Page 19 of Just Married

Unknown (10:45 PM) Baby,please.

Unknown (11:32 PM)Peyton.

I swipe at my cheeks, brushing away tears that I shouldn’t be crying. Why am I crying? I keepreading…

Unknown (12:00 AM) I’mcoming.

Unknown (3:15 AM) Your flight landed. Please let me know you’resafe.

I can hardly see through my tears now. My heart aches knowing he’s worried about me and my stomach is full of butterflies knowing he’s coming for me. I push it all aside and read the rest of mymessages.

Theo (10:00 AM) Tammy hasn’t heard from you and Kingston is losing his shit. Let me know you made it home. If I don’t get him to stop calling every ten minutes your sister is going to divorceme.

Peyton (3:33 PM) Sorry. Got home and crashed. Love youguys! :)

My phone vibrates in my hand… Tammy finally decided to tell me what I alreadyknow.

Tammy (3:34 PM) No. Kingston is on hisway.

I don’t even have time to respond before there is a knock on my door. I consider climbing out the window and escaping down the fire escape, but I know I can’t run forever. Time to put on my big girl panties and face the music. Whoever said what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas is full of shit because my Vegas is standing on the other side of mydoor.

I look through the peephole and am shocked to see a completely disheveled Kingston. His normally well-kept stubble is scruffy and he’s still wearing his tux, minus the jacket and the tie loose around his neck. He runs his hands through his hair, and a pang of regret washes through me. The confident, self-assured Kingston is nowhere to be seen. In his place is a wreck of a man who appears to be on his lastrope.

He raises his hand, knockingagain.

“Peyton… open up. I know you’re inthere.”

I take a deep breath and unlock the door. For better or worse, it’s time to face themusic.

Chapter Nine

Kingston

My heart poundsin my chest as I wait to see if she’ll open the door. I know she’s home. At least, I hope she’shome.

When the lock snicks and the door slowly opens revealing Peyton’s beautiful face, my breath freezes in my chest. All the worry and roiling emotions from the last twenty-four hours seeps out and relief takes theirplace.

For several long seconds, we just take each other in. She’s in a faded t-shirt that I recognize as one of Theo’s from high school and a baggy pair of pajama pants. Her hair is in a messy knot on top of her head, and her face is scrubbed free of any makeup. Even though her eyes are bloodshot and swollen from crying, she’s still the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen. The soft look in her eyes fades, and she straightens her spine. I can see her walls erecting around her, and I hateit.

Her pink lips part to say something, but before she can turn me away, I close the distance between us and take her in my arms. She’s stiff for just a moment before she sinks into my hold. I band one arm around her waist and bury my other hand in her hair, cradling her head against my chest. Holding her slight form as close as I can gether.

Peyton clings to me almost as tightly as I am to her. Breath hitching, she begins to cry openly. Until this weekend, I have never once seen Peyton cry. She’s tough as nails and to see her so upset wrecksme.

“Peyton,” I murmur brokenly into her hair, brushing my lips against her forehead in a tender kiss. I begin to pull away, wanting to give us the opportunity to talk, but her grip tightens, and instead of releasing her, I lift her into my arms bridalstyle.

The irony isn’t lost on me. The wave of regret that swarms me is the least that I deserve. Under different circumstances, this would’ve been exactly how we would’ve entered our home after our honeymoon. Instead, I’ve swept up my weeping bride because I fuckedup.

Taking a seat on her couch, I hold her on my lap, running my palm up and down her back in soothing circles while whispering platitudes that I hope she understands aren’tempty.

Normally, this sort of thing would have me running for the hills, but with Peyton, I want to pull all of her heartache into my own body and spare her every single tear. Finally, she sits up, wiping her eyes and sniffling lightly. She runs her hand over my chest where my shirt is soaked through with her tears. That light touch is enough to have my focus distracted, and my body catches up to the fact that my beautiful, sweet Peyton is in my lap. The soft curve of her ass cradling my cock, and her round breast pressed against mystomach.

“Sorry about that,” she says in a small, shakyvoice.

“Don’t you dare be sorry for any of this, Peyton.” I force her eyes to mine with a hand on her cheek. “I understand why you are freaking out. I get it. And I knowIshould be sorry. I was sober, and you were not, but I’m notsorry.”

I look at her willing her to see the sincerity in my eyes. Begging with her to hear the sincerity in myvoice.

“Regardless of how we started, this isn’t a mistake. We went about things back-asswards, but this—right here—is where I have always wanted to end up. Well, with less clothing and zero tears,” I add, drawing a watery smile to herlips.

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