He reached a hand through the crack in the door, the tips of his fingers just barely making contact with hers. She didn’t flinch, and he told himself that if he maintained contact—an almost-touch—that this evening wouldn’t be the end they were barreling toward.
“Elaina,” he said, his strained voice unrecognizable to his own ears.
“Let me finish,” she said, and he waited. “I fell in love with the boy you were because I knew you’d become the man you were meant to be. And you have, Duncan. I should have seen that. I should have trusted that. But instead I conjured up unrealistic expectations of what I believed was perfection, and because of that I was not the woman I should have been for you. I see that now.”
She let out a long, shuddering breath, and he remained quiet. He did not move his hand, though, his fingertips still pressed to hers.
“I cannot promise you that I will change my way of thinking overnight, but I will try. For you I will try to be the woman you deserve. I will be at the church in the morning. If you come, I will marry you. If you do not—if I have put the final straw on top of the camel—I will understand.”
Duncan’s lips teased at a smile, if only for a second. He could spend the rest of his life listening to Elaina’s rephrasing of English idioms. He wanted to teach her some of his family’s sayings, like the one his great-gran always said when Duncan’s father would get on him about his marks in schooclass="underline" Failing means you’re playing.
In other words, it was better to be shite at something than not to be taking part in it at all.
For fuck’s sake. That was it. Maybe they’d mucked things up right and left today—and plenty of other times in the past three years—but he and Elaina were active participants in this relationship. They weren’t just sitting by waiting for things to happen. He sprang to his feet to unlatch the chain, not having realized what he should have already known when the tips of his fingers went cold.
Elaina was gone.
He scrambled to his bedside table and unlocked his phone, his fingers furious against the uncooperative keys and the equally arse-like autocorrect. It took him three tries just to get out, You didn’t let me finish. He waited the requisite amount of time for her to make it back to her home above Ambrosia. Then he waited several minutes more—and several more after that.
But there was no response.
Who did Elaina Tripoli think she was, coming to his room and being all grandiose and selfless? Apologizing, even, for the love of ouzo…and Duncan did love the stuff. Fucking hell, who was this woman promising to try to be better and then walking away before he could catch his breath—before he could tell her the answer to his own question.
She was the reason he could only see out of one eye at the moment.
She was the woman who drove him mad with his anticipation of her reaction to his…detainment in Athens.
She was the woman who scared him the most, but wasn’t Duncan McAllister the kind of guy who enjoyed a little bit of risk?
Elaina Tripoli was the woman he loved, even when they made a right mess of things.
She was his fiancée, and in a few short hours, he would don his kilt and make her his wife.
Chapter Twenty-One
Noah
Noah sat at the foot of the bed, head in his hands. He got up and paced the length of the room a few times. Then it was back to the bed.
She had said yes. Jordan had said yes. Of course she had. She loved him. Or maybe it was more… Of course she did. She had an audience. Jesus, what if that was why she’d agreed?
He flopped down on the bed, flat on his back, and closed his eyes. On any other day he would have joined Jordan in the shower, especially since tonight’s was purely gratuitous, her need to experience “the best water pressure ever” for the second time that day. But right now he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
She’d cried. She’d said yes. She’d let him put the ring on her finger. Everything happened as he’d wanted it to happen. Except for one thing.
It wasn’t where it was supposed to happen. Or when. Okay, so maybe that was two things. But he realized those two things were it. This proposal was supposed to undo the crap they went through in Aberdeen and turn all of Jordan’s memories of that place into new and improved ones. He didn’t want her to remember the year they met in Scotland as one where he’d pushed her away, scared that what they’d felt wouldn’t survive once they were back in the real world, separated by geography. He didn’t begrudge her the happy times she had without him. She’d deserved that. And they did get it right in the end, even making the long-distance thing work until Jordan had moved to Columbus for grad school. But that didn’t change that they had wasted those months in Aberdeen. Every time he thought about what it would have been like to spend that time abroad together instead of apart, he kind of wanted to punch himself in the throat.
He took in a deep breath, ignoring the tiny shudder as he exhaled.
“Hey.”
Noah’s eyes widened at the sound of Jordan’s voice. He hadn’t realized the shower had stopped.
“Hey,” he said, eyes trained on the blades of the ceiling fan above him.
Jordan perched on the side of the bed, wearing nothing but the hotel robe.
“You gonna make some room for me?”
He rotated his head from side to side, taking note of his arms sprawled out from his shoulders. He motioned for her to come closer.
“There’s always room for you, Brooks.”
She smiled, the simplest of gestures yet one that made him melt just a little every time she did it. Then she burrowed into the space between his arm and his body, her wet hair soaking through his T-shirt, but he didn’t care. He pulled her closer, prepared for the entirety of his garment to act as her towel, so long as she stayed connected to him like this.
“I kinda thought you’d join me,” she said, a small pout on her lips.
“Oh, right,” he started. “Lost in thought, I guess.”
She kissed his chest.
“It’s okay. I get it. You had a long day. I just missed you,” she said. “But that was a really cool thing you did, you and Griffin.”
He kissed the top of her head.
“I missed you, too. And by cool thing, do you mean rescuing Duncan from airport prison or making the wise choice to show him the engagement ring so he could ruin my proposal?”
Jordan pushed herself up on her elbow. This time Noah wasn’t melting because she sure as hell wasn’t smiling.
“What?” he asked.
First her eyes narrowed, then widened. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or confused. Or maybe sad? What was that look? He thought he knew all her expressions, but apparently he’d never elicited this one before.
“Ruined your proposal? Did you—did you not want to propose to me?”
He sprang up, nearly launching her off the edge of the bed.
“No! I wasn’t going to… I mean, yes! Jordan…I’m sorry. Shit. That’s not what I meant. I just—it wasn’t supposed to happen. Not yet. Not here. I bought a ring,” he insisted. “You know I want to marry you.”
“And I want to marry you, too.” She sighed. “But don’t you get it? I have pictured this day—this moment—in my head a thousand times. No matter what the scenario, it always ended in me saying yes. But never once did I envision you regretting any part of it.”
A sharp knock sounded on the door, and they both startled. Jordan rolled off the bed and strode to answer it.