Chapter Seventeen
Victory
Music and the din of conversation swirl around us as we wait for our drinks by the bar.
Seth is busy texting, and Wells is sending pictures of the warehouse to his family.
I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m high on his happiness.
That has been happening a lot lately. Just seeing his smiling eyes, hearing his voice, or getting a text brings a rush of lightness to my often heavy days.
Wells pockets his phone and leans closer. “I’m going to have to properly thank you for this later.”
I thought after nearly two months, the thrill of being together might lessen, but it’s only gotten stronger. “I’m counting on it.”
He presses those warm lips to mine, and I sink into them.
I can’t wait to get back to his hotel suite.
Our lives have woven together these last few weeks in ways I never imagined, and it happened so seamlessly, it’s hard to remember when we didn’t spend Wednesday and Friday nights in each other’s arms. I love our Wednesday nights and even our rushed Thursday mornings.
But Friday nights have become my favorite, because there’s no rush to leave the next morning.
Before Wells, I’d never seen the allure of a lazy Saturday.
Now I look forward to lying in his arms as the sun comes up, making love or talking, and getting dirty all over again in the shower.
We never leave the suite before ten or eleven.
We’d probably stay all day if we didn’t have just as much fun getting lost in the city.
“Sorry about that,” Seth says, drawing me from my thoughts. “I was just filling in Jared and T about the property.” Taylor aka T is Seth’s virtual assistant.
“What’d Jared think?” Wells asks.
“He loves the idea and wants to see the property. Vic, do you think we can get in tomorrow?”
“You can get in anytime this weekend. I told Kane you might want to go back a few times before making a decision.” I hand Seth the key to the warehouse. “Just return the key to him by Monday afternoon.”
“Will do.” Seth pockets the key. “Wells, Taylor’s going to have our legal team get started on due diligence, which will take a few days. Then he’ll schedule a time for us and Jared to meet with Kane. What’s your schedule like the week after next?”
“I’ll definitely be in town Wednesday and Friday evenings.” Wells glances knowingly at me. “But I’ll make myself available anytime. Just give me a day’s notice to get coverage at Rock Bottom, and I’ll be there.”
The bartender serves our drinks, and Wells and Seth reach for their wallets. Wells is quicker. “I’ve got this one.”
Seth nods. “Thanks. Next round is on me.”
“Thanks, Wells.” I lift my glass in a toast. “To new endeavors. I hope you negotiate a great deal, and the restaurant turns out even better than your highest expectations.”
We all tap glasses and drink.
“Here’s to you, sis,” Seth says, lifting his glass. “I’m kind of pissed at myself for not thinking of going back to Kane about that property.”
Wells slides an arm around my waist and says, “Not everyone can be as on top of their game as my girl is.”
“I’ll drink to that.” I tap his glass, catching a warm, approving look from Seth.
While Noah and Clay have taken great pleasure in teasing me about jumping on the Wells wagon , Seth and Flynn sought me out separately to talk about it on a more serious level.
Now that they know I’m in a good place, they also enjoy their fair share of teasing.
I’m glad they’re all happy for me. I’m happy for me, too.
Wells pulls his phone out of his pocket to read a text and scoffs.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
“My family. Check out Fitz and my sisters’ back-and-forth about the pictures I sent.” He turns the phone so we can see the text thread.
Mom: How lovely! I’m sure you, Seth, and Jared will make it beautiful.
Fitz: A bomb might be in order.
Bellamy: I’m not stepping foot in that place unless you disinfect it.
Keira: Are you at a murder site?
Dad: It’ll be great, son. They have no vision.
Bellamy: Dad needs glasses.
Fitz: Wells really has hit rock bottom.
Several laughing emojis pop up, and Wells puts his phone in his pocket.
“Gotta love family,” Seth says.
“Have you guys thought up a name for the restaurant yet?”
“We’re thinking about using Rock Bottom, to help build the brand so we can take it national,” Seth says.
“That’s great,” I exclaim. “Then Wells can throw it in Fitz’s face when hitting Rock Bottom becomes the go-to outing in the city, which we all know it will.”
“Damn right it will,” Wells says.
Seth lifts his glass again. “To Rock Bottom.”
“To Rock Bottom,” Wells and I say in unison, and then we laugh, kiss, and drink.
“To you two,” Seth says, lifting his glass.
Wells and I share an affectionate glance and say, “To us.”
As the evening moves on, Wells and I dance while women flirt with my brother. Then we hang out with Seth, chatting about everything from the restaurant to my work and even our Saturday outings around the city.
“I need to find a friend,” Seth says.
Wells lifts his chin in the direction of two women who were flirting with Seth earlier. “Those women seemed interested.”
“I don’t think I’ll find what I’m looking for in a bar,” Seth says.
“When did you turn into a negative Nelly?” I tease him. “You know what Mom says.”
Seth looks at me questioningly.
“The best things come along when you’re not looking for them,” I remind him.
Wells lifts his glass. “I can attest to that.”
“Me too,” I say, and we toast.
When we finally leave the bar, Seth says, “Thanks again for everything, Vic. You really are the best sister I have.”
“Ha ha.” I hug him. “I’m glad you liked the space, and I hope it works out.”
“Me too.” He turns to Wells and says, “Wells, I’ll be in touch about the meeting.”
“Sounds good.”
As Seth climbs into a car, Wells drapes an arm over my shoulders, pulling me in close, and says, “You done good, Braden.”
“Thank you. It was incredibly hard keeping it a secret from you. I wanted to tell you so many times. I’m glad you both loved it.”
“It’s perfect, but you owe me a treasure map.”
I tap his chest. “Play your cards right, and maybe I’ll make you one someday.”
“That’s good enough for me.” He takes me in a slow, sensual kiss, then brushes his lips over mine and says, “You know I’m picturing you all bossy and demanding with Kane, and I’m a little jealous. That’s hot.”
“Oh yeah? I don’t think he considered it hot when I was shooting down his thoughts on pricing.”
“I thought you said you didn’t negotiate a price.”
“I didn’t negotiate a price, but I did knock down his suggestions and tell him I wouldn’t waste your time with the numbers he tossed out during our first meeting.”
Wells grins. “I knew you were too fierce to just kick the door open. Maybe bossy Victory would like to come out to play tonight.”
Heat streaks through me at the thought. As much as I love it when he takes charge, it’s wicked fun to turn the tables. “She might need a little coaxing. Maybe you can convince her on the way to your hotel.”
“I was hoping we could stay at your place tonight.”
Apprehension slams into me, sudden, sharp, and as unyielding as it is unexpected at the thought of bringing him into the home Harvey and I shared.
The joy fades from his eyes, and I realize I’m shaking my head. My chest constricts at the hurt and confusion staring back at me. I open my mouth to try to explain, but no words come. Panic flares inside me.
“You’re not ready,” he says flatly, taking a step back.
I can’t breathe. Say something. Tell him he’s wrong . I want to explain, but my voice is strangled by fear.
“I thought we were on the same page. All this time, all these nights, I’ve been falling for you, thinking we were building something more.
” He scrubs a hand down his face. “I should’ve known.
You’ve never taken me up on spending time on the island, and I’ve waited weeks for you to invite me over to your place.
You don’t even let me come up to your office.
We always meet out front. All the signs were right there in front of me, but I had blinders on. ”
A stabbing pain shoots through my chest. “Wells—”
“No, it’s okay.” He holds his hand up, silencing me. “I pushed too hard, too fast. It’s not your fault. You were honest from the start. You said you weren’t looking to replace your husband, and I got carried away.”
“I’m sorry” comes out shaky and weak, but I can’t refute the things he’s said. “Can’t we just go to your hotel?”
“No,” he says softly. “I think it’s better if we don’t. I need time and space to get my head on straight. What’s that old saying? Right person, wrong time?” He steps into the street and hails a cab. Then he reaches for my hand.
My heart is breaking, my thoughts spinning, and my throat thickens painfully. I feel like an automaton as he guides me toward the cab. He opens the door, gazing down at me with the dark eyes I’ve come to adore, but they’re not piercing or hungry or playful.
They’re as hurt as the sadness permeating the space between us as he caresses my cheek and says, “You really are an incredible woman.”
He kisses my forehead, and it’s all I can do to duck into the car before my shattering heart takes me to my knees. I startle when he closes the door and watch him through the blur of tears as the car pulls into traffic.