A Billion Reasons (Wish 8)

34 - A Spell

Fairy tales did come true. Being with Monty fulfilled every fantasy, but his idea was crazy. What transpired in the hotel room wasn't a complete shock. When they danced, he had held her tight, and they had been getting closer. Marriage was in a different league than sex. It wasn't a whim.

As he pulled her arm into the wedding chapel, she resisted. The list of all the reasons it was a bad idea was very long. The list of why it was a good idea had two bullets. She loved him and she wanted to heal him. She could break herself while fixing the man she loved. Was it a risk she was willing to take? Did she love him enough? She knew Rosa's answer. Her conscience had her sister's voice. She needed her own voice.

She planted her feet and his caramel eyes turned to her pleading. So often she could see the hurt boy behind them. Bea thought they should be together. She wanted Sofia to nurture him. Did she mean marriage?

He pulled her so her body smashed into his hard body. "I want you. I want you by my side and in my bed every night." He didn't make promises of love. "Come. It feels right, like fate."

"Fate or magic?"

He laughed. "We both made wishes. I'll always take care of you. It will be perfect."

Perfect? He was perfect. Her body still hummed from the ways he touched it. She thought sex was hot with Jace, but she and Monty were on fire.

Maybe she was drunk from sex, but she let him drag her into the chapel. Before she could hear Rosa's voice begging her, she said, "I do."

Not only had she married him, but she became a Whitby, with no regard to the Colombian tradition of keeping her parents' names. She felt drunk from the whirlwind or was it his pheromones.

Once on the sidewalk, Monty smiled genuinely. "Thank you, baby. I'll make you the happiest person on the planet."

"I want you to be happy."

"I am. Happier than I've been in a long time. I was tired of being alone."

"What about Gray?"

"He's my best friend, but he's not warm and cuddly. He deals with my crises by forcing me to work out. You kiss me."

Along with champagne from room service, they celebrate with their bodies. Feeling a buzz, she picked up his arm and studied the green ink.

"What does it mean?"

"That I have loved and been loved."

"By Sloane." She moved away slightly.

"But I don't love her like that anymore. In the year since her birthday, I've changed. You've helped me. Gray and Trista too, until Trista tried to kill us."

"What exactly have you been doing on your trips you never trusted to tell me about?"

"Until today, exactly four people knew the identity of Trista Montgomery. Me. Gray. My friend and publisher Oliver Sumner and my editor. Not even their assistants know."

"But it wasn't hard."

"Because I let you into my life. I keep the world at arm's length."

"Is that why you let everyone think you're a drunk?"

"It's a big reason, but also I drank too much as a kid and they see what they want to see."

"Do you expect to walk into Bea's with me?"

"Would you like that?"

Yes. No. "We didn't think about my family. You may not care about your parents, but I care about mine. Unless you come clean, they won't want me with you."