“No.” His voice held a kind of bewilderment. “I need to understand how you didn’t throw up.”
“We can’t know that I didn’t throw up.”
“Sure we can. I remember kissing you later that evening, and I clearly remember that you didn’t taste like tequila vomit.”
Laura only remembered flashes and scraps of kisses, and she suddenly felt like she’d cheated herself out of something special. She felt even more cheated when past-Laura grabbed Charlie’s hand and dragged him out onto the dance floor. It made her downright salty to not recall the feel of his big hands with the graceful fingers all over her body as they swayed to a slow song. Past-her was such a bitch to be keeping all of those smiles and whispers and jokes that had actually made her laugh to herself. Past-Laura knew how to have fun, and past-Charlie had known how to give it to her.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed. Because she certainly hadn’t done much laughing since returning to work three months ago.
“Can you please just fast-forward?”
Charlie complied, and she was both thankful and bereft of the moments she was now deliberately, soberly ignoring. He stopped the tape again when they surrounded the officiant and dragged him into a corner. After a few minutes of what looked like tense negotiating, past-Laura, past-Charlie, and the officiant disappeared from the screen.
He stopped the tape and they stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them saying anything.
“Well?” She wasn’t precisely sure what she was asking, never having accidentally married a stranger who happened to be a family friend.
“I can call Javi and see who handled his divorce.” That wasn’t a call that Laura wanted to make. Her older cousin would be discreet if she begged, but he would hold her shenanigans over her head if it suited him. “I think we can get an annulment because we were both drunk and we didn’t fuck.”
When she said the word “fuck,” Charlie flinched as though she’d punched him. “I like that you’re blunt, Delgado.” He seemed to collect himself, and nodded. “Go ahead and call Javi. I don’t want to pull in the studio’s lawyers on this one.”
“You have lawyers on hand for accidental weddings during shoots?”
The amusement was back in Charlie’s gaze, and it immediately affected her below the belt. “No. We have had on-camera personalities and producers get into legal trouble, but the people we have on staff are business affairs guys. If it was someone else, I’d probably hand this over to them, but neither of us needs my mom finding out that I got married.”
“Would you be embarrassed if your mom found out you’d married me?”
“I thought the whole point was that no one should find out?” He sighed, and clenched his jaw so his dimple made an appearance. “And I’d prefer it if neither of my parents found out about my second failed marriage.”
She was surprised to hear him joke about it, and felt a pang in her chest. Getting married had been a terrible decision for both of them.
“Yes.” She almost choked on the words because she didn’t want anyone to find out, but the idea that she was an embarrassment to him didn’t sit right with her. It probably sat about as well as her coming in here, guns blazing, demanding to know how he’d tricked her into marriage had less than an hour ago.
After that, they sat in silence for long moments. Very awkward silence. Finally, as she was leaning over to get her purse, he said, “Want to grab dinner?”
She wanted to say yes. It seemed like the right thing to do, the normal thing to do, grabbing a bite to eat with her husband, but she couldn’t. Even this hour in the editing room was stolen from her true love—ballet.
“I can’t. Rehearsal.” He winced again when she said that. “Maybe some other time.”
He stood as she did, like a gentleman. Though she’d stormed into this room, thinking he was the bad guy, he was a gentleman. “How about tomorrow?”
She had rehearsal tomorrow evening, too. Most tomorrows she was busy. A pang of regret roiled her empty stomach. She hadn’t felt so much like she was missing out on a whole other life since she was a teenager. When other kids had gone to Friday night football games, she’d been at rehearsal. A boy from a local school had asked her to the prom, rehearsal. She hadn’t even gone to a normal school, with days filled with academic classes. Academics were crammed in between rehearsals and performances, on road trips, and away from her parents and brothers.
Laura hadn’t even realized that she was on her first date until one of the members of the company tried to kiss her after they’d shared salads after yet another rehearsal.
The idea of going to dinner with Charlie—a nice guy even if he weren’t her husband—was so appealing to her that it had crawled into her bones. Which was why she had to shut it down and say no.
Ballet was the only thing she was good at. Outside of her family, it was the only thing she had. They had sacrificed too much for her to jeopardize it because she wanted something as silly as going on a date. Maybe getting to know Charlie Laughlin, a man who had gotten drunk with her and swept her off of her feet when she wasn’t feeling like herself. A part of her she didn’t let out very often, a part of her that she didn’t know very well wanted to remember the full impact of kissing Charlie Laughlin. That part of her wanted to grab onto the one crazy thing she’d ever done in her life and never let go.
“I can’t. We shouldn’t.” There. She didn’t sound very strong, but she’d shut him down. She turned around to leave, not saying goodbye. She knew that if she said anything else, her no would turn into a yes in less than the space of a “see you around.”
“I won’t sign any annulment papers unless you go out with me.”
* * * *
Charlie hadn’t said a lot of stupid shit over the course of his life. He’d negotiated a whole hell of a lot, too. He was the guy his friends and his brothers called when they were in a tight spot because they knew he could bullshit them out of any hidey hole of trouble with his charm and quick words. And, if there was a woman involved, they called him with the quickness.
Still, when Laura had turned around and tried to leave, his wit failed him. Any other girl he would have been able to talk her into dinner after one of her rehearsals, but he’d smelled that for exactly what it was—an excuse. And he didn’t know why it bothered him so much that she’d seemed to dismiss him after she’d gotten what she wanted.
He just knew that his gut twisted at the idea of never seeing the lovely ballerina again.
The idea that she’d walk out the door, file some paperwork, and be able to pretend that she wasn’t the wild sort of thing he’d seen on screen a few minutes ago? That she wasn’t the desirous and giddy woman he’d kissed and touched and held for one night?
Unacceptable.
Despite the reputation that he’d earned in the aftermath of marriage, he didn’t make a habit of lying. But, as soon as she’d offered to get her family involved with getting this whole “oops we got married” thing fixed, he’d panicked a little, and a fib came out.
“We can’t have sex, though.” Her words were slow, as though she were talking to a small child. Funny how her mind went straight to sex when he’d been careful only to mention dinner.
“Why not?” He smiled, enough so that she would know he was teasing. If they had dinner, it would surely lead to the sex they hadn’t had in Bali. There was too much—something—between them for it not to happen. He’d settle for a quickie with Laura if that was the only thing her schedule allowed. A hot, quick screw against the door of her apartment when he dropped her off after dinner probably wasn’t as romantic as what would have happened on his ideal wedding night, but it got him excited