“Get out of my goddamn resort.”
“If you kick me out, so help me, I will make the biggest fucking scene you can imagine.” Rob gave him a cold smile. “Your wedding is in what, two days? Hate to have a scandal show up on your doorstep just in time for it. The missus would probably be mighty upset.”
Logan’s shoulders heaved, and for a moment, Rob thought the man might punch him. Instead, Logan’s nostrils flared, he gave Rob one last simmering look, and then he stormed away.
Rob maintained his cool until Logan turned the corner. Then, he moved to the nearest wall and put his fist through it, leaving a gigantic hole in the drywall. His knuckles split, but the pain only momentarily dimmed his rage.
Fuck him. Fuck Logan if he thought that Rob was dicking around with Marjorie’s feelings. What kind of lowlife bastard did they think he was?
Worse, what kind of lowlife bastard was Marjorie going to think he was, once they told her the truth?
He punched the wall with his other fist. Great. Now both of them hurt, and he was still pissed.
Chapter Nineteen
When midnight passed and Marjorie didn’t call him, Rob started to get concerned. Surely they weren’t out to dinner this late, were they?
When one A.M. slid into two in the morning, Rob decided to go to Marjorie’s room and talk to her. If she was hurting, he wanted to try to fix it. He knocked on her door, but there was no answer. He texted her. Still no answer. He waited outside of her room for ten minutes, impatient, and then when no one came by, he slipped a credit card into the lock and jimmied it. If she was in her room and ignoring him, the latch would be flipped and he wouldn’t be able to get in.
But a moment later, he was able to get in, and the door swung open. The room was empty. Marjorie wasn’t in.
Where the hell was she?
A twinge of worry cut through him, and he shut the door quickly again, then headed to the elevator.
She wasn’t in the lobby. He searched the gardens, and she wasn’t there, either. The restaurant was closed due to the late hour, and the bar was empty of all but a few booze hounds. He didn’t really think she’d be there—after that one bad evening, she hadn’t drunk a drop.
There was only one place left to check.
Rob headed out to the beach, took off his leather Bettanin & Venturi wingtip shoes, and began to walk the shoreline, looking for a huddled figure and blonde hair.
Sure enough, at the far end of the beach, almost a mile away from the resort, he saw a lonely woman walking the waves and staring out into the distance. From where he stood, she looked fragile and sad, not the strong, smiling Marjorie he was used to.
And he knew in his gut that he’d hurt her tonight. That thought weighed on him like a stone around his neck. His sweet, sensitive Marjorie had been wounded by his callousness. God, he was such a dick.
He walked up to her and waded out ankle high to where she was standing. She didn’t speak, so he looked out on the horizon with her, trying to see what she was regarding. After a moment, he teased, “I hope you didn’t lose your top again. If it’s out that far, we might never find it.”
She didn’t laugh. She just looked over at him with sad eyes. “Why are you here, Rob?”
He tossed his shoes down on the sand behind him and shoved his hands in his pockets, like a guilty kid. “I came out here because I was worried about you.”
“Really? You didn’t seem all that worried earlier tonight when you blew me off.”
“Something came up.”
Marjorie gave him a look that told him she knew he was lying.
“I swear, I never meant to hurt your feelings, Marjorie.”
“Then why did you?” She crossed her arms and finally looked over at him, and he realized she was still in her dress from earlier that evening, all long-legged and beautiful. Her shoes were nowhere to be found, her feet bare as the water rushed over them. “Why was it that after spending all day telling me you couldn’t wait to see me, you suddenly had some ‘issue’ that came up and made you cancel on me? In front of my friends?”
“Oh, is that what the surprise was?” He asked, feigning a grimace. “Man, I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry!” She glared at him and then looked away quickly, dashing her hand to the corner of one eye in a movement that made his heart squeeze. “I mean, if it was something I did, at least have the guts to tell me—”
“Something you did? What do you mean?” When she didn’t look at him, Rob moved in front of her and held her by the arms, trying to get her to look at him. She avoided his gaze. “Marjorie, what do you mean, something you did?”
She swallowed hard, her throat working, and kept her head ducked. “It’s just . . . last night was my first night . . . for a lot of stuff. And I thought it was great and that there was no shame in the room, right? But then today, you avoided me, and I couldn’t help wondering if it was something I did or didn’t do—”
“What? No, no, no. Not at all.” His hands rubbed her arms and he tried to draw her against him but she pulled away stiffly. “Marjorie, I don’t even know how you can think that. You were fucking amazing last night.”
“But not so amazing that you wanted to see me today?”
“I’m here, aren’t I? I came out looking for you. And to me, you were so goddamn amazing that I wanted you to sleep next to me all night last night. I didn’t want you to leave. Do you know how rare that is for me?”
“No,” she answered honestly, and he was dumbstruck again. Of course she didn’t know. He hid so much shit from her that she’d be appalled if she ever found out who he really was.
Well, fuck. “Something . . . something just came up,” he said lamely.
This time she looked at him. “Just stop it, Rob, okay?”
“All right. I’m fucking lying. Nothing came up. I just freaked out tonight, but it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me, all right? I’m a selfish fucker and I shouldn’t have blown you off. I didn’t want to, and I know you don’t believe that, but it’s the truth.” He grabbed her hand and pressed both of his around hers and held it against his chest. “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I know you don’t believe me, but I swear to God and Jesus and Buddha that it’s the truth. You’re the first person that has been genuinely happy to know me in fucking years, and you have no idea how good that feels and how scared I am of fucking that up.”
“How can I believe you?” she asked in a soft voice.
“Ask me for something,” he said quickly. “Tell me what to do to make it up to you, and I will.”
“The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow night,” she told him. “Dewey’s my date, but—”
“Wait,” he said, a surge of jealousy roaring through him. “Who the fuck is Dewey?”
Her mouth curled in a reluctant smile. “He’s an eighty-year-old man I met playing shuffleboard. He’s lonely, so I introduced him to Agnes and Edna when we started spending time together.”
“Oh.” His heart slowed down a little. Just a little.
“But I want you to be my date instead,” she told him. “I’d love if you went to the rehearsal dinner with me.”
Ah, fuck. The moment he showed up, Logan Hawkings would lose his shit, and Rob’s presence would ruin things for everyone involved. “I . . . can’t.”
She tried to pull her hand from his grip, flinching backward.
“Marjorie,” he began.
“Let me go.” He could hear the tears in her voice.
“It’s not what you think—”
“I think you’re ashamed to be seen with me,” Marjorie told him, her voice thick. “That’s what I think. That it’s perfectly okay to date Big Bird when no one sees you with her, right? But the moment someone will, all bets are off.”
“That’s not it at all.”
“No?” She tried to yank her hand out of his again.