Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
THEO
“What do you want to do today?” I ask Rupert as he sits next to me on the couch. My mind’s still thinking about last night and how Renley absolutely demolished me, ruining any other woman to ever come near me. Not that I’d want that. No fucking way.
I want her and her alone.
“I want to call your father.”
That snaps me right out of my reverie.
“What?” I ask, turning toward him. “Why the fuck would you want to call my father?”
“To tell him that you’ve fallen in love and that Neil’s daughter can stop picking out wedding dresses.”
“I have not fallen in love,” I say with a scoff. “It’s more like…lust.”
I know I have strong feelings for Renley, and it could possibly be love, but that’s not something I think I can admit right now, not when I haven’t thought it through.
Rupert shakes his head. “Mate, you might be lusting after her, but underneath the lust, you genuinely care about her. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be ditching me as much as you have and spending all your time with her.
Or caring about her shop and lending a hand.
Like…fuck, when have you ever picked up a tool? ”
“I picked you up the other day.”
His face falls flat as I chuckle to myself, because that was a good one.
“I’m being serious. You love her, and you might not see it right now, but I see it, which means you need to call Lord Dickhead and tell him that he can find someone else to do the lording.”
I haven’t replied to his texts because what the hell would I say? I’m not interested in your job and might just stay in the U.S.? Thanks, but no thanks? But until I have a solid answer for him, what could I possibly say that would pacify the snarly wanker?
“I don’t think ‘lording’ is a word in that sense.”
I have no frame of reference for how to deny my family’s role for me, but I am determined to do so.
“You know what I mean. You owe him a call.”
“I don’t owe him anything. And you know if I call him and tell him I’m not going to be a lord, he’s going to try to fuck with me somehow.” I shake my head. “Uninterested.”
“So what are you going to do? Never return home? Because you know we’re only allowed in the States for so long. We can’t just stay here. Which means you have to decide on what the hell you’re going to do.”
“I still have until the end of summer.”
“You do, but the longer you wait, the more your father is going to prep Neil’s daughter. Just cut the cord now.”
“There’s no reason to do it now.”
“There’s no reason to wait.”
“Why the hell are you pushing this?” I ask, growing irritated.
“Because the longer you wait, the longer your father has a chance to fuck with you, and is that what you want?”
“He’s not going to fuck with me. He has menial things to do that he believes are far more important than developing an honest and thoughtful relationship with his son.”
“Have you told Renley about your father’s pressure to marry by the end of summer?”
“No,” I answer, unable to look Rupert in the eye.
“Is that why you haven’t told your father? Because you haven’t told her? Are you afraid that when you tell her, she’s going to think the feelings you actually have for her are some sort of farce?”
“How the fuck are you doing this? Are you a mind reader?”
He shrugs. “I just know you well enough at this point.” He fully turns toward me on the couch. “Don’t be dumb. Tell her how you feel and tell her the whole truth about everything.”
“She knows I came here to get married; she knows that truth.”
“But does she know about your father’s requirement?”
“No.”
“It’s called communication. Try it.”
“Fuck off, I have been communicating with her,” I say. “Probably the healthiest communication I’ve ever had.”
“Besides the one big elephant in the room.”
“It’s not an elephant in the room, and by making it seem like an elephant, you’re making it worse.”
“I’m just stating the facts.”
“No.” I stand from the couch. “You’re trying to get under my skin. If this is about the table—”
“It’s not about the goddamn table,” he says, growing irritated as well.
“Then what is this about? You’re trying to start trouble with me and Renley, and I want to know why.”
“I’m trying to help you!” he shouts. “That’s what I’ve been doing ever since I got here. Help. I put my life on hold to be here.”
“What fucking life?” I ask. “All you did before this was party and live off your trust fund. You don’t have a job, Rupert, you don’t have responsibilities other than to fuck around with me. And you’re doing that here in America.”
“Wow.” He shakes his head. “You’re so fucking full of yourself, you know that? Not everything is about you, Theo.”
Feeling like I’ve been blindsided, I ask, “Where the hell is this coming from?”
“The fact that you even have to ask that question tells me exactly where your priorities have been.”
“Yeah, they’ve been with Renley, trying to get to know her, because that’s why we’re fucking out here. I don’t see why I’m getting chastised for that.”
“Because you have completely neglected me!” he shouts. “I thought we’d have a fun summer, kind of a last hurrah, and instead you’ve been completely consumed by a girl. You’ve forgotten that I even existed and left me out to dry, so I had to find my own entertainment.”
“Last hurrah? What are you even talking about?”
He shakes his head. “Never mind.”
He starts to walk away, but I grab his arm. “Rupert, why would this be a last hurrah?”
His eyes meet mine, looking hollower than before. He wets his lips and then after a few seconds, he answers, “Because you’re getting married, right? And marriage changes everything.”
And with that, he walks away.
“Hey, how was your day with Rupert?” Renley asks as she finishes hanging a sign above the bar.
Before answering, I take in the shop and what she’s been able to accomplish today after the regular jobs she did around town.
She changed out the rest of the light fixtures, moved some jars behind the bar, and has now hung up the sign that Tilly painted for her.
I’m in awe of my girl. Such a fucking workhorse.
I set down the basket of food I’ve prepared for us and round the bar, snag her by the waist, and pull her into my chest. My hand slides to the back of her head and my lips find hers, melting into a kiss that I’ve been thinking about all goddamn day.
When she releases my lips and her eyes meet mine, she whispers, “What was that for?”
“I missed you,” I say honestly. “Didn’t like that you made me wait all day to do that.”
She chuckles. “It wasn’t all day. I woke up with you this morning.”
“Yeah, and I’d like a repeat of that.”
She shakes her head. “There is no way I’m coming over to your place again after we traumatized Rupert.”
“We didn’t traumatize him. He’s just being dramatic.” I grip her hips and lift her up on the bar so she’s more even with me in height. Her hands go to my hair and she pushes it behind my ear, lightly playing with the strands.
“So did he forgive you after your day of fun? Or is he still playing hard to get?”
My eyes flit to the side as I think about what happened today. After he walked out, he showered and then left the house. I didn’t see him the rest of the day. I waited in the living room for him to come back, but after an hour, I gave up.
Haven’t talked to him since.
“Why aren’t you answering and why do you have that look on your face?” she asks, concerned.
“We, uh, we fought today.”
“About the table?” she asks. “I think I can fix it. It was the leg we broke. I know it might be hard for him to get over the fact that our bodies were naked on it, but I have some good cleaning products.”
“No, it wasn’t that.”
Her brow knits together while her hand glides over my cheek. “What was it?”
How do I explain this?
I mull it over for a moment, trying every angle in my head that doesn’t involve the truth, but then I stop myself…
because why am I avoiding the truth? We have said that we are going to communicate properly, so this is my moment.
I can try to pretend that everything is fine and that my father isn’t the biggest tool in the fucking world and have that blow up in my face later on, or I can sit her down, look her in the eyes, and tell her the truth with the possibility that she won’t believe what we have together is real.
When my eyes meet hers again, I know exactly what I have to do.
Taking her hand, I say, “I need to talk to you.”
Her expression immediately morphs to worry as I lift her off the counter and bring her to the floor to sit, tugging her down next to me.
“What’s going on?”
“I need to tell you something that I don’t want to tell you because I’m afraid it’s going to hurt what we have, but if I don’t tell you, it will most definitely ruin the way you feel about me.”
“That’s not ominous at all,” she says, leaning away from me.
“Please don’t push me away before I can even start,” I say, feeling her body language retreat in the other direction.
“I’m not.”
“You are,” I say softly. “I can see it in your eyes, and I can feel it in your body. Just give me a chance to explain everything before you pull away.” I take her hand in mine. “Please, Renley.”
Trepidation settles in her expression, but she remains seated, ready to listen. “Okay.”
This is probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, given how fragile our relationship is, but then again, this is what being in a mature relationship is all about, right? Effective communication, or at least attempting to have effective communication.
Knowing this might hurt, I look her in the eyes and start from the beginning.
“Before Rupert and I came here, we got drunk one night and were fucking around, playing truth or dare. The last dare was him setting me up on the fiancé website and having me submit my profile. Not thinking much of it, I hit submit and was done with it, just laughing it off. It wasn’t until the next morning that my father saw it spread throughout the media that I was looking for a fiancée. ”