Mister Wrong(5)

They went with their typical response to everything—laughter. As much as I despised them, they’d been useful for one thing. Now I knew. Jacob was fine. He’d missed his wedding because he’d been drunk-fucking some other woman and I wasn’t going to waste another minute worrying about him.

He had some serious explaining to do whenever he surfaced. He wasn’t the only one. That sent me reaching for another glass of champagne as I headed toward Cora. He’d messed up. So had I.

Would it have been better to just be honest and let her find out what kind of person Jacob really was? Would heartbreak and humiliation have been better than this—marrying the wrong guy as a stand-in for another wrong guy? God, did two wrongs make a right?

My head was spinning, so I drained the champagne in one drink.

“There you are.” She reached for me as soon as she saw me coming.

Setting the empty glass on a table, I wound my hand around hers.

“I was starting to worry you were a runaway groom.” She was smiling, making a joke, but she had no idea the truth of it.

My fingers tied through hers, and I pulled her closer. My other hand easily found its way around her waist, as if I’d done it a million times before. The reality was entirely different from my fantasy though.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “Now, dance with me one more time before I drag you out of here.”

Her arms wound around me, her hands tying behind my neck. I’d never felt anything as perfect as having Cora’s body pressed against mine, her arms holding me close.

“Someone a little excited for the honeymoon?” The little uptick in her voice toward the end alluded to what she was getting at.

And shit. I was getting hard. Hearing her hint, imagining her body pinned below mine . . .

She must have felt it, because she pressed a little closer, lifting her mouth to my ear. “Now you’ve got me all excited too.”

My body trembled against hers while I clamped my eyes closed and tried to erase the image of me moving above her from my mind. She was Jacob’s, I reminded myself. No matter the mistakes he’d made or how he’d betrayed her, when she touched me and whispered things into my ear, she was talking to Jacob. Not me.

“Come on.” Her lips brushed the side of my neck. “Let’s get out of here.”

When her face came around in front of mine again, there was something in her eyes. It almost looked like confusion, but it passed a moment later.

Might have had something to do with the cologne I wore not being anything like the one Jacob did.

Taking her hand, I steered us through a crowd of people who were intent upon slowing us down to shower us with more congratulations and marital advice. I wasn’t sure how never going to bed angry was supposed to be the end-all for a successful marriage, but what the hell did I know?

We’d almost made it inside when I felt a hand clamp over my shoulder. It was a familiar hand touching me in an unfamiliar way. Like I was the golden child. Instead of the tarnished one.

“Hell of a night, son. I’m happy for you.” Dad had a tumbler of scotch in his other hand, looking at me like I was everything he could ever hope for in a son. “I’m happy for you both.” He leaned in to give Cora a quick peck on the cheek, and she responded with a hug.

My dad had never been overly warm with Cora despite the years she’d spent under his roof, but he’d never been cold either. He’d held her at a careful distance, kind of like the way he held me.

Jacob was the only one allowed past that arm’s length distance.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “This was one hell of a day for sure.”

He gave my shoulder one more squeeze before tipping his head inside the house. “Now get out of here and enjoy your honeymoon.”

Cora smiled, the faintest color bleeding into her cheeks. “Thank you for such a nice wedding, Mr. Adams.”

Dad lifted his drink. “Thank you for taking such good care of my son.”

He’d disappeared into the crowd by the time we stepped inside. Dad owned a big commercial real estate company and knew, or was known by, most everyone in Miami’s upper circle. That was the reason for the garishly large wedding. I knew Cora would have preferred to keep it a small, quiet affair. Like myself, she didn’t know most of the people out there toasting to her marriage and happiness. Jacob might have since he and my dad worked together, but he’d gone and missed his own wedding, so most of those guests were here because of my dad —and for the imposter Jacob Adams.

“You have everything packed and ready?” I asked, tugging on the bowtie that had been strangling me like a noose all day.