome, I don't know how to act. I don't belong anywhere.”

  “How you act is, you come back inside and play another round of Uno, and play by our rules. And then later you join us on a hike at the nature preserve. You’re a human, not a robot. You can fit in here. You just have to give yourself some space.”

  “How are you finding it so easy to be so kind to me?”

  “Well... because I love you, silly.”

  Hugo turns all the way to face me. “Stop.”

  I shrug and give him a wan smile. “I can’t. Too late.”

  The way his eyebrows knit together, I can’t decide if it’s anger or concern. Either way, he cups my face and kisses me hard. “You can’t love me.” Another firm kiss.

  “Oh, but I do.”

  “Shut up,” he whispers, shutting me up with another kiss, this time not as firm but sensual and loving.

  “I will not shut up. You can’t make me.”

  “I can and I will,” he says, planting another kiss, this time licking inside my mouth, his tongue making me feel wonderful again for the first time in two years.

  “If that’s how you plan to shut me up, it’s only going to make me like you more,” I tease.

  He groans and pulls me flat against him, the rain slowing down even more. His hair is slicked flat against his face and I smooth it out of his eyes so I can look deep into them. “One more to make sure, love,” I say.

  He suctions our mouths together with an angry sounding grunt. Our tongues come together in a delicious wet tangle. My heart races when he plants his hands firmly on my hips.

  “Yep, still love you.”

  “Dammit, woman,” he rasps. Another kiss follows, combined with his thumbs applying firm strokes across my jawline and the back of my neck. I moan at the sensation of his tongue delving in deeper. “Fuck it, I love you too. Now what?”

  I circle my arms around his waist, and when I come up for air after the next round of kisses, I say, “We go back inside and finish the game. And then we see what happens after that.”

  Hugo seems overwhelmed with how nonchalant everyone is about his disappearing and reappearing act. We play a few more board games with the family until the weather clears up, and then, instead of going on a hike, I take Stella aside.

  “I think Hugo and I have some things to talk about.”

  She nods and gives me a hug.

  “I totally get that. I’m going to beg off the hike myself and have a nap with the little bean. Go. Talk. Have fun. And, you know, have some acrobatic fun and then tell me all about it so I can live vicariously through you.”

  While Hugo and I walk to his boat, we talk about things. We talk about our families, about how I never really felt like I had one until I found Stella. And about his hard-driving father and heiress mother.

  This is the first time I’ve set foot in a sailboat with a cabin, and although it’s modest, it's clear he's done some work on it.

  He convinces me to let him cook dinner for me in the world's tiniest kitchenette, and as the aromas of fresh cooked fish and grilled vegetables fill the air, I peruse his small built-in bookshelf.

  One title catches me completely off guard. On his little bookshelf is a copy of Like Water for Chocolate. I slip it off the shelf and thumb through the ragged volume.

  “You have this book?”

  He nods solemnly as he fills two plates with food.

  “Why do you have this?”

  He shrugs. “I read it in prison and liked it so much I kept re-reading it. When I was released, the prison librarian let me keep it.”

  I shake it at him. “No, but why, specifically, did you read it and keep rereading it?”

  He looks like a deer in headlights. “You said it was your favorite book. At first I just wanted to read it because I hoped it would make me feel closer to you. But then I genuinely enjoyed it, and…”

  He doesn’t finish because he sees I’ve covered my mouth and my eyes are leaking.

  “Laney. What is it? Why are you crying?” I hear him setting down plates and coming close to me.

  I can barely get out the words. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

  “Of course I remembered. I haven’t forgotten a single thing about you. Do you see these flowers?” He points to a tiny bud vase with a red flower in it right next to his bed, which sits across from the stove. “I keep this on my table, always, because it reminds me of the dress you wore that night.”

  I cover my eyes. It’s too much. “No, you do not.”

  “How are you surprised by this? I thought about you every single day I was in prison. I thought I made that clear.”

  I shake my head but he keeps going.

  I have to shut him up. Finally. I grab him and hush him with my mouth. Throwing my arms around his neck, I kiss him so hard that I push this tall fellow backward until the chair keels over behind him and we’re on the bed, kissing, with me on top of him.

  His salty lips are still at first, as are his hands, like he’s not sure this is actually happening. I pry open his mouth with my tongue and thrust it in to taste him, needing his lips, his tongue, his mouth.

  He needs to know how much he’s undone me. He needs to know all the things I’ve been thinking about even though I’ve been totally heartbroken, and now it’s coming back together.

  Chapter 17

  Laney

  I wake up to a warm sensation all over my body. It’s warm in this hut, probably because I slept late and forgot to close the balcony and now the sun is streaming in, blazing up the entire room with its heat.

  But after another minute, I realize that no, it’s my body producing that heat. And I’m not in my hut, I’m on Hugo’s boat. I look down and see the source of my heat.

  Hugo’s mouth is full of me. Claiming me, owning me. Kissing and licking ever so slowly that it lights up every last nerve ending in my body and my blood feels like I might have a fever.

  “Hugo,” I whisper.

  He pauses his open-mouth kisses against my sensitive skin just long enough to whisper something in French. “Mon coeur."

  His words transport me back to our first night together.

  I give in to the happy memory and imprint it with what’s happening to me, to us, right now.

  “My god, what a gift you are to me,” he whispers against my sensitive skin.

  His soft, sensuous suction resumes. The feeling could be compared to a swarm of butterflies teasing me all over my skin.

  Every time he speaks, I hear the realness in his voice. I’m overcome with emotion.

  I’m so turned on at the moment, I have to bite down on my lip because all the windows are open and if I let loose, everyone on the dock will know what’s happening in here.

  Maybe that’s fine, says my hazy b
rain.

  When Hugo sinks his tongue deep into my pussy and finds that deadly spot, I instantly explode.

  “Yes! Holy fucking shit! Yes!”

  Hugo’s chest rises and falls rapidly and his eyes gleam in the dim morning light as he watches me come. He cups my face and kisses me gently on the lips, and my insides melt into soft warm caramel.

  “I love you, my precious Laney.”

  I have to bite my lip.

  “No one has ever called me that before,” I say.

  “Good,” he replies. “Then I’m the first and the last. You’re mine and I’m never leaving you again. I promise I’ll—”

  I don’t let him finish, but instead press our lips together in a deep, life-affirming kiss.

  Hugo takes me out on the charter boat he sometimes captains to earn a living. He says he wants me to see a special spot he thinks I will like. He drives the boat around the east side of the island, away from the resort, to a hidden cove surrounded by forested mountains. When he drops anchor, he says. “Let’s go for a swim.”

  I look around.

  “How do you know it’s safe to swim here? How do you know there aren’t any sharks?”

  “Because I know this whole area like the back of my hand. It’s my business to know it, literally. Do you trust me?”

  Instead of telling him I trust him, I stand on the front of the boat and jump into the water.

  I feel as though nothing can touch me, until it does. Something smooth bumps and slides next to me. I try not to panic, but I do let out a yelp. I turn and see that it’s a dolphin—several dolphins—swimming circles around me, wanting to play.

  “Oh my god!” I am speaking in a shaky voice that’s somewhere between a laugh and a cry.

  “Did you know about this?”

  He says nothing at first; just watches.

  I’m overjoyed to be swimming with these magnificent creatures for the first time in my life. It’s a dream come true. Hugo watches me for a moment, looking very proud of himself for making me so happy.