Beautiful Sacrifice (The Maddox Brothers, #3)(71)

I leaned in, pressing my lips to his, and I sighed as he wrapped his arms around me.

“It doesn’t make you selfish, Falyn. I’m the selfish one. Jesus, I’m sorry, too. I just want to forget about it, okay? Can we do that? It’s just you and me. Nothing else matters.”

As he held me in his arms, the world was right again. I was never so glad to be wrong.

He pulled away with a frown. “I have to get around. The guys are all in Shep’s room, getting ready.” He stood up, leading me back into the room by the hand.

I sat on the end of the bed, watching as he opened the closet and pulled out a plastic-covered tux. He held it up, shrugging. “America insisted we go traditional.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you in that.”

“Fresh towels are in the bathroom if you want to take a shower before the ceremony. I’ve already had one, and I feel like I need another one.”

“Maybe you should take one with me?” I said, arching an eyebrow.

He dropped the tux and rushed to kneel next to me. “We’re okay, right?”

I nodded.

He planted a kiss on my lips. When he pulled away, disappointment flashed in his eyes. “I wish I could. The ceremony is in the gazebo on the beach. Just around the corner and down the stairs.”

“See you in ninety minutes,” I said, waving to him as he walked backward through the door.

When the door closed, I slipped off my sandals and padded across the tiles to the cold marble floor of the bathroom. The quiet allowed me enough time to think about my awkward reunion with Taylor, and a lump formed in my throat. Colorado Springs was a thousand miles away, and I couldn’t seem to hide from the guilt. Instead of seeing it in my reflection in the mirror, it had been in Taylor’s eyes.

As glad as I was to see him and to know that he wanted me despite the knowledge that we would never have children, something still felt off. So many questions crowded my mind. Maybe I had hurt him beyond repair. Maybe what I had done to him changed him. Maybe it had changed us.

My shirt stuck to my damp skin as I lifted the bottom hem. The air was so thick that it still covered me, even after I peeled off my clothes.

I tried not to cry while in the shower, scolding myself for finding a way to be melancholy while in a marble bathroom under a shower with high water pressure instead of the antique plumbing in the loft. After a while, I reasoned that my face was wet anyway, and I was alone, so I might as well get it out of my system.

So, I cried. I cried for Olive, for my parents, for what I’d done to Taylor. I cried for not being content before, and I cried because I knew we couldn’t get that back. Being the first woman Taylor loved, I had no idea what it must have taken him to admit it to himself—or me. I had destroyed that trust, seemingly for no reason. I cried because I was angry. And then I cried for crying on a beautiful tropical island in a five-star resort.

When I was all cried out, I washed, rinsed, and pulled on the lever, the stream of water disappearing as if it were never there, just like a Caribbean rain shower.

I wrapped the fluffiest white towel I’d ever touched around my chest and stepped out, wiping the moisture from the mirror.

There I was, a blurry mess, but this time, I had puffy red eyes. “Shit.” I quickly wet a rag with cold water and held it against my eyes.

When they looked almost back to normal, I combed out my wet hair and then used the hotel blow-dryer. The ceremony was in forty-five minutes. I had taken longer in the shower than I’d meant to.

I rushed around the room, pulling on the maxi dress I’d borrowed from Kirby. The fabric was light and flowy, the empire waist making the V-neckline feel a bit more modest. My favorite part about it was the ombre design, the cream color darkening to pinkie-peach and then a dusty purple. It reminded me of a sunset on the beach, so that had automatically made it an appropriate choice.

I twisted my hair into a sleek, low side bun, and I did my best to put on enough makeup to look a bit more formal. I sucked at being a girl.

When Taylor had said to take the stairs around the corner and down to the beach, I hadn’t realized there would be a hundred of them. I took my skirt in my fists and tried not to let my sandals slap against the smooth rock with every step. A small lizard scurried just in front of my feet, and I yelped.

A hotel employee chuckled at me as he passed me, going in the opposite direction. I was glad he was the only witness.

Finally reaching the walkway below, I caught a glimpse of white muslin blowing in the ocean breeze, and I headed in that direction. A handful of white chairs were positioned in front of a white gazebo, white fabric was draped around the pillars, and dozens of roses in muted tones covered the tie-downs.

Jim sat alone in the front row, in the chair closest to the aisle, and I lumbered down the white-sand walkway, navigating it poorly in my shoes. When I finally reached him, he looked up at me with a warm expression.

“You made it,” he said, patting the empty chair on his right.

“I did. You’re probably surprised, huh?”

“I was hoping.”

I grinned, leaning away from him to see his expression. I didn’t know him well enough to be certain that he wasn’t being a smart-ass. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

“Hi! I’m here!” a woman said, stumbling past Jim and me before falling into the chair next to me. “Whew!” she said, brushing her long dark curls behind her bare shoulders. She was wearing a white tank top with a long floral skirt. Her big ice-blue eyes overshadowed the intermittent batting of her lashes. She looked like a supermodel, but she moved like an overgrown teenager.