Beneath Your Beautiful (A Chenford | The Rookie Fanfic)

Part Seven: Just Married

Week 1, Day 1: Sunday

When Tim wakes the next morning, it takes a few seconds for him to place where he is, and as all of the events of the prior day come flooding back he squeezes his eyes shut again. Why couldn't it have all just been a terrible dream?

But he is a creature of routine, and they have a flight to Mexico in a few hours, so if he has any hope of squeezing in a quick workout he needs to get his ass into gear.

He turns onto his side to check on the woman that is, crazily enough, technically his wife, and... yup... turns out he is still crazy attracted to her, even without all the glam and frill from the wedding. Lucy is in pretty much the same position she had been in the night prior — curled into a tiny ball so close to the edge of the bed that Tim had honestly thought she'd eventually end up on the floor. The only difference is that she's now facing in toward him instead of facing the wall.

He'd briefly considered offering to take the floor, but ultimately realized there was no way he could do that every night, so he figured they may as well rip that band-aid off, too.

He slowly exhales as he gazes at her sleeping form, a strange mix of emotion swirling in his gut — the weight of remorse tinged with apprehension commingling with an unexpected wave of something other than complete apathy toward her. Not quite fondness, but also definitely not the deep-seated aggravation he'd been feeling toward her, and, well, really everything the day before.

It certainly doesn't mean he wants to be married to her, but obviously, that train has left the station. Setting aside her involvement with that cursed article, objectively, he can't entirely discount the fact that he's been paired with someone who, at least on the surface, appears to be a decent, intelligent, and mildly entertaining human being.

He certainly could have done worse. And given his behavior yesterday, he probably deserved worse.

Tim is still wary that the expectations she had coming into this are going to be problematic for them both, but perhaps there's a middle ground between being a complete asshole and proclaiming his undying love to a complete stranger to explore.

***

Tim isn't in the room when Lucy wakes, and for that, she is deeply grateful. Shockingly, she isn't actually looking forward to spending more time with a man that has been perpetually irritated with her since the moment they met.

Her disappointment is still weighing on her. She had come into this with the best of intentions and admittedly high hopes. But less than twenty-four hours with this man has violently catapulted her right back into reality.

She's never been someone with a long list of criteria she expects in a partner. Never entirely understood the allure of the bad boy or the jerk (though, admittedly, some of the looks Tim had sent her way yesterday were certainly putting that notion to the test). But, ultimately, she's only ever had two non-negotiables — her significant other has to be someone with a kind heart and someone that treats her well.

And the version of himself that Tim had shown her yesterday is far from checking the box on either.

But even despite the mounting evidence that this process isn't going to work for her, that she isn't going to be a part of the 70% that finds their happily ever after, hope has always been something Lucy has had difficulty giving up.

Some (including, apparently, her new husband) may see it as being naive or childish or starry-eyed, but it's a fundamental part of who she is. It has gotten her through her very worst times, and it's not something she will ever apologize for. If her perfect match can't stand or appreciate that part of her, then maybe he's not so perfect for her after all.

***

Lucy is on the floor attempting to get her overstuffed suitcase closed when Tim returns to the room. He's still sweaty from his workout, and for a moment Lucy can't see or process anything other than his arms in that muscle tee. Forcing her gaze to his eyes, she has to immediately remind herself that, again, no amount of hotness compensates for being an asshole.

She's confused when he strides toward her, fully having expected they would continue on with their unspoken pact to ignore each other until forced to do otherwise. Her eyes widen in surprise when he shoves a cup of coffee and two small paper bags in her direction.

He's gruff and to the point when he finally speaks, "I didn't know how you like it or whether you were a breakfast person, so just toss it or whatever if you don't want it."

Lucy is speechless for a second, touched, but also floored, by the unexpected thoughtfulness. Maybe this is his version of an olive branch? She accepts the offering and peers into each of the paper bags. Tim had clearly raided the coffee station for her — there's a whole array of sweetener and creamer options for her to choose from. The second bag contains a warm croissant that smells so good her stomach actually rumbles. Well, that's a little embarrassing.

Her cheeks are tinged pink when she finally looks back up to thank him, but he's already halfway into the bathroom.

"Thanks," she says to his back, figuring now is not the best time to let him know she is more of a tea person. She can certainly use the caffeine after yesterday, regardless.

He pauses, and when he turns back, his eyes have that glimmer of irritation that is beginning to feel like a trademark of his, at least it seems to be his default expression for her, anyway.

He sighs, and again, Lucy is caught off guard when he quickly closes the distance between them and drops onto the floor beside her. He places his hands on the top of the suitcase, forcing it down, and it's not until he arches an eyebrow and jerks his head toward the suitcase in a 'what are you waiting for' gesture that Lucy realizes he's expecting her to zip it shut.

And she should probably be grossed out — he's literally still sweating from his workout, but somehow the mingling scent of his soap and deodorant and exertion could not be more intoxicating to her. She can literally feel the heat radiating from his skin as she maneuvers around him, and her proximity to him in this state has her thinking all sorts of thoughts about his sweaty skin pressed up against hers in a very different context.

He's back on his feet as soon as Lucy has completed her journey around the bag and when he extends a hand out to help her to her feet, she realizes her dick of a husband is apparently capable of being kind of a gentleman.

And that may actually fluster her more than imagining what it would be like to be underneath his perspiring body. She is certain she must be a tomato by the time she is on her feet and meeting his gaze, but if he notices, he doesn't let on.

As usual, his expression is cool and guarded, whereas she is almost positive he must know she is thinking dirty, dirty thoughts about him. He has this way of looking at her that makes her feel like he can see exactly what she is thinking or feeling at any given moment. It's disconcerting, to say the least.

***

The flight to Mexico is pretty uneventful. Tim continues to exist somewhere on the spectrum between not rude and almost pleasant, but they pretty much keep to themselves — him with his headphones on and eyes closed as he tips his head back against the seat and Lucy finally breaking into a political thriller that had been sitting untouched on her coffee table since she bought it six months ago.

When she moves to retrieve her luggage from the overhead bin after they land, Tim places a hand on her waist to stop her, and good lord, when his fingers unexpectedly graze the bare skin that's been exposed by her reach, Lucy momentarily forgets how to breathe.

"I've got it," he says as he reaches up around her to retrieve the bag with significantly less effort. And even though she scrambles to get out of his way, his chest still presses against her back as he retrieves both of their bags. And nope. That is most certainly not her thighs that are involuntarily clenching as she feels every firm muscle of his upper body moving against her. It most certainly is not.

What is this man doing to her? She's flushing so hard she can't even meet his eyes when she mumbles a hurried 'thank you' before moving the hell away from him so she can remember how to behave like a normal person.