56. Nora
CHAPTER 56
NORA
He doesn’t come to find me.
I walk through the rooms of Fairhaven to find him. Past dancing couples in the grand room, the champagne tower in the conservatory, and the busy terrace. He’s nowhere to be seen.
Because he doesn’t want to be seen.
Maybe… I slip out of my heels to walk barefoot on dewy spring grass down through the gardens to the boathouse.
That’s where I find him. Standing past the boathouse, he’s silhouetted against the darkness, only a faint outline visible against the green light at the end of the dock. It’s windier out here, the sound of waves softly beating against rock and pillar.
“West?” I ask. He turns, and the light reflects on the glass in his left hand. I can’t make out his expression. Can’t see his face properly. “What are you doing out here?”
“Thinking.” He reaches for me, and I let him pull me in. He’s warm despite the late-night winds. Somehow he always is.
“My brother left. I saw him get into a car.” I search the edge of West’s jaw. He won’t meet my eyes. “I thought he was staying here.”
“Change of plans.”
“He’s not going after Ben Wilde, is he?”
“He better not be. Not without me.” He’s tense beneath my hands, and he’s holding me like I’m a lifeline. A buoy.
“Are you okay?”
It takes him a long moment to answer, his lips by my hair. “Yes,” he finally says. “I might be the only one who’s okay in all of this.”
“What happened?”
“Rafe knows about us.”
My hands find the lapels of his tuxedo jacket. Grip them tight. “How? I thought we were careful…”
“He was in the library, in the corner. He saw us. Your mom calling… when I kissed you.”
I blink up at West. Rafe knows. Rafe knows. “What does he know? Did you tell him… all of it?”
“That I deflowered his little sister on my back lawn?” West lifts his drink to his lips, and he knocks back over half. “No. I spared him the details.”
“Give me some of that.” I take the cold glass from his hands and lift it to my lips.
He watches me take a long sip. It burns, and I fight to hide the grimace. It’s only when I blink a few times and focus on him again that I see the darkened bruise starting to spread under his eye.
“ What ?”
“It’s nothing. It’s—careful, trouble,” he warns, but I’m already brushing my fingers over the bruise on his cheek. “Rafe hit you?”
“I let him,” West says. “It was his right.”
“Bullshit. That’s bullshit.” I let my hand drop. “Why are you not putting ice on it?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my house is filled with guests. I would rather not let anyone see me like this and start rumors.”
I take his glass from him, and he doesn’t flinch when I slowly lift it up and press it to the skin beneath his eye. It’s not ice, but it’s cold, and it’s something. “I don’t like having to patch you up.”
“You don’t have to. But for the record, I like it.” His hands slide down, fit the span of my waist.
I give him a withering look. “Tell me you didn’t goad him into it.”
“Into hitting me? Your brother has a temper of his own.”
“Yes, I know that. But I also know that you seem to love feeling guilty about this, when getting involved with you was my decision.”
“Getting involved,” he repeats. Out here in the darkness, he’s achingly familiar and like a stranger, all at once. “Is that what we are, trouble? Involved ?”
I focus on the way the light reflects off the crystal tumbler. “I would say so. Wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” he says, and it’s the best word I’ve ever heard. He’s shown me over and over again that he wants me. He’s never made me doubt it, not once, and that’s why I feel brave enough to find the next words.
“Your mother asked me if we were serious again today.” I cup my free hand to the side of his neck and feel the warm skin, the sharp stubble. “And I asked Amber about the marriage clause when I couldn’t find you. She said your mother has a short list of women you can marry if we don’t work out.”
West has gone very still beneath my hands. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
“They’re women in your circle. Probably some that you already know, through family connections or… or… college.” I tap my finger against his neck, and if it wasn’t for the night, he’d be able to see my heated skin. “You’ll marry one of them, or a woman you find on your own, to keep Fairhaven.”
His jaw works. I can feel it beneath the glass I’m pressing to his cheek. “You sound so sure,” he says. “Is that what you want me to do?”
“You can’t lose Fairhaven.” This place, it’s magic. And it needs to be protected.
“And that doesn’t make you jealous?” He’s watching me carefully. I’m safe on this dock, with water below our feet, but it would still be so easy to drown in him.
“Marry me,” I say.
His breathing stops.
I haven’t seen him shocked often. But he’s shocked now, his eyes searching mine. He swallows hard and parts his lips. But no sound comes out.
“Marry me,” I repeat, and lower the tumbler from his swelling bruise. “Why not? It would solve everything.”
He takes a deep breath, like it takes effort to pull himself back together. “Your brother would?—”
“He knows now. The pact, whatever thing you guys promised… it’s done. You did deflower me in your backyard.” I take a step forward, like this will be easier if my words have to travel through less space. “It’s the obvious solution, West. We’re already pretending to date in front of your family, friends, the entire world. I love… living here. Nothing would have to change. Marry me .”
He’s breathing fast and shallow, the muscles in his shoulders tense beneath my hands. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do. It would help you, wouldn’t it?” I try to smile, but it comes out a bit crooked. He’s reacting strongly, and I know him well enough to know that he’s not used to it. He’s not good at it. He’s used to being in control, and right now he isn’t.
Maybe he’s never considered it before. Marrying me. Maybe he just needs some time.
“We could keep going with the… well. We can have more sex. You told me there’s still so much to try. I want to try that. With you.”
He rests his forehead against mine. The wind catches on my hair, and his hand slides up, fingers threading through it. “Your brother would never speak to me again.”
“Leave him to me.”
“You’d marry me?” His voice is hot and half broken. “You’d marry me.”
“Yes. You’d get to keep the estate.” I smile against his lips. See how much I want this? “But I want the cat. He’s mine.”
“You can have him. He doesn’t like me anyway.” West slides his hands down. “Hold on to me.”
He lifts me up. The dock creaks under his quick steps into the salty darkness of the boathouse.
“I can walk,” I protest. But I’m smiling widely, too, because he’s cracking open, all of his want pouring out of him. I can feel it in his hands, his hot mouth against my temple.
He doesn’t think it’s a bad idea. He doesn’t think it’s a bad idea at all.
“You’ve been in heels all night,” West says, and sets me down on a large coil of rope. “And I need you.”