Talon

"What the fuck, Mom? Is this some kind of joke?"

"Talon, lower your voice. What's wrong?"

"You know what's wrong. This. This entire mess," I seethe, exasperated. "We have nothing in common. Zero. Zilch. Nada. She hates me. She hates the way I look. And she's not what I wanted either. I wanted a tall, blond model type. She's too…cute for me. She's short. And she hates to travel. And she's got, like, no tits." Asia winces as I rattle off my list.

My mother sighs into the phone. "Honey, calm down. There is way much more to this than what you two are seeing on the surface. Right now, you're just focusing on looks and trivial things. And that's to be expected. We talked about this in the sessions, remember? That it would take a while to get used to the other person."

"I know, but come on! We got nothing here!"

"Talon, get your shit together." My father has taken the phone from my mother. Crap. "You don't talk about women like that, especially your wife. You both agreed to this, and you've been together for less than six hours. Calm the hell down and give it time. Relationships take work. You don't just add water and stir."

"Dad…"

"Get off the phone and go be an adult with your wife. Try talking to her and forget about her tits. We're hanging up now."

Click.

"That went well," Asia comments from her perch on the couch.

"Fucking great." Tossing my phone back onto the dresser, I scan the room for something to drink that’s nonalcoholic, because if I start drinking, I'm not going to stop.

"So it's not a mistake?"

Taking a soda out of the small refrigerator in the corner of the room, I shake my head at her. "Apparently not." I guzzle half the bottle. "For whatever fucked-up reason, they put us together. Probably to see how fast one of us runs for the door."

"Soda is bad for you. Especially gulping it like that. You should drink water."

I glare at her before I take another large gulp of the soda because I'm a rebel like that. "Don't even," I warn. "If you tell me you're one of those vegan, no-gluten, sugar-hating, non-meat-eating, smoothie-slurpin' chicks, I'm going to lose my shit right here."

Her eyes widen. "Okay, then…"

She looks lost, huddled up on the couch with that huge robe on, hugging herself, her eyes red and puffy. She's upset. I don't have to know her, or even like her, to see it written all over her face.

"I'm sorry," I say unconvincingly. "I don't mean to be such an asshole."

"It's okay… I shouldn't have said anything." She stares at the floor where her wedding gown lays in a heap. Shit. It's not supposed to be like this.

"No, it's not okay." I said some really mean things to her. This is what I didn't want anymore—stupid fights with women who don't care about me and who I sure as shit don't care about. I wanted better than this, and I'm sure Asia did too.

But a tiny light bulb goes off in my brain. I do care this time. Just a tiny bit, but it's there. My chest aches in a funny way seeing her upset, knowing I've hurt her feelings, and that she's scared of all this. And that's a first for me.

Maybe that means something.

Or maybe I just drank too much soda.

I sit back on the couch next to her and take her left hand awkwardly into mine, rubbing my thumb across the platinum band I slid onto her tiny finger just a few hours ago. She's mine. I'm not sure why, but she's mine now. My partner in this mess.

"We in this together?" I ask her, softening my voice.

"Yeah." She sniffles and squeezes my hand.

"I don't know about you, but I didn't answer a thousand questions about what I wanted in a wife to just give up."

She gives me a weak smile. "Me neither."

"So…here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna sleep in the bed, I'm gonna sleep on this couch, and we're gonna get some rest. In the morning, we're gonna order everyfuckingthing on the breakfast menu, and then figure out where we're going to live. We'll start over and forget about long hair, tits, and tattoos. Okay, jelly bean?"

Biting her lower lip, she nods. "Okay. I can do that."

I release her hand and she stands, the robe parting enough to give me a perfect view of her white lace bra, panties, stockings, and belt. And damn, she's actually a hot little thing. I bite my tongue to keep myself from making a sarcastic sex comment, which is really hard for me. Really hard.

She quickly pulls the robe closed and turns to me before walking off. "You can take the bed; you're bigger than me. I can sleep out here."

"No way. You get the bed. There's always extra pillows and blankets in the closet I can use. I'm fine. I've slept on way worse than this."

She walks to the closet and pulls out two pillows and a blanket, then comes back and hands them to me with a shy smile.

"Thanks."

"Goodnight, Talon."

She follows the path of forgotten, lonely, wilted rose petals to the bedroom—our honeymoon suite—and disappears as she closes the door softly behind her.

"Goodnight, Asia," I whisper after her, bunching the pillow up under my head and pulling the thin blanket over me.

So here I am, married to what is supposed to be the woman of my dreams, and I'm still sleeping on a couch in a hotel room. Alone. Without my Egyptian cotton sheets. Or my wife.

Somehow the team managed to find the one woman on the East Coast who doesn't want to fuck me. Or do anything else with me, for that matter.

Well-played, romance experts. Well-played.

Chapter 10

Asia

Dim light wakes me, beaming through the slit between the closed curtains. It takes me a few squinty moments to remember where I am.

The honeymoon suite.

I hold my left hand out and stare at the foreign ring, then slowly pull it off to read the inscription inside the band. In the craziness of yesterday, I had forgotten that a few weeks before the wedding we were asked to have a few words inscribed in our future spouse's band, to give us something to look back on later when hopefully our marriages were successful.

I asked to have the words laugh with me, love with me inscribed into his.

Mine has no beginning, no end, just now inscribed.

Hmm. I like that a lot, but I am curious what it means, exactly. Maybe like a live-in-the-moment sort of thing? I'm just grateful he didn't put something like rock on!

Sliding the ring back onto my finger, I yawn and stretch in the huge bed. I feel bad he slept on the couch while I slept in this bed that could fit ten people. His gesture of sleeping on the couch and letting me have the bedroom was very gentlemanly, though, which I appreciate. He's obviously got a considerate side under his wild exterior.

I crawl out of the bed and pull the fluffy white robe on over my panties. I ditched the bra and garter belt getup last night before I fell asleep, feeling silly for having them on to begin with. And I can't really blame him for the tease comment. I shouldn't have worn something sexy if I wasn't ready to actually have sex.

But…if he had been more of what I pictured in my mind, would the night have ended differently? Would I have slept with him if he had short hair, no tats, worked in an office, and wasn't a rock star? Maybe. I wonder what that says about me.

Quietly opening the bedroom door, I step out into the sitting room area and immediately notice the couch is empty, the blanket folded neatly and placed on top of the pillows.

"Talon?" I call out and peek into the bathroom, but he's not in there, or out on the balcony.

Assuming he went down to the lobby to get coffee, I grab some clothes out of my bag and head to the bathroom to take a hot shower. I look like a mess with my makeup still on from last night, and my hair is all stiff from the amount of gel, texturizer, and hairspray Kat used to get it to stay where she wanted it.

I take an extra long shower, enjoying the water pressure and the fact that I'm not running out of hot water in five minutes like at my apartment. Then I dry off and pull on my jeans and a purple V-neck T-shirt that I adorned with little rhinestones a few weeks ago. I blow-dry my hair as straight as I can, irritated that I forgot my flat iron, and open the bathroom door, hoping we can somehow figure this marriage thing out.

But he's not here.

Glancing at the time on my cell, I realize I was in the bathroom for at least forty-five minutes. It wouldn't take him that long to get a coffee. His cell phone, Zippo lighter, and cigarettes aren't on the dresser where he threw them last night, either. His bag is still here, but there's probably nothing in there he can't live without and wouldn't mind just leaving to make a quick getaway.

He's gone.

Blinking back the tears in my eyes, I stare around the room, hoping to at least find a note, but there's nothing.

Obviously his we're in this together statement meant nothing.

Tears of anger and disappointment burn down my cheeks as I quickly shove my clothes into my small bag and roll the wedding gown into a big ball and head for the door. I'll call Kat from the lobby and have her come pick me up and take me home. I don't even want to talk to Dr. Hollister or Kim right now. There's nothing they can say or do to make this better. Not even a team of experts could pick a guy who's willing to stay with me longer than one night.

Nunnery, here I come.

Just as I'm about to open the door, the electronic key beeps and Talon walks in, almost knocking me over. Eyeing me suspiciously, he lays his phone and cigarettes on the little table next to the door.

"Were you leaving?" he asks in disbelief. "You were just gonna ditch me here?"

I drop my bag and the huge gown at my feet. "I thought you left." I wipe at my eyes, embarrassed to be crying in front of him. "I woke up and you were gone. It's been over an hour. All your stuff is gone."

He points to his duffel bag on the floor. "My stuff is right over there."

"I meant your phone and your cigarettes."