Mister Wrong(6)

Cora nodded, climbing the stairs with me, her hand secured in mine. “All I need to do is change and we’re out of here.”

I still didn’t know what I was about to do. Jacob was still missing, and he was supposed to head to an airport and jump on a plane with his wife to go on their ten day honeymoon on St. Thomas. If I told her now what I’d done, she’d be pissed. Like, throw me over the bannister before firing her heels at my smashed body pissed. Cora might have been an angel most of the time, but don’t get in her way when she’s upset. I knew from personal experience.

But I couldn’t just go on her honeymoon and hope she wouldn’t figure out what I’d done and who I was. I couldn’t just share her honeymoon—and all that came with such an important event—with her. If I did, it wouldn’t just be Cora who would kill me once everything came to light—Jacob would too. I’d kill him if our roles had been reversed.

God, it was an impossible situation, and I was starting to doubt my whole plan to act as stand-in groom earlier. I was in too deep to ’fess up now. Admitting the truth would ruin this whole day more than it probably would have been ruined if I’d just told her earlier that Jacob had left her standing at the altar.

“Could you help with my zipper?” Cora paused outside the door of the guest room she must have been staying in, sliding her hair over her shoulder and turning her back to me.

My fingers forgot how to move.

“Jacob?” Her head titled over her shoulder, waiting.

Nothing like hearing her say his name the way I’d always dreamed of hearing her speak mine to break me out of my temporary stupor.

“Yeah, sure.” I cleared my throat and focused on the zipper. Instead of what was behind the zipper. And how warm and soft and . . . focus. “No problem.”

Once I’d lowered the zipper to the middle of her back, I stopped. There was no way I was lowering it any farther because I wasn’t sure I could restrain myself if I did. I didn’t trust myself.

Cora gave me an amused look when she felt how far, or not far, I’d taken her zipper. “You’re not getting all chaste on me now that we’re married, are you?”

I answered her with a tipped smile, like I guessed Jacob would have, trying to ignore the ache tempting me to shove her up against the wall and prove to her just how not chaste I felt right now.

It seemed to satisfy her. “Good. Because I packed the wrong lingerie if that’s the kind of honeymoon you had in mind.” She left me with a smile that suggested everything I was already imagining, stepping inside the room and closing the door.

My head fell into the wall. Great. Just fucking great.

Cora was presently getting naked inside that room, one closed door away, ready to leave on her honeymoon with me and a suitcase full of filthy lingerie. I wasn’t sure if I was in some kind of temporary heaven or an eternal purgatory, but I was trapped somewhere between a dream and a nightmare.

How could my brother not see what he had? How could he feel anything but unworthy and grateful for the woman who loved him and had just promised to spend forever with him? Did he think he could do better? Did he think anyone could do better than Cora Matthews?!

Realizing what my brother had and how he took her for granted flooded my veins with anger. Rage flooded my system until I found myself storming to Jacob’s old room, shoving inside it, and tearing out of his tux. His suitcases were already here and packed, no doubt thanks to Cora. His dress shirt, slacks, and shoes were all laid out, passports and reservation information neatly arranged on the nearby table.

He had it all. He had everything. He had her. And he treated it as though it were nothing. Like it was replaceable—a guarantee he could take for granted.

I didn’t realize I’d changed into the shirt and slacks until I was tying on the shoes. I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do or how I was going to tell her the truth, but I was done letting my head take the lead on this. It had gotten me into this whole mess, so I was turning over what came next in my gut. This felt right, so I was going with it.

Dressing in my brother’s clothes, grabbing my brother’s honeymoon information, and heading down the hallway with his suitcase in hand toward his wife’s room felt right. It wouldn’t have felt right if I’d let my head continue to steer me, but fuck that. This felt right in my core, deep inside, and I was going with it.

Cora opened her door right as I came to a stop outside it. She’d changed into a strapless white summer dress, which managed to take my lungs out of commission in the same way her wedding gown had earlier.

“You look . . .” I fumbled for the right word, running my eyes over her the way I was prohibiting my hands from doing.