Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
brOOKS
“One more glass and then we’ll be done,” the groom says, his eyes a little blurred as he lifts the final taster of red wine to his lips. He’s made the rookie mistake of not spitting out the wine after he’s tasted it. I lost count about four glasses ago, mostly because I’m distracted by Will glaring at me from across the table.
“We won’t be done, man,” his best man tells him. “I’ve already ordered our first round at the casino.”
“I promised Cassie I wouldn’t be hungover in the morning.” Derek frowns. “I’m getting married. I’m gonna be a married man. Shit.” There’s a distinct tinge around his lips as he looks over at Grant. “Tell me that married life is good.”
Grant shrugs. “It has its positive sides.”
“Name them,” the best man says.
Grant blinks and runs his thumb over his jaw. “You get to wake up next to your best friend every morning.”
The best man makes a retching sound. Grant turns to glare at him. “You’ll be next.”
“No I won’t. Brooks is next up.”
Everyone sitting close enough to hear turns to look at me. Including Will. He looks almost mutinous. I’m thinking that news of our ‘engagement’ leaking out was a good idea.
If it was Emma’s aim to make him jealous then she’d be delighted if she could see his face right now. If it wasn’t too obvious, I’d take a picture and send it to her.
“Have you talked about when you’re doing it?” Grant asks.
I inadvertently swallow down my mouthful of wine. Shit . “Soon,” I say, mostly because I want to rile Will up. “We both agree it’s pointless to wait.”
“She’s not pregnant, is she?” Derek’s eyes turn stupidly wide.
Will’s head whips around to glare at me. “Of course she’s not,” he says. “She was drinking wine last night.”
He was scrutinizing her. That makes me mad.
“A short engagement sounds delightful,” Grant says. “We were engaged for three years. It was goddamned purgatory. We were expected to act as husband and wife everywhere we went, except for when we stayed with her family. They insisted on separate bedrooms even though we already lived together.”
Will’s gaze is still burning into my face. “Weren’t you engaged before?” he asks.
Derek’s eyes widen. “Christ, I’d forgotten about that. What was her name again?”
“Lianne Parker,” the best man says. “Wasn’t she one of the Long Island Parkers? Loaded and pretty. A fatal combination.”
There’s a twitch in Will’s jaw. I wonder what it would be like to punch it. It’s a pleasant diversion, much more pleasant than thinking about my previously failed engagement.
The ending was a fucking mess. And the reason I can’t give Emma the kind of relationship she deserves.
And not one of the men here needs to know about that.
The best man’s phone vibrates. He pulls it out and reads the message on his screen. “The buses are ready. We need to head out,” he says, standing up and shouting at everybody to get their attention.
One excruciating wine tasting down, one almost-certainly more excruciating casino visit to go. And then I can see Emma.
I tell myself it’s because I’m worried about her. She’s the only thing that’s made this trip bearable. Thank God we get to sit next to each other during the ceremony and reception tomorrow.
When I pull myself out of my thoughts I notice Will is still staring at me. I stare back, and he shrugs as he stands up. “Gentlemen,” he says, “I’m gonna have to take an Uber back to the ranch. I just got a message from Jemima. She’s not feeling good.”
“This is why you should turn your phone off,” the best man says. “Then you’d never know.”
I walk over to the vineyard parking lot, a skip in my step because at least I don’t have to put up with Will’s dark-looking stares for the rest of the bachelor party. Sure, I still don’t want to be here. I’d much rather pull my nails out, one by one, truth be told. But if I have to endure it, him being gone will make it so much easier.
As I go to climb into the third executive coach, I see Will’s Uber arrive out of the corner of my eye. He gets in and the car speeds away as I take the seat at the front and pull out my phone.
How’s it going? We’ve finished the wine tasting. Only three people vomited, which I think is a win. Wish you were here. – Brooks
I hit send, trying to picture where Emma might be right now. She said they’d be sitting around the pool in between spa treatments. There’s also a DJ and a cocktail bar, so I’m pretty sure she’ll be having a better time than I am.
I’m glad she is. She deserves it.
Hey you! I’m sipping at a margarita. Just had a massage and I’m feeling so relaxed I’m not sure I have a single bone left in my body anymore. When I told Mia that she said that you’d make sure I have one in me later. Which was kind of funny. I think. – Emma
Hilarious. – Brooks
I go to type out that I miss her. But fuck, nobody’s reading our messages. Still, it takes everything in me not to slide my finger across the keyboard on my screen and type out those three words.
Cassie sent down matching bikinis for all the girls this morning and I glimpsed at Emma in hers when she was getting dressed. It was green with little criss cross straps. A perfect contrast to her pale skin and tumbling waves of red hair. She had it down and it is so long it reaches the swell of her breasts.
I clear my throat, and shift in my seat.
You’ll have a bone in you later.
It’s a stupid, crass joke, but my mind lingers on it, anyway. I wonder what went through her mind when her friend said it. Did she think about how it would feel the way I am right now?
The way I have been for months?
I close my eyes, remembering the way she stared at me as she touched me all over yesterday. The darkness in her gaze as she went to unzip my pants.
“Okay, losers, the vineyard gave us some wine to drink on the way to the casino,” the best man yells, walking onto the coach. I open my eyes to see him standing there with a box of bottles, all uncorked. “Take a sip and pass it on,” he says, holding a bottle out to me.
Because I have no energy left to argue, I lift the bottle to my lips and pretend to take a sip, then pass it on to the guy on the other side of the aisle to me.
“I don’t think I have herpes,” I tell him. “Fingers crossed.”
He ignores me and swallows down the biggest mouthful I’ve seen.
And I’m thinking Will had the right idea by escaping back to the ranch. I’d rather be taking work calls in the yurt than doing this.
EMMA
“What kind of bachelorette party do you think you’ll have?” Mia asks me. It’s late afternoon and we’re sitting around the pool, all our spa treatments done. I’ve limited myself to one cocktail – I’ve gone virgin for the rest of them – and I’m feeling more like myself, despite the weirdness of this situation.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “It’s all come as a bit of a shock. I had no idea Brooks was going to propose.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little soon?” a voice says from over my shoulder. I look to see Jemima standing next to our sunbeds. Mia rolls her eyes at the intrusion.
“I guess when you know you know,” Mia says to her cousin. “Like one minute you’re in the bathroom at a wedding and the next your panties are around your ankles.”
I stifle a laugh at that one. Mostly because the look on Jemima’s face is priceless. But also, because it doesn’t hurt one bit thinking about it.
He’s out of my system. The whole thing is. I’m so happy about that. I go to pick up my phone to message Brooks to tell him, because he’s the only person who would understand. But then I put it down again, because seriously? Why would he care?
Jemima huffs and walks away, and Mia grins at me again. “You should have a book-themed bachelorette party. It would be so cute.”
“Yeah,” I say. “We could all go to the library, choose a book, and read quietly for six hours.”
We both laugh but then my phone beeps. I haven’t heard from Brooks since earlier when they were on their way to the casino, but my lips curl anyway. I like him texting me.
I like him.
I let out a sigh. That’s a problem for another day. Still, I’m stupidly eager as I lift the phone up, only to feel that excitement drift away when I see the message isn’t from Brooks at all. It’s from an unknown number.
I need to talk to you. Meet me in the library in ten minutes. – Will
I stare at it for a little too long.
“What’s up?” Mia asks. “Is it your granddad?”
I shake my head. I spoke to him this morning when we were waiting for our first spa treatment. “No, it’s nothing,” I say quickly, typing out a reply.
No thank you. – Emma
Thinking that will be the end of it, I go to put my phone back on the coffee table next to my sunbed, but then it buzzes again. Can’t the man take no for an answer?
Either you come and listen to what I have to say, or I’ll do it in front of everybody tonight. – Will
I let out a sigh, and Mia gives me a quizzical look. “It’s nothing,” I tell her again. “I’m just going to head to the bathroom.”
“Am I boring you?” she teases.
“Of course not.” I give her a vague smile, because I’m trying not to look furious. There’s no way I want to talk to Will, but I definitely don’t want him making a scene tonight. Not when it’s the eve of Cassie’s wedding. “I’ll be right back.”
“Make sure you are.” She blows me a kiss and grabs her own phone, scrolling through it. I pull my cover up over my head and slide my feet into my flip flops, mouthing over to Cassie that I’ll be right back before I walk over to the path that leads to the main ranch house.
It’s deserted when I push the back door open. I pass the guest bathroom we’ve been using all day and walk down to the front of the house, trying to remember where the library is from Cassie’s whirlwind tour.
Luckily – or unluckily – Will chooses that moment to open the door. “There you are,” he says. “Come in here.”
“You’re not going to murder me, are you?” I ask. “Because I’ve seen all those true crime documentaries.”
“Of course I’m not. I’m here to help you,” he says, closing the door behind him and putting his back against it, as though he’s afraid I’ll try to escape.
For the second time in ten minutes, I try to stifle a laugh. When has this man ever helped me?
But then I look around the room and just having books surrounding me makes me feel relaxed. This is the kind of library a beast would give to a beauty. Three walls are filled with leather-bound books, embossed with gold writing. There’s even a ladder on wheels to help you reach the highest shelves.
“Did you know this isn’t the first time your fiance’s been engaged?” Will says, not bothering with any niceties.
“Sorry?” I frown. And he smiles, because I’ve made it obvious that I didn’t know.
“No,” he says, his voice soft. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry to be the one bringing bad news to you.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, hating the way my heart is suddenly pounding against my chest. “Why would it matter that he used to be engaged?”
I admit that I feel a bit hurt. I told him all about Will and our messed up relationship. That would have been the perfect time for him to tell me he was engaged once. It’s a reminder of how fake this whole situation is.
“I guess the fact of the engagement matters less than the reason they broke up. That’s what I found out today. I’ve spent a very enlightening afternoon talking to his ex.”
It’s a strange feeling, wanting to know everything and nothing all at the same time. “Maybe that’s Brooks’ story to tell,” I get out.
“But he’s not telling you it, is he? Did you know that after he broke it off, his ex-fiancée had to be admitted to a clinic for treatment?”
I swallow hard.
“Liane Parker, that’s her name.” He pulls up a photograph on his phone and shows me. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”
I look at the willowy beautiful blonde staring out through the screen and a shot of jealousy rushes through me. Yes, she’s beautiful. She’s wearing a silver dress, her hair tumbling over her shoulders. There’s barely any makeup on her face but she honestly doesn’t need it.
Will scrolls through his phone and then shows me another photograph. This time she’s standing in front of a building. Brooks is with her, his arm around her waist, the two of them laughing at whoever is taking the photograph.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so relaxed. So happy.
My stomach twists. I’m not going to be jealous of my fake fiance’s ex. That would be stupid. He’s single now, that’s all that matters.
Or engaged to me. Whatever .
“You don’t know this man,” Will tells me.
“Yes I do,” I say stubbornly, even if it feels like a lie. But I’m in this thing deep. I’m not even sure I know how to tell the truth anymore.
“If you knew him, you’d know about his relationship with Liane. Ever wondered why he’s hidden that from you?” Will asks. “Ever wondered what else he’s hiding?”
“No.” I shake my head stubbornly.
Will’s gaze is narrow as his eyes catch mine. “Has he told you he can’t have kids?”
I blink. “What?”
“I thought not,” Will says smugly. “But it’s true. I got it from the horse’s mouth. Liane was very informative when I spoke to her earlier. And she was very clear. Brooks Salinger can’t have kids. That’s why things went wrong between them.” He looks so pleased with himself it makes me shiver. “I wonder why he never told you that before he asked you to marry him.”
His words are like a slap to my face. Brooks can’t have children? Why did he never tell me about that? I hate how blindsided I feel. I blink away the tears that sting at my eyes. I thought he trusted me.
“It’s okay to be shocked,” Will says, his voice soft. “And I know I hurt you. But we were never engaged. I never made you any promises.”
“I’m sure Brooks has his reasons for not telling me,” I say stubbornly, trying to ignore the twinge in my chest. But it hurts, dammit. I hate that he didn’t tell me.
And it hits me. I told him everything about me. About losing my family, about losing Will. How much it all hurt. But he kept his cards so close to his chest.
“Yeah, his main reasons are he’s using you,” he says, his voice harsh.
I narrow my eyes at Will. “Why are you telling me this? What does it have to do with you?” I try to bluster it out, because I do not want this man knowing I’m hurt by this.
Will swallows. “I know the way we ended wasn’t… good.”
“I saw you balls deep in another woman,” I point out. “Not good doesn’t cut it.”
His nostrils flare as he inhales. “I know. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. Nobody does. But you don’t deserve this either. And maybe it’s time for me to make up for what I did to you.”
I blink. “You just don’t want me to be happy,” I tell him.
“That’s not true. I want you to be happy. Just not with him.”
“Then with who?” Or is it whom? I frown, trying to remember.
“Somebody who can give you what you need.” He reaches out to cup my face, but I take a step back just in time. “Seriously, sweetheart, you deserve better than him.”
“Thanks, but I think that’s my decision.” I take a breath.
“You’ve always wanted to be a mom. We talked about it when we were together.”
“That’s not true,” I tell him. “I said I wanted a family. That’s different.” At least that’s the truth.
He frowns. “How?”
And I realize that he has no idea about me, about my life. About the need to be with people who love me. I don’t care about having kids of my own, I just want to belong somewhere.
With somebody.
“Goodbye, Will,” I say, my jaw tightening. “Please don’t message me again. Or talk to me.”
“Emma…”
I turn on my heel and walk out of the library before he can see the tears stinging at my eyes. I don’t even know why I feel like crying. Maybe I feel humiliated or sad, or a mixture of every emotion.
All I know is that I need to be alone right now.