Chapter 19 #3
Moving quietly, I pick up my pyjama shorts and leave the room, shutting the door softly. I need to think, and I do that best outside, so I head to my room and dress quickly before making my way outside.
The sun is out, and the sky is the clear, blue colour of a forget-me-not. The garden looks like it’s been through the washing machine. Everything is shiny and bright, and the scents are intense as I walk down the path and open the gate, stepping onto the beach.
I walk for a while, my thoughts busy as I pace at the sea’s edge. The water is ice cold on my bare feet, waking me up like a dip in a plunge pool. Seagulls dip and soar above me, calling to each other and riding the breeze.
I don’t know what to think about yesterday. Scratch that. I do know what to think.
I’m more deeply in love with Mac than ever.
His revelations about his family made me want to weep, but they also made my heart swell with pride and awe for Mac.
He overcame so much. And it’s not just the millions he’s made with his property empire that proves his success.
Under his hard exterior is a man who opens an addiction clinic to help people like his mum.
A man who’d allow someone like Tyler to live with him simply to ensure his care.
A man who sends a car to pick up his ex-fuckboy after learning he’s working in a petrol station in a shit neighbourhood.
My lips quirk. He’d hate that I thought of myself in that way, but that’s yet another reason why he’s irresistible. He’s more horrified than I am by the start to our relationship, but he’s never really understood my feelings.
I couldn’t really think of him as Mr Reilly—the reclusive and taciturn enigma.
That never seemed right to me. Over time, I fell for Mac Reilly—the fascinating and funny man.
The person who patches my cuts up, who really listens to me, who teaches me backgammon, shares his secrets, mocks me, and runs through the rain in Paris with me.
How could I not be? He’s everything I never thought to dream up.
Moving up the beach, I find a dry stretch of sand and settle down on it, drawing up my knees and contemplating the sea sightlessly.
What about Brandon ? The question inevitably seeps into my thoughts like waves lapping the shore.
“Fuck him. He’s not here. I am,” I say defiantly.
“Are you talking to yourself?”
Startled, I turn to see Mac standing behind me. He’s barefoot and dressed in just his pyjama shorts, his hair wild and his face quizzical. I brighten when I realise he’s holding two travel mugs with a blanket tucked under his arm.
I grin up at him. “I get more sense out of me than you.”
His face lightens at my snark. “Only someone drinking heavily could possibly agree with that statement.” He settles down behind me, sitting in the sand and drawing me back between his legs. I rest my hands on them, feeling the coarse hair as he sets my cup in front of me. “Tea.”
“Tea. You’re a lifesaver.”
“If only Tetley knew that they could put their prices up.”
He pulls the blanket around us, and I settle back into his arms, feeling the warmth and comfort I’ve always had there.
“You were thinking hard,” he finally says, taking a sip of his coffee. “Who were you saying fuck it to? I hope it wasn’t me, or you’ll be walking home.”
I hesitate and then put my cup down and turn in his arms, coming up on my knees and placing my hands on his shoulders. His skin is like rough silk beneath my fingers. “Brandon,” I say, holding my breath. “I was telling him that he can’t have you.”
He blinks, a look of complete stupefaction on his face. “Who?”
I tip my head, unsure about his surprise. “Brandon,” I say hesitantly. “The man you kept before me.”
He shifts his weight, and his gaze flicks from the surf to me. “Wes…”
“No, listen. I have to say this before I lose my nerve. I’m unsure what’s happening between us, but I like it. I really like it.” His eyes flare like he’s about to say something, but I carry on talking. “Did you have deep feelings for him? He said you came to the club for him.”
He blinks. “He said what ?”
“Yes. He said you’d been together for a year.”
“ Together ? Wes?—”
“I was hurt because I thought I was your first arrangement, and then I found out I wasn’t, and you’d taken him to Paris too. It was all too much, and those feelings got jumbled up with the assault in my head and so I left. Just please give me another chance.”
His whole face softens, and his eyes blaze. “Wes,” he says. “Do you really want to make something with me?”
“What about Brandon?”
“What about him?”
“I saw how you looked at him in the club that night. There was obviously a deep connection between the two of you.”
His face twists as if in pain. “I hate thinking about that night,” he says passionately. “I hate that you were hurt because of me.”
“Mac, I?—”
“Please let me say this. You’ve got completely the wrong end of the stick.”
“How?”
He takes a breath, and his face is grave.
“I can’t tell you much because the end of my arrangement with Brandon is very personal, and it’s his secret.
” I note the use of the word arrangement, and my heart lightens.
“I can tell you that I didn’t take him to Paris.
He turned up uninvited and it was a complete surprise.
” And not a welcome one judging by his expression.
“We were never together. I slept with him and then I left. I never lay in bed and had conversations with him about nothing and everything. He didn’t make me laugh and want to stay.
I never ever felt with him what I do with you.
” I gape at him, and he shifts awkwardly.
“He’s a very nice man but he wasn’t for me, and if you saw feelings there that night, it was only guilt on my part for not… ”
“He fell for you,” I realise as he struggles for words. “And you didn’t reciprocate?”
“No, and that’s my fault.”
“You can’t help not loving someone back. It’s a sort of voluntary thing.”
“Well, regardless, I shouldn’t have entered the arrangement with him.”
“Why did you?” I ask. His patent astonishment at my thinking he had feelings for Brandon has made all my worries disappear like smoke on the breeze.
He shrugs. “I saw him at the club. I was attracted to him.” He plays with my fingers, looking down at them with a seeming fascination.
“I thought I could maybe do this. I could have sex with the same man for a while rather than a never-ending succession of strangers. For a while, it worked. I was fond of him. I still am fond of him.” He takes a breath.
“And then he—” He falters. “I tried to end it and?—”
I suddenly remember the scars on Brandon’s wrist when he helped me up in the bathroom, and I know what happened with a deep and sickening certainty.
“It’s okay,” I say quickly.
“I know that he spoke to you that night and said things he shouldn’t have, but please don’t think too badly of him. He’s in therapy now. I’m hoping it helps him.”
“I hope that too. There’s no need to say any more.”
He looks up at me in relief. “I think I do need to say this.” He strokes my hair back. “No one has ever had the effect on me that you do, and no one ever will. If you are worried about competition, you have no need. There will never be anyone who means as much to me as you.”
Hope and warmth fill me so fast that it makes me feel dizzy. It’s like my heart is a hot-air balloon, and he just gave me the energy to travel to the moon.
I lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, nuzzling against him. “You’re a different man here,” I say, struck by his appearance. “You look content.”
His mouth quirks. “You know very well that isn’t Norfolk. Turn around and stop fishing.” He keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the sea. His mouth might twitch but I can’t be sure.
Eventually, I huff and spin around to look at the sea, too. It’s an interesting view, but today I’d rather be looking at something—or someone—else.
He takes a deep breath, and his body seems to vibrate. Incredibly, I think he might be nervous. I give his hand a squeeze.
“Could you ever see yourself coming here at weekends?” he asks. “It’s not as isolated as it first seems. There’s a large town ten miles away, and Norfolk itself is beautiful.”
He’s rambling, and I bite my lip to hold in my smile. After a moment, I slowly say, “Well, I’ve never been against holidays.”
There’s a brief silence as he considers this. Then he says, “I have something to ask you.”
“Oh yes? Should I turn around, or do you want to continue talking to the back of my neck?”
“I do like that place on you. It’s almost a sacred space, given that there’s no mouth there to make the usual noise.” I turn around as he grumbles, but when we’re facing each other, he eyes me, his face soft and open in a way I’m still not used to. “I would like us to see each other,” he says.
I bite my lip, pushing down the instinctive burst of happiness. “Not paying?”
He shakes his head immediately. “ No . Never again. I mean, really seeing each other.”
“Why?” I want to throw caution to the wind, but I can’t this time. This is too important.
He huffs. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
I nod solemnly. “Would you like me to say it first, love?”
His eyes flare at the endearment, but he shakes his head. “No. I can say this to you because I’m safe with you.”
“Always.”
His mouth twitches. “Am I allowed to talk now?”
“Please proceed.” I throw in a lordly gesture to make him smile but soften as he takes my hand and drops a kiss on it.
“Nothing is the same without you,” he says quietly. “You’re so different from anyone I’ve ever known.” His eyes look almost scared. “I think I love you.”
I’ve heard more flowery declarations from men before him, but none ever got my heart right in the centre like his unsure words. “Why?” I whisper.
“Because you’re like human sunshine. You’re so positive and kind and being near you warms me right through.
And yet you don’t want anything from me except myself.
I don’t think you know how much of a rarity that is in my life.
And so, I found myself walking the streets in Paris making up stories about complete strangers and taking fifty thousand photos of you by a bloody windmill.
” I chuckle and a smile touches his mouth.
“You make me laugh,” he continues softly.
“You challenge my brain, and you force me to be a part of this world when I’ve spent years isolating myself with work and money.
You make me care. Just about you,” he adds quickly, making me want to laugh and cry.
“The rest of the world still largely consists of idiots.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“You’re clever and quick-witted but never cruel. You’re fiercely loyal, and you always look on the positive side of every aspect of life, which quite frankly is going to get you hurt one day.”
“Duly noted,” I say solemnly.
“I want to look after you when that happens.” He stares into my eyes.
“There’s more. You’re unfailingly generous, and you might not have money, but you give something more precious—your time and your big heart.
” He pauses. “And you look at me as if I’m worth something more than my money,” he finishes softly.
“That’s because you are ,” I say thickly.
“I’m not sure about that, but I can tell you that you mean everything to me.” He hesitates. “What do you think? Is that love? I’ve never been in love before, so I don’t know, and I need to get this right for you. I want to make you happy and never sad.”
I swallow hard. “That’s a tough task, sweetheart, and one that’s probably not in your power to achieve, but I think that’s as close to love as I’ve ever come. But we’re so different. We come from different worlds, and you have so much more than I can ever bring to a relationship.”
“That’s just material shit. We are equals, Wes. I may have more money than you, but you make me happy, and that is something no one else will ever be able to do. I bring money and possessions to the table, but you bring so much more.”
“Like what?”
“Light and happiness and this funny warmth I feel whenever I’m near you. When I’m away from you, I’m lonely, but when I’m with you, you chase all the old shadows away. You’re my light, and you make the darkness in me disappear.”
I stare at him, my throat full of tears and my eyes hot.
“What about you?” he says diffidently.
“Oh, I love you,” I say with absolute certainty.
His eyes flare, and he drags me to him, kissing me hard so that my head swims and I cling to him. Everything he feels but can’t put a name to is in that embrace—all the love, caring, loyalty, and steadfastness.
Finally, he pulls away but keeps me in his arms. “I want to date, but you need to teach me how,” he says earnestly, and I’m almost surprised he hasn’t got a pad and pen to take notes.
“I can do that, but I don’t know much more than you. How about we learn together?”
“I like that idea.” He pushes my hair back, his fingers gentle, his expression almost reverent. “So, it’s hello and not goodbye?”
My life seems poised between past me and future me on this small beach in the morning light, with the taste of salt on my lips and the wind in my hair. I look at his pale, ascetic face, the breeze lifting the ink-dark strands of his hair, and his blue eyes glowing, and I make my decision.
“It’s hello,” I say, moving into his arms again and feeling them band tight around me—so tight that I lose a little of my breath and the rest of my heart. “It will always be hello.”