Page 62 of One Night Bride
26
Remington
“Long way to come just to tell me you want a divorce.”
Esme’s voice startled me. I spun around and saw her standing there on the dock, her gorgeous legs wide apart, standing her ground. I drank in the sight of her like a starving man, despite her being here way too early. My plan wasn’t quite ready. That long black hair, her creamy skin, even the way she frowned at me was a sight for sore eyes.
“What?” Inwardly, I cringed. I came all this way and put all this effort into a grand gesture to win her back, and all I could sputter was “what?”
She wiggled a yellow envelope I just now noticed she held in her hand, not coming any closer. I really wished she’d come closer so I could breathe her in. See the little freckle on her right cheekbone I kissed every morning when she thought I was kissing her cheek like a gentleman.
“If you were just going to have me served with papers, why did you come all the way out here?”
My face went numb and my stomach took a dive. Oh, shit. The lawyer. The divorce. How could I have missed that tiny detail? Fuck me, they’d already served her with divorce papers?
I looked up at the sky and begged for a lucky break for once when it came to this woman. My hands rubbed out the ache in the back of my neck. I swallowed hard and doubled down on why I was here. My apology needed to be damn good now.
I dropped my hands and walked closer to her. “I’m so sorry, Esme. You shouldn’t have gotten those. I was so caught up in getting down here to see you, I forgot I’d called my lawyer last week when I went home.”
She tilted her head to the side, her eyes so guarded it tugged on my chest. “Do you or do you not want a divorce?”
I shook my head. “God, no, woman. I came down here to try to win you back, not push you away again. But clearly I already fucked it up.”
“All done, boss!” came a shout from the boat tied up two slips over.
I put a hand in the air and waved the guy off. He’d been hired on short notice to clean the boat and string white lights across the deck, to remind Esme of my first proposal. Or second if whatever I said in Tahoe while inebriated counted. So, that would make tonight the third proposal. Jesus, I’d made a mess of things right from the start.
Esme bit her lip and stared at me for a long moment. “You’re not here to get a divorce?”
I took another step so we were eye to eye. I grabbed the envelope out of her hands and heaved it into the water, not taking my eyes off her for a second.
“Remy!” she gasped, jaw dropping open as she watched the papers sink to the bottom of the ocean where they belonged.
I fucking loved it when she said my name like that. Usually it was when we had fewer clothes on, but I’d take this one too. I couldn’t stop myself. I had to touch her. One hand cupped her face, turning her back to me.
“I planned a whole date so I could apologize. It’ll be super private where no one can take our picture. The date won’t be leaked online, I promise. Will you go on the boat with me?”
Her eyelashes fluttered, and I held my breath. “Remy,” she whispered.
I leaned in and kissed her freckle, then her nose, hovering right over her mouth. “Just say yes.”
Her eyes fluttered closed. “Only if you let me talk first.”
“Done.”
And then my lips were on hers, silently promising that I’d never leave again, never start a fight and walk off, never file for divorce, or give her reason to be ashamed of us. I’d give her anything and everything.
She was the first to break away and I grit my teeth to keep from reaching for her again. Talking first was a good idea. She let me hold her hand as we walked down the dock to the boat. I helped her aboard and got her seated while I cranked the engine over. Rip had been right. This boat was older than Jesus, but she still worked and it served my purposes of getting Esme alone. Once we were somewhere in the Pacific with only a faint outline of shore way off in the distance, I cut the engine and let us float. I hopped down from the helm and sat across the tiny table from her. The sun was about to sink into the ocean and I wanted to see her beauty during that golden hour light.
“Remy,” she started, reaching across the table to hold my hand. “I appreciate you going to all this trouble, but you didn’t need to. I don’t care if someone sees us or takes our picture or even posts it online.”
I frowned, not following. That scenario was literally what led to her freaking out last week. “You’re not concerned?”
She shook her head and smiled, looking less stressed than I’d ever seen her. Her eyes seemed a little puffier than normal, but other than that, she radiated peace.
Her thumb stroked across mine, over and over, her gaze following the motion. “When you left, I kind of fell apart.”
“I’m sorry for walking away,” I interjected, hating to see her hurting.
