Page 16 of The Worst Man

Seven

Our journey home from Las Vegas was a very different one from our flight there. For starters, Hank and I were seated in first class, a splurge he surprised me with when we checked in at the ticket counter. His other surprise? While I’d been leading my symposium, he’d skipped out on the conference altogether to pay a visit to a high-end jeweler an acquaintance had recommended located off the Strip. The moment I stepped out of Hall B, he dropped to one knee and asked me to marry him all over again. Naturally, I’d said yes.

“What are we going to do about your parents and that ridiculous offer?” I lifted a glass of pink bubbly to my lips.

“I think the more important question is what we’re going to do about your family. Should I be concerned about your older brothers showing up on my doorstep one morning demanding that I step outside?”

I waved away his concern. “Honestly, I’m not all that close with my brothers. When all that shit with Tag came to light, they were angry that I’d ‘thrown myself’ at their friend.” I used my fingers to make air quotes. Baxter accusing me of some nefarious plot to trap his friend into a relationship had been a stark lesson in familial loyalty—or lack thereof. It had also sharpened my impression that no matter how good you might think a man was, he would eventually disappoint you. It was no wonder I’d developed a healthy skepticism where the opposite sex was concerned. I hoped Hank would help me breaking those old, ingrained habits.

His gaze grew stormy. “I still want to strangle that fuck face. What kind of twenty-two year old preys on an innocent girl who doesn’t know any better?”

I set my champagne down and laid my hand to his forearm. “Please, don’t take away my agency. When I walked into that room with Tag, I knew things would become physical. I made the decision to go in there because I wanted that to happen. Yes, the sex was absolutely terrible and he treated me abominably afterward—both of which I obviously regret—but I didn’t do any of it under duress. Being a strong woman means owning up to the role I played in my mistakes.”

Hank’s glass joined mine on the console that separated our seats, and he clasped my hands in his. Raising them to his mouth, he placed a slow, tender kiss across the bridge of knuckles of each hand. “How did it take me two years to notice how strong and resilient you are? I can’t believe I spent all that time rebelling against what I viewed as a brand of angry, man-hating feminism that you employed solely to make me miserable. Meanwhile, if I’d just stopped and listened to you for one fucking minute, I would have realized my mistake. Will you ever forgive me?”

I slid my hands from his, and cupped his cheeks in my hand. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and his face bore the traces of what would grow into a dark, thick beard in a few days time. I’d never seen him sporting facial hair, but I was looking forward to it now. Selfishly, I could imagine how the soft whiskers would feel between my thighs. “With an apology like that, how can I say no?” I tugged him forward to press my lips against his. Immediately, a fire ignited low in my belly, a craving unlike anything I’d ever known. Now that I’d stopped fighting my attraction for Hank, whenever we touched, things turned electric.

But we were in the middle of an airplane surrounded by fellow passengers, so I needed to cool my jets, so to speak. I slowed our kiss and pulled away with regret. “Later,” I said as he reached out to rub his thumb over my bottom lip.

Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our final descent into Boston. Please make sure your seat backs are raised and your carry-on belongings have been stowed.

Hank gathered our empty glasses and passed them to a flight attendant making her way down the aisle and then turned back to me. “So,” he said, his face suddenly bearing the traces of nervousness.

“So,” I echoed Suddenly, the slogan “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” echoed loudly in my subconscious. We’d gotten married on a drunken whim, and we’d agreed to stay married while the rush of fresh passion was still pulsing between us. We’d made tremendous strides over the past forty-eight hours, but the fact remained that we’d arrived in Vegas enemies and were returning to New England as husband and wife. Our lives were about to be upended in a major way, and while we’d discussed a great many things since waking up naked together, there was still a lot of unresolved issues between us.

“Going back to the question of the three million dollars,” Hank began, his gaze locked on the window over my shoulder. The fact that he wouldn’t look at me directly didn’t bode well for what came out of his mouth next. Thankfully, I needn’t have worried. “I wanted to know what you thought about donating it to Planned Parenthood, or a local women’s shelter or something. It’d be nice for a change if the Talbot money was used for something good.”

My heart melted and my worries about the future dissolved. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, and we’d likely go through some pretty epic growing pains, but Hank’s words proved one very important thing: he knew the contents of my heart. Also, that he supported them. That he supported me. “I think that’d be lovely.”

As the plane touched down at Logan and we came to a stop at our gate, Hank gathered my hand in his and led me from the plane. He squeezed my hand when we stepped onto the escalator leading down to baggage claim. “At the risk of hearing something I’m not ready to, what happens now?”

I looked up into his handsome face and felt a small smile tugging at my lips. “Did you drive?”

He ran a hand through his hair, and smiled sheepishly back at me. “Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“I, um, used the family driver. You?”

“I took the bus.”

“Do you want—”

“—It occurs to me ...”

“Sorry, you go first.” Hank gestured for me to continue.

I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around him in what I hoped felt like a comforting embrace. At first his body was firm and unyielding, but then he melted into the hug with a long, drawn out exhalation.

“Relax,” I said, my cheek pressed against his chest. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

“How do you know?” It was the first time since waking up next to each other that he’d verbalized any concern for our future together.

I took a step back and straightened my spine. Putting on a brave face, I said, “Answer me this: do you know two more stubborn people in all of the world?”

His lips hitched up in a small smile. “No.”

“Okay, then. We can do this.”

---