Hotter Than Ever (Out of Uniform) (6 page)

“Do you mind giving me some time alone?” she asked after he deposited her suitcase and carry-on near the foot of the bed. “I want to shower and call my parents, and maybe lie down for a little while.”

“No problem.” He headed for the doorway, then lingered there. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to whip up something for you to eat?”

She blinked in surprise. “You cook?”

Annoyance flickered in his green eyes. “Yes, I cook.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

She felt like he was making a jab in there somewhere, but his tone was light and his expression veiled, so she decided not to push it. “Anyway, I’m not hungry. My appetite left me around the same time Chris did.”

Dylan let out a breath. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a shitty day, Claire.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They both went quiet for a moment, and then he cleared his throat. “Okay, well, let me know if you need anything. I’m gonna fill Aidan in on what happened and then deal with my mom.”

“Thank you for everything you did today,” she said, shifting uneasily.

“No prob,” he said before sliding out the door.

Once she was alone, Claire sat on the edge of the mattress and ran her fingers over the soft, navy-blue comforter. She felt uncomfortable being here, in Dylan’s space, in Dylan’s home, yet somehow it felt oddly appropriate. This entire day had been a nightmare, so why not finish it out in the company of a man she hated?

Dislike
, a voice corrected.

Yeah,
hate
might be too strong a word, Claire had to concede. She still didn’t approve of his behavior or the way he’d abandoned his family, but she couldn’t deny that he’d been decent today.

Sighing, she reached into her purse and found her phone. A moment later, she had a tally that made her gawk—forty-two text messages, twenty-one voice mail messages, twenty-four missed calls. Didn’t bode well for her email, which was her preferred method of communication.

She only bothered responding to the messages from her parents and her boss, reminding the former that she’d requested space, and thanking the latter for the reassurance that Claire still had the next three weeks off, honeymoon or no honeymoon.

After she pressed send, she checked the world clock app on her phone and nearly wept with joy when she realized she could now call Natasha and actually receive an answer. Long-distance charges be damned, she dialed Nat’s number and prayed her friend was still awake.

When Natasha’s voice blared over the line, the tears Claire had been holding back all day erupted like a volcanic explosion.

“Oh my God, I
knew
you’d get cold feet!” her best friend exclaimed before Claire even had a chance to say hello. “Don’t worry, I wrote up a little speech just in case. Hold on, hon, let me go find it.”

Claire laughed through her tears. “Don’t bother. It’s already done.”

“What’s already done? The ceremony?”

“The relationship.”

“Wait. What?”

A breath shuddered out. “Chris and I didn’t get married. He called it off.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“Nope,” she said glumly.

There was a long pause, and then a heavy sigh reverberated over the extension. “Start from the beginning.”

It took ten minutes to tell Natasha everything, and she finished by reluctantly admitting that Dylan had been a good friend to her today, a confession that elicited a laugh from her friend.

“So the asshole brother ended up being the good guy, and the good guy ended up being the asshole,” Natasha mused.

“Oh, like you’re surprised. You’ve never liked Chris.”

“Not really, no,” Natasha said frankly. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t support your decision to marry him. As long as you were happy, I was happy. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sniffled. “I feel like such a loser, Nat. Like one of those chicks from a bad rom com who gets left at the altar.”

“I knew the dude was a pompous jerk, but disappearing like that? That’s fucking bullshit.”

“I know.” She hesitated. “But…”

Natasha’s tone sharpened. “But what? And don’t tell me you’re thinking of forgiving the asshole!”

“No, it’s not that. I’m furious with him, I really am, but there was this moment earlier… It was right after Dylan told me that Chris was gone. I was shocked and hurt and embarrassed, but a part of me also felt…
relief
. God, Nat, I was actually kind of relieved I didn’t have to marry him.”

“That’s because he wasn’t right for you. I tried to tell you when you first started dating him, remember?”

“He was different then,” she protested.

“Uh-uh, no way. The man was a phony, Claire. I knew it from the moment I met him. He was too slick, and his stories about helping others and wanting to make a difference were pure BS.”

“What does that say about me then? For not seeing it?”

“It says you’re a good person with a big heart,” Natasha said quietly. “I think Chris told you everything you wanted to hear, and you believed it because you always try to see the best in people.”

“Maybe,” she murmured.

“But the fact that you felt relief today says it all, hon. Deep down you must have known it wasn’t right.”

“I guess. I just wish it didn’t have to end in such a humiliating way.” She sighed. “Shit, I’m really not looking forward to seeing him and listening to his excuses. I’m pretty sure it’ll take all my willpower not to slap him.”

“Don’t fight the urge. The bastard deserves a good slapping. I can’t believe he went to Aruba! Who
does
that?”

“I know, right?”

“Selfish dick.”

The outrage in her friend’s voice made Claire laugh, and the giddy sound was only confirmation that she would be lost without Natasha. They’d known each other since they were five years old, attended the same schools all the way through to high school graduation, and although their paths had branched off when Natasha enrolled in med school and Claire went for her MBA, the two of them had remained close.

Claire still remembered the day Natasha had come out to her as a lesbian, back when they were seventeen years old. Natasha had been so worried things would change between them, that Claire would freak out and pull away, but the confession had only strengthened their bond. Claire had wanted so desperately for Chris to love Nat as much as she did, but he’d never warmed up to her best friend, and now she had to wonder if that had been a warning sign all along.

“Seriously, though, how are you doing?”

Natasha’s soft inquiry cut into her troubled thoughts. “I’m fine,” she said truthfully. “But…shit, I’m so embarrassed. I’m dreading having to explain to everyone why we cancelled the wedding.”

“You don’t have to explain a damn thing. You and Chris broke up. End of story.”

She laughed again. “My parents will want more details than that.”

“Fine, you can give Nora and Ron the deets. But nobody else needs an in-depth explanation. They can mind their own business.” Natasha paused. “I really wish I could fly home and be there for you, do something to cheer you up.”

“You’ve already done a lot.”

“Well, I want to do more. I promise you, the second the plane touches down on the runway a couple of months from now, I’m picking you up, bringing you to my place and giving you an epic cheer-up session. We can get really tipsy, sing some awful karaoke and dye our hair blonde just like we did after Sandy dumped me. Deal?”

Claire grinned. “Deal.”

They spoke for a few more minutes, but it was nearly midnight in Sierra Leone, and when Natasha confessed she’d been up for the past thirty-eight hours working at the clinic, Claire felt so guilty she practically forced her friend to hang up.

Dropping the phone on the bed, she went over to her suitcase and unzipped it. Her plan was to take off this flimsy honeymoon dress, put on some comfy clothes, and reflect on this day from hell, but when she heard a clinking sound in her bag, the plan promptly changed.

She reached between the stacks of clothes and pulled out the bottle of Lagavulin single-malt scotch, which sold for three hundred bucks a pop. She didn’t normally buy such expensive liquor, but she’d wanted to surprise Chris on their honeymoon and toast to their marriage with his favorite brand.

As she traced the edges of the bottle’s label, she thought about the plan of action Natasha had just outlined. Getting tipsy sounded pretty damn appealing…but who said she had to wait until March? At the moment, she couldn’t think of anything better than getting a little wonky in the head and not thinking about this disastrous day for a little while.

With a decisive nod, she started to untwist the bottle cap, then froze when she heard muted footsteps coming from the hallway. She expected a knock on the door, but it didn’t come. Instead, another door opened and closed, and then there was nothing but silence.

Her face grew hot as she pictured Dylan and Aidan alone in a bedroom together. Embracing. Or maybe doing more than embracing…

She quickly banished the wicked thought before it put down roots and sprouted a whole bunch of dirty images in her head.

But as she opened the Lagavulin bottle and brought it to her lips, she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in the other room.

Chapter Three

Aidan followed Dylan into the master bedroom, noting the rigid set of his roommate’s shoulders—and was that guilt in those deep green eyes? Clearly it was, because the second the door closed, Dylan lobbed an apology in his direction.

“I’m sorry, man.”

Aidan wrinkled his forehead. “For what?”

“For bringing Claire here without warning.”

Dylan dragged both hands through his dirty-blond hair before shrugging out of his black suit jacket. He tossed it on the king-sized bed, then loosened his slate-gray tie, yanked it off and threw that aside too.

Aidan’s gaze tracked the movement of Dylan’s long, callused fingers as they unbuttoned the top two buttons of his white dress shirt. Then the SEAL let out a weary groan and stretched his arms over his head, causing the muscles on that broad chest to flex in the hottest possible way.

The sudden, all-consuming arousal that seized Aidan’s body no longer startled him. He’d been attracted to both sexes for as long as he could remember, but his attraction to Dylan surpassed anything he’d ever experienced. He was addicted to the man, craved him on a whole other level, and no matter how many times he fed the addiction, no matter how many mind-blowing releases they gave each other, he constantly wanted more.

Snapping out of it, he leaned against the tall dresser and watched as Dylan flopped down on the bed. “You don’t have to be sorry. You did the right thing getting her out of town.” He hesitated. “Did Chris seriously just leave without telling her the wedding was off?”

“Yup.”

“Wow.” Aidan searched his vocabulary for an adjective with some tact, but in the end, he couldn’t control what came out. “Your brother’s a fucking asshole, man.”

“No kidding.” Dylan shook his head a few times, looking both angry and amazed. “He just
left
. I get that he was panicking—”

“No excuse.”

“—and that he didn’t want to hurt her—”

“No excuse.”

“—but that’s no excuse,” Dylan said, rolling his eyes.

Aidan offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I should have let you finish. But yeah, your brother needed to man up and talk to Claire. He planned on
marrying
the girl, for fuck’s sake. He owed it to her to tell her what was on his mind instead of dumping her via messenger and running away.”

“I know, but I couldn’t stop him. He pretended he was going to see her, and then he took off and left me holding the bag. And the messed-up thing? I think he made the right call. Not the running away part, but canceling the wedding. He and Claire were all wrong for each other.”

“Regardless, she didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

“Of course not.” Dylan’s green eyes darkened with displeasure. “But that doesn’t mean I want to spend the next few days holding her hand and wiping her tears and telling her everything’s gonna be okay.”

“You don’t want to, but you will.”

The SEAL’s eyebrows lifted in challenge. “Oh, I will, huh?”

“Yup. Because unlike your brother,
you
are not an asshole. You’re a good guy, and we both know you have a major hero complex. So no matter how much you dislike the woman—who, by the way, is smoking hot, bro—you’re going to be there for her, just like you were this morning.” Crossing his arms, Aidan slanted his head to the side. “Am I wrong?”

After a moment, a defeated sigh rumbled out of Dylan’s chest. “No, you’re not wrong. Claire can stay for as long as she likes.” He faltered. “That is, if it’s okay with you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? This is your place too. You can invite whoever you want over.”

“But this is much more than me inviting a chick over for an evening of dinner and fucking. She’d be a
houseguest
. A snooty, bitchy, annoying houseguest.”