Willow
willow
“ M om, I’m fine,” I groaned out, tipping my head back. The sunlight warmed my face as I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Your house was broken into!” she cried. “You could’ve been killed! Or kidnapped! Or worse!”
“What’s worse than that?” I asked dryly.
“I don’t know. Getting sold onto the black market.”
“I mean, yeah, that would’ve been worse.” She continued freaking out, and I gave Ronan an apologetic look. I pulled the phone from my ear and muted it. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright, shortcake.” He chuckled, and went back to mindlessly scrolling on his phone.
“I’m FaceTiming you,” she declared. “I have to see that you’re alright.”
“Mom, I’m fine—” But before the words could fully leave my mouth, the FaceTime ringtone filled the air. I let out another groan as I answered. “See? All fine.”
“Oh, my baby.” She dabbed her eye. “I can’t believe I wasn’t there to kick that guy’s ass!” I huffed out a laugh, glancing quickly at Ronan, finding him smirking. “You must’ve been terrified.”
“It was pretty scary,” I admitted. “But nothing I couldn’t handle. It’s not a big deal.”
I could feel Ronan’s eyes on me, and I hoped he wouldn’t say anything to contradict what I’d just said. She worried enough. I didn’t need to tell her how awful it had been, or how scared I was.
“Did you get new locks? Are you staying with Gracie? Are you still at your place?” Her questions came out in one breath, and I laughed again.
“I’m, uh…” I was unsure if telling her I was staying with Ronan was the best idea or not. But before I could decide, he plucked the phone right out of my hand and aimed the camera at his face.
“Hi,” he said in a voice I’d never heard before. He sounded cheery . I blinked at him. Who was this man? “I’m Ronan.”
My mother didn’t skip a beat as she introduced herself. “I’m Caroline, but you can call me Carrie.” Again, that was not a smile I recognized. His entire face lit up, and his eyes had a gleam in them that made it impossible not to buzz with warmth.
“’s doing alright,” he said as if I weren’t even there. “She was a little shaken up, but she’s a strong girl.”
“I know that’s right.” Mom laughed. My face flamed, and I pressed my hands over it. I wanted the world to swallow me up.
“She’s staying with me for a few days, just until we can get the locks changed and she feels comfortable going back to her place.”
Mom was silent for a few heartbeats. She was unpredictable. I had no idea what her reaction to that would be.
“So, you’re the famous Ronan,” she said. His lips twitched into a smile as I threw myself face down into the sand. Maybe it would suffocate me before my embarrassment could kill me.
“Famous?”
“Oh, yeah. She talks about you all the time.”
“Mom!” I whined. They both laughed like they were old friends, and my face heated. If the world could open up and swallow me whole, that would be amazing.
“All good things, I hope,” he said, and Mom snorted.
“Mostly.” She cleared her throat, and I held my breath, bracing myself for whatever she was about to say. “I didn’t know you were…friends?” I sat back up, brushing the sand off my body.
Ronan’s eyes met mine, and there was a silent question in them. I knew what he was asking, but I wouldn’t be the one to answer it. He had to put a label on this, not me. Because even though we’d kissed—and that kiss had been incredible—nothing else had happened.
He hadn’t kissed me again, and sleeping next to him felt platonic. I secretly hoped something more would happen, but when it didn’t, I realized that maybe the kiss didn’t mean the same thing to him.
I scooted closer to him to get in frame. Mom’s eyes met mine through the phone, and a teasing smile played at her lips. I knew I’d hear about this later.
Her wavy dark hair, streaks of gray throughout, was tied in a messy updo. Her green eyes, the same shade as my own, shone with amusement and questions.
“We’ve started hanging out recently,” I said. That felt like a safe answer.
Ronan didn’t say anything, just rested his shoulder against mine as he held the phone out. Mom flicked her eyes between us, and I could see all the gears in her head turning as she tried to make sense of this.
“So, you’re friends,” she said. It felt like a trap. I glanced at Ronan, waiting to see what his response would be. Again, he said nothing. Just left me to flounder on my own.
“Yeah,” I said. “We’re friends.”
That word stung— friends . It hurt. It burned in my chest, and I hated it. I wanted to crumple that word and bury it, because Ronan Caldwell did not feel like my friend. He felt like everything.
Awkward silence stretched between the three of us. Ronan’s warmth rippled off him in waves, and I basked in it. Mom finally smiled and changed the subject.
“So, will you two be doing something for your birthday next week?” she asked, and I groaned. I’d forgotten to tell her about The Visit.
“Dad’s coming,” I blurted. “He’s bringing his wife and stepdaughter.” She stared at me for a long moment.
“They’re coming to Cedar Ridge?”
“Unfortunately,” I muttered. “They’re staying for a few days, but yeah, Ronan will be with me for that.”
“Oh, thank god,” she sighed. “At least you won’t have to face off with them alone.” She let out a soft laugh as she turned her attention to Ronan. “You probably think we sound like assholes.”
“I don’t,” Ronan said softly. “ filled me in on her father. Honestly, I think you both sound far too nice.”
Mom chuckled. “I think I like you,” she said, wagging her finger in front of the camera. “You might be a keeper.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’ll be with her the whole time.” His eyes slid to meet mine. “I’ll take care of her.”
A moment passed between us. It was fleeting and over far too soon, but I felt it. Did he? He had to have felt it. It settled over us like a warm blanket, a comfort around my heart. It couldn’t just be me, could it?
My mom and Ronan chatted for a few more minutes, then I made an excuse to get off the phone, otherwise the conversation would never end. Ronan watched as I slid my phone into my purse, the quilted pattern multicolored and faded.
“Should we take a photo?” he asked, and the question caught me so off guard all I could do was stare at him.
“A photo?”
“For proof.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Since you said this was our first date, we could take a photo and show them. Proof.”
I glanced around the empty beach. Seagulls squawked overhead, and the waves lapped against the shore. Damp sand stuck to my jeans, and salty air whipped around my face. The day was warm and sunny, and the sun shone brightly on us.
It was a perfect day.
Was this a date?
“That’s a good idea.” I nodded a few times, rolling my lips between my teeth. He lifted his phone and leaned against me. His face was close—too close. My breath caught in my chest as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me even closer.
“Smile,” he teased. My lips wobbled as I stretched them into a bright smile, and he mimicked the movement as he snapped a picture.
I stared at the photo, and all I could think about was how good we looked together. We slotted into each other, his jagged edges fitting perfectly into mine.
“Trinity invited us to karaoke night,” he said, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Gracie and I went to karaoke night once.” I laughed at the memories. “It was so fun, but I got so drunk.” He grinned.
“More drunk than trivia night?”
“Oh, way more drunk.” I rested my hands behind me in the sand as I reclined. “I’d love to go. What’s your go-to karaoke song?”
He snorted. “I don’t sing.”
I gasped. “That’s a crime against karaoke. You have to sing.” He shook his head, a grin on his face.
“I don’t sing,” he repeated. “But I’ll watch you.”
“I can’t do it without Gracie.” I sighed. “We sing a duet.”
“Invite her. She’s your best friend.”
My smile slowly faded. “I know she used to date your brother,” I muttered. “It won’t be awkward to hang out with her?”
His lips pressed tightly together. “What happened between her and Adam is their business. I always liked Gracie. She was a sweet girl.”
“She still is. She’s the best person I’ve ever met.”
A few moments passed before Ronan nudged me with his shoulder again. He sat with his legs bent, his arms resting on his knees. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
He glanced over his shoulder, and I followed his gaze to the lighthouse overlooking the beach. “Why do you like the lighthouse so much?” he murmured. “You’ve loved it since you first moved here. Remember when you asked me if I’d ever seen it?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I didn’t know you’d grown up here at the time.” Sighing, I ran my fingers through my hair, gently detangling it. “I don't understand my obsession with it.” The admission was quiet, but I knew he’d heard me. “When I saw it for the first time, it felt…right. Almost like I was home. I know it sounds ridiculous, but that was how I decided to move here. And then I learned more about the history, and about the widow?—”
“The widow?”
I turned toward him, bracing my hand on his forearm. “You don’t know about the widow?”
“I thought it was just a ghost story kids told each other?”
“No,” I breathed, shaking my head. “She was a real person. Her husband went out to sea and never returned. She spent the rest of her life manning the light in case he came back. She waited for him. She never gave up on him. I don’t know her name, or what she looked like, but I know a little bit about her story. But there had to be more to her, right? She had to have had friends and a family. She must’ve had a life. She couldn’t have spent her entire life just staring at the ocean, right? Waiting?”
I looked back at the lighthouse. “But it is kind of romantic, don’t you think?” I continued. “Knowing she loved him so much that she’d rather wait for him than continue living.”
“Do you think you would’ve waited?” he asked quietly. I nibbled my bottom lip at the question. Slowly, I faced him once more.
“Yes,” I finally said. “If he was the love of my life, I would’ve waited forever for him.”
His eyes flicked between mine, and suddenly all the oxygen in the world seemed to disappear. “Me too,” he whispered. “I’d wait a million lifetimes if I had to. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the woman I love.”
My heart lurched into my throat, and a question I’d asked myself a year ago floated through my mind.
What would it be like to be loved by a man like him?
We stared at each other for just a moment too long, a moment that passed the comfortable level and moved to something else. Something intimate.
“Have you thought of researching her more? Or maybe figuring out a way to restore it?”
I shifted my gaze back to the ocean. “I’ve thought about it, but I wouldn’t know where to even start.”
“My brother is an architect,” he said. “Maybe he can help you. Even if he can’t restore it, he might know someone who can. I can ask him for you.”
“Really?” I asked, and he shrugged.
“Of course.”
Ronan reclined back on his hands as we stared at the waves crashing in the distance. After a few moments, he let out a soft groan, and I turned my attention to him. “Your family is gonna be watching us like hawks, aren’t they?”
A breathy laugh escaped as I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Definitely. I think Vanessa will be paying a lot of attention to you.”
He scrunched his nose. “Isn’t she married?”
“I don’t think that’s ever stopped her before.”
He grunted, a noncommittal sound. I dug my fingers into the sand, needing to ground myself.
“And your dad?”
“What about him?” I asked.
“Will he be as interested as Vanessa?” His blue eyes looked like sea glass in the sunlight. I couldn’t stop staring at them.
“I think so,” I said softly. “But not for the same reasons. I think he’ll judge everything you do and say.” His lips pressed into a frown.
“If he’s an asshole to you, I won’t keep my thoughts to myself,” he said firmly. “I won’t stand there and let any of them treat you like shit.”
“It won’t be that bad,” I mumbled, looking back at the sand.
“If it is, I’m putting a stop to it and taking you out of there immediately.”
Tears gathered on my lashes, and I blinked them away. I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t breathe. No one had ever promised anything like that to me before—they’d never put me first.
“You don’t have to do that,” I rasped. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can.” His voice softened, but the anger still laced his words. “Doesn’t mean you should have to.”
Would anyone even believe this relationship was real? A part of me didn’t think so—I hoped they did, but would they ?
I swiped my fingertips against my damp cheeks, wiping any evidence of tears away. “I’m worried my family won’t buy this,” I admitted, waving my hand between us. “They’ll see right through it. Vanessa will never believe—” A guy like you wants a girl like me.
“They won’t,” he said with so much confidence, I nearly believed him. “We just have to make it convincing.”
I snorted a humorless laugh. “Yeah, and how do we do that?”
He sat up, brushing sand off his hands. “Well, for starters, we need to look like we’re comfortable with each other. Like we’ve been together for more than five minutes.” I grinned at the look he leveled at me.
“I think we can manage that.”
“And then there’s…” His gaze dropped to the sand for a moment before returning to mine. His expression was unreadable, like there was so much he wanted to say but kept it safely locked up. “There’s the physical stuff.”
“The physical stuff?” I echoed. My heart raced as I thought about that kiss. It hadn’t felt like a first kiss—it had felt like we’d done it a million times before. Like we’d been made to kiss each other, to be together.
He nodded, and his lips twitched like he was holding back a smile. “Your dad’s gonna expect us to act like a real couple. That means holding hands, standing close, maybe even kissing.”
“I don’t think it’ll come to that,” I squeaked, but I desperately hoped it did.
“Maybe not.” He shrugged, his tone casual. “But if it does, we should be ready. We don’t want it to look awkward or forced.”
I licked my lips. “You’re right,” I breathed. “But…” Did he mean what I thought he did?
I stared at him, unable to form a coherent thought. He leaned in slightly, his eyes locking onto mine.
“I’m just saying,” he continued, his voice low and steady, “it wouldn’t hurt to practice. Just to make sure it looks…believable.”
The sand shifted as I scooted closer to him, my eyes dropping to his lips. There was more hair on his jaw today, not quite enough to be a beard, but too much to just be stubble. What would it feel like against my face?
Between my legs.
I blinked, trying to force that thought away. But once it took root, it was all I could focus on. Something told me that sleeping with Ronan would be unlike anything I’d ever experienced. He seemed like the kind of man to talk you through it, to kiss and praise you, to make sure you were a sated mess by the end of it.
I swallowed thickly and pressed my thighs together. Ronan moved even closer, his breath ghosting over my face.
“We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he murmured, but my eyes were already fluttering shut.
“I’m fine,” I assured him, desperation seeping into my voice. “I’m comfortable.”
The tips of our noses brushed against each other, and then his lips were on mine. It felt different than it had last time. It was hotter, more demanding. I opened for him, letting his tongue sweep into my mouth.
He reached up, gripping the back of my neck possessively. I melted at the contact, at the way his rough palm felt against my skin. A low growl rumbled through his chest, and I moved my body closer, needing to feel more of him.
Our lips moved in tandem, each of us desperate for the other. Slowly, he shifted his body, rolling on top of mine as I reclined back, the sand a soft cushion under me. I spread my legs, and his hips slotted perfectly between them. I felt him long and hard in his jeans as he ground against me, against my aching core. A whimper escaped, and he swallowed it whole. Resting my hand on his chest, I felt his heart thundering beneath.
“You feel so good,” I moaned, my fingers tangling in his shirt.
“Fuck,” he breathed, kissing me again. “I wish we were at home right now. Or at least in my fucking truck.”
“Would you fuck me if we were?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. He stiffened and pulled away. His eyes searched mine, guarded in a way I hadn’t seen in days.
“Do you want that, baby?” he murmured. He stroked the hair from my face with a gentle touch, and I melted a little bit more.
“I—”
A loud ring sliced through the air, and I jolted at the sudden sound. He soothed me, pressing soft kisses over my face and nose before grabbing his phone from his pocket. Leaning back on his heels, he answered as if he wasn’t currently sitting between my very spread thighs.
“What’s up?” He rolled his eyes. “I’m with —you did what? Are you kidding?” A long, dramatic groan left him. “I can’t—she doesn’t want to meet Mom.”
“Me?” I sat up on my elbows. “You want me to meet your mom?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Trinity?—”
“I’ll meet your mom,” I blurted. “You met mine today.”
He stared at me for a heartbeat, then sighed again, pinching between his eyes. “Fine. Tell her we’ll be there.” Without another word, he hung up and stared at me. “Do you know what you just agreed to?”
“To meet your mom?”
“She’s…a lot,” he warned hesitantly, like he was worried about my reaction. “She’s like Trinity, but has been able to really master her chaos.” My head fell back on my shoulders as I laughed.
“When are we going?”
“In a couple days. She found out you’re my—” He gave me a strange look. “Trinity told her about us, and she wants to meet you.”
“I can’t wait.” I grinned. Thankfully, the conversation we almost had disappeared as he helped me to my feet. He brushed the sand off my back and out of my hair, then wrapped his hand around mine.
An uneasy feeling washed through me, like I was being watched, and I looked around. But I didn’t see anyone. It was probably just pent up anxiety from last night.
As we walked to the truck, I realized that line was getting dangerously blurry between us, and I didn’t know what to do or think. If I would’ve had the chance to finish my sentence earlier, what would I have said?
Yes, probably. Because I did want to fuck Ronan. And that terrified me. I didn’t want to fall back into the person I used to be, letting men use and discard me for their own pleasure. I wanted to know that if I slept with him, that it meant something. That he would still be there in the morning.
The real truth of it was that if I slept with him, I wanted him to be more than a friend, more than my fake boyfriend. I wanted it to be real—I wanted us to be real. And that thought might’ve been the scariest of all.