Chapter 24
24
CARLEE
I ’m mildly aware there are paps across the street as we eat breakfast.
“Showing off that ring,” Weston comments, and I realize I’m sipping my coffee with my left hand fully visible.
“Not on purpose,” I reply, noticing how it sparkles in the winter sunlight. “But maybe I should give everyone something to talk about when it comes to us.”
“Am I watching a villain be born?” His eyes soften at the edges, almost as if he’s lost in a daydream.
I wish I could see what he sees. Maybe, one day, I will. I hope.
“If you keep looking at me like that, they’ll say you’re obsessed with me ,” I joke, smiling over the rim of my cup.
“I have a secret,” he whispers, leaning in closer. “I am .”
“Oh, stop.” I shake my head.
“Still not convinced? Okay,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, grinning as our pancakes slide across the table.
I ordered pumpkin while he opted for chocolate chip, topped with whipped cream, just as he had mentioned.
“Want a bite? They smell amazing,” I offer, cutting a chunk of my pancake for him. He does the same for me, and we feed each other. “That’s delicious. Very chocolaty.”
As we eat, our eyes flick toward one another, but neither of us feels the need to fill the silence with words. It’s a comfortable quiet where conversation flows naturally when needed. His presence is enough, an entire experience in itself.
My mind drifts as I gaze out the large windows of the diner. It may be in the upper forties, but the streets are bustling with people soaking up the sun. A steady stream of hungry couples enters the building, and the bell above the door jingles each time.
Low chatter fills the air, mingling with the aroma of bacon and freshly brewed coffee. Our gazes meet once more, and just as I’m about to speak, my phone rings.
“Shit,” I mutter, glancing down at the display.
Weston’s brow arches. “Who’s that?”
“No one,” I assure him, but he reaches forward and answers.
“Hi, Carlee Jolly’s future husband,” Weston says.
I can hear a deep voice on the other line.
“Who the fuck is this?” Weston snaps back, continuing to eat, then laughs. “Oh. Hilarious. Yes. One second.”
My anxiety spikes as he hands me the phone.
“Oh, so you’re just going to get engaged and not tell anyone in your fucking family? What the fuck, Carlee Jean Jolly?” my older brother Matteo says.
My teeth grind together at the use of my full name as he scolds me like a child. “The last time I checked, I was a grown-ass woman with grown-ass problems who can make grown-ass decisions. For the last time, stay out of my life. It’s not your business.”
“Yes, it is,” my brother yells.
“I’m not arguing anymore.” I end the call with a frustrated sigh. “Older brothers are a pain in my ass. I feel sorry for Billie.”
Weston smirks. “He cares about you.”
“He needs to chill,” I state as a text comes in .
I unlock my phone and read it, quickly realizing it’s a group message featuring my mom, both brothers, and sister.
Matteo
Are you fucking kidding me? That conversation wasn’t over!
There’s a picture attached of Weston and me leaving Asher’s place. The ring on my finger is circled, and he drew arrows pointing to the headline, Weston Calloway Engaged Again!
“Oh God.” I seethe, my eyes widening.
It was rude of him to send this to everyone.
Weston leans forward, and I turn the screen around for him to see.
Dean
Who the duck is this guy?
Dean
Duck.
Dean
DUCK!
Abbi
Is this an AI image? I can’t tell. I don’t think it’s real.
Mom
Can you please watch your language, or I’m leaving this chat?!
Dean
FUCK!
I lock my phone and continue eating, trying to push the anxiety away. “He’s being a drama queen.”
“What will you do?” he asks.
“Ignore them until I can’t.” My heart races.
I thought I would have a few days to get my plan together and properly announce it to the family. I was wrong about that. My phone continues to buzz, and Weston turns it off.
“Thanks. I guess we should’ve planned this better,” I say with a laugh.
“Is this a good time to tell you I’d like to invite you on a family holiday with my parents?” His eyes meet mine.
Butterflies flit in my stomach. “Can we not?”
“It will be fun. Plus you do need to meet my parents. They’re a lot, but they mean well.” He smirks. “I’m looking forward to my mother’s reaction since I vehemently swore I’d never get married again.”
“But you’re not,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee.
“Okay,” he replies, moving his empty plate aside.
“Not that word again.”
His gaze slips down to my mouth and lingers a little too long.
I finish chewing my last bite and gulp it down. “You’re openly eye-fucking me now?”
“What will you do about it?”
He leans forward, reaching toward my face. His thumb brushes against the edge of my mouth, and when he pulls away, there’s whipped cream on his finger. I blush as he pops it into his mouth.
“Mmm. You always taste so good.”
His words set my entire body on fire.
Millie walks over with a bag of to-go boxes and takes our empty plates. “Tell Easton and his wifey I said hello.”
“I will,” Weston says cheerfully, handing over his card like he wasn’t just lost in a fantasy with me.
When she returns, she squeezes my shoulder. “So good to see you again, baby. How was the pumpkin?”
“Great. The powdered sugar and whipped cream were top notch,” I say as we stand and move toward the door.
She shoots me a wink.
“I’ll see you again,” I tell her with a wave.
“I know,” she says. “I like her, Weston. ”
“Me too,” he says.
We load into the car and return to The Park. It’s still early, and I’ve experienced a full day of emotions. I grow quiet, wondering how Weston and I ended up here together.
“I think you’re right about me needing to read your journal, even though I don’t particularly want to,” Weston finally says, placing his hand on my thigh and gently squeezing it, drawing my attention back to him. “I was thinking you could read it to me one day. Not right now, but when you’re ready.”
“Absolutely not.” I shake my head, laughing at him like he’s lost his mind. “I can’t do that.”
He smirks, closing the distance between us, eliminating any space that once separated our bodies. “What if I told you I’d make it worth your while?”
I stare at his mouth, wanting to taste the coffee on his tongue. “How?”
“As long as you read, I’ll keep pleasing you,” he whispers, his head resting on my shoulder as he peppers kisses along my neck. “I just want to desperately hear your inflections, your breathless pauses, and the cadence in your voice as you string your beautiful words together.”
It’s just the two of us in the back of this car, and right now, I’ll do anything he wants, especially when he gives me all of his attention. His hand slides down my body, settling between my legs. I’m relieved the partition that separates the driver from the passengers is up. Right now, we are entirely alone, speeding down the road, and I desperately want him.
“Deal?” he whispers, applying pressure to my clit.
My entire body springs to life.
“You promise to make it worth my while?” I ask, moaning out as he rubs gentle circles against me.
“Fuck yes,” he breathlessly says, working me up so fucking quickly that my body quivers in anticipation.
He knows exactly what to say and how to touch me until I’m putty in his hands. A pant escapes me as every fiber of my being begs for him, for more. I’m so fucking greedy for him.
“Didn’t hear your answer, gorgeous,” he murmurs.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly. “As long as your hands and mouth are on me.”
“Happy that’s settled then.”
He pulls away, leaving me breathless and burning with desire. Let’s not mention that my panties are drenched.
My breasts rise and fall as disappointment crashes over me. “Wait. You’re not finishing what you started?”
“Nope.” The cocky bastard checks his watch and smirks.
“I’m going to get you back,” I breathe out, my nipples hardening, my heart racing. “Oh, just you wait.”
His laughter spills out, a sound that only ignites my frustration further.
“Love seeing you so undeniably desperate for me.” A raging fire simmers in his blue eyes, matching the swell in his jeans.
Before I can protest, his phone rings, and I see his sister’s photo flash across the screen.
“Wow. It seems like the news about us is getting around,” he says, placing a finger over his mouth before answering.
First my family and now his.
“Calloway,” he says.
She immediately starts in on him.
While he chats with her, I readjust myself, trying to calm down. My body wants every inch of him.
Weston places her on speakerphone and lifts his brows at me as I unbutton my shirt, revealing my bare breasts. I position myself, giving him a better view of me as I slide my fingers inside my jeans. I bite my bottom lip, feeling how slick with need I am.
His eyes are zeroed in on me as I continue to touch myself.
“ We’re just friends ,” his sister mutters mockingly.
He mutes his phone, glaring at me. “You’d better not come.”
I sigh out. “Or what? ”
He unmutes. “Don’t you have enough to worry about?”
“Not really,” she tells him.
I haven’t comprehended anything she’s said. I work myself closer and closer, and right before I completely lose myself, I remove my fingers from my panties, nearly gasping for air as I squeeze my thighs tightly together.
Weston mutes his phone, taking my fingers and placing them in his mouth. “Don’t break my only rule. You’re mine, Carlee. Every orgasm that pretty little pussy has is mine. For me. By me. Do you understand?”
I meet his eyes, mesmerized by his undeniable need for me. “They’re yours,” I confess.
“Weston?” Billie asks. “Are you still there?”
He stares at me for another few seconds. I glance down at his bulging cock as he unmutes.
“Sorry. Yes. I need to go soon.”
“I was just saying, you gave Asher Banks major friendship credit for proposing at his damn party. Everyone believes you’re the best of friends now,” she says.
“We are friends. Asher is a good guy when he wants to be.” He laughs. “I thought the two of you would grow out of this nonsense. The animosity is ridiculous. You might need him one day, sis.”
“ No. I. Will. Not. He’s rude, and he thinks he’s smarter than everyone in the room. He loves the sound of his own voice and believes his stupid jokes are hilarious. Annoying as hell,” she replies.
I button my shirt, but he smoothly continues the conversation. “Are you more concerned about where I got engaged than about the fact that I’m engaged? Am I reading this conversation properly?”
She sucks in a deep breath. “I was just trying to eat my bagel in peace when I was blindsided by questions regarding your engagement. I was speechless. I wasn’t even given a text or a heads- up. Absolutely nothing from you or Easton. I was approached in public, and they videoed my reaction.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve considered you. It wasn’t planned, I promise,” he says.
“So, you expect me to believe you just carried our grandmother’s engagement ring in your pocket as backup?” Billie asks.
I focus back on him because I thought the same thing.
“That’s right,” he responds. “I didn’t know when the opportunity would present itself, but I was always ready.”
“Always? What does that mean? You’d been planning this for months, just waiting for a good time to ask the question?” She sighs.
“Harper told me to be ready and to trust my gut,” he admits.
My mouth falls open because he mentioned Harper gave love prophecies that came true.
“Great! You got a love prophecy from Harper. It’s over. If you pull an Easton and elope, I’ll never forgive you,” she warns.
“Are you finished?” he finally asks.
I mindlessly scroll through the text messages my family sent. I’m furious because Matteo decided to invite our grandmother into the discussion. What’s next? The rest of the Jolly cousins? I can feel my anger rising, hating that I’m thirty years old and they’re still meddling.
Billie sighs. “Congratulations. You seem very happy. I just want to make sure you’re not putting yourself in the same situation as before. I worry about you, Bubbie.”
“Aww,” I whisper.
He winks at me.
“I’m happy and safe,” he comfortably confirms as he twists the ring on my finger. “We’ll plan something soon, okay? You, me, and Carlee.”
“Good! I still need to plan a girls’ weekend with her and Lexi,” she says .
“I’m sure she’d love that,” he repeats back to her, and the call ends. “Anyway, we’ll chat soon.”
“Soon,” she says and ends the call.
“Didn’t want her to know I was here?” I ask.
“I didn’t want her to bombard you with five hundred questions that you’re not ready to address yet,” he replies, watching me. “What’s up?”
I shake my head.
“Come on. Something is bothering you.”
“Are you sure I can make you happy?”
Weston chuckles. “I’d be a lot happier if you were sitting on my face, but this will do for now.”
A smile slides across my lips.
“Get out of your head,” he says. “And to answer your question, yes. You have no idea what you do to me.”
We arrive at The Park and head to Easton and Lexi’s place. As we walk in, music drifts through the air, and the delightful aroma of baking cookies fills the space. Easton is settled in an armchair, carefully drawing in a little black book.
“Breakfast,” Weston announces, holding up several takeout bags.
“Amazing!” Lexi replies from the bar, her focus glued to her laptop, where she’s typing away.
She has been honing her playwriting skills for the past five months while navigating her pregnancy. Easton has already secured a production company for when her project is complete. From what she’s let me read, I think her work is nothing short of incredible. With the right actors, it could be Broadway huge.
As she takes a sip of tea, Weston carefully sets the bags down on the bar.
“What have you two been up to today?” Lexi asks, her gaze flickering to the hickeys on my neck and my swollen lips.
“Just been working and had breakfast. Oh, Weston played Für Elise for me,” I offer casually as I meet his warm gaze .
He shoots me a wink.
“Really? Für Elise is an interesting choice.” Easton closes his book and strides over to us. “You played again?”
Weston’s perfect teeth graze over his bottom lip. “Yes. I was very inspired. Anyway, we brought pancakes, sausage, and eggs. Do you need anything else before we head out?”
Easton pulls Weston aside, their voices low as they share a quiet conversation. Though I can catch fragments of their words, I don’t have enough details to piece it together. Neither of them sounds happy.
Meanwhile, Lexi and I chat in the kitchen as she slices into her sausage links. “What if I held a surprise costume party here? I could order amazing food and adorable little cupcakes. And before anyone can bite into their cupcakes, we’ll reveal it’s really a pregnancy announcement, and the color of the cake will be the expected gender.”
“I think that’s a very cute idea! The inside of the cupcake is such a nice touch. Get everyone involved,” I respond enthusiastically.
“Even Easton and I have no idea. We’ll learn with everyone else,” Lexi says, her excitement growing. She gently places her hand on her belly. “I’m so happy, but I’m scared to death.”
I smile wide. “I’m so happy for you. You’re going to be an incredible mom. Plus, you have the best doctors on the planet. Everything is going to be perfect with no complications. And I’ll babysit as much as you need. I love babies. Did I cover all your fears?”
“Yes.” She snorts. “Thank you.” She barely gets the words out before she bursts into crocodile tears.
“Oh my God,” I say, immediately hugging her. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s hormones.” She shakes her head, sniffling. “On top of all of that, I just want you to get your happily ever after too. And I’ve been way too pushy. I’m sorry. I can tell you’re stressed, and I don’t want to add to it.”
“Hey, it’s fine. Please don’t apologize. I find it endearing that you’re not great at playing matchmaker. It’s just part of your personality to try to set me up with your husband’s identical twin brother,” I tell her, trying to understand. “If you keep crying, I’ll start too, and we don’t need that. I’m a very ugly crier. My brothers made fun of me for it! Plus, you’re not supposed to be under any stress at all. Cross my name off your list.”
She sniffles, sucking in a deep breath. “I just remember how we dated that same jerk in college and how we have the same taste in men,” she says with a laugh, even as tears stream down her face. “I read a few of your journal entries. It made me so sad, Carlee. I’m really sorry. I feel like I abandoned you after everything you did for me.”
“No, no. You did not, Lex. Seriously. Those entries weren’t for anyone to read. They were just for me to get my thoughts out of my head. I don’t even fully remember what I wrote,” I say truthfully. “No pity parties, okay? Weston and I are great friends. And when things seem too good to be true for me, they usually are, so I’m being careful. Even though I want to lose myself with him, I don’t know if I can. I’m trying to give this a chance,” I confess, and she listens to every hushed word.
“A chance is all Weston needs.” Lexi wipes away her tears.
“Uh, everything okay?” Easton asks, moving toward us, concern etched in his brows. “Darling?”
“She’s fine,” I say, smiling, loving how much Easton cares.
“Just overwhelmed with joy! I think we planned the surprise baby reveal party,” Lexi says, recovering quickly, sniffling as she squeezes my hand.
“Great,” Weston says, walking toward me. “Anyway, please enjoy your breakfast. Millie wants you to visit her.”
“Maybe. Have fun.” Easton gives us a wave as Weston walks past me, grabbing my hand and pulling me away.
“I’ll text you some food ideas,” Lexi says, waving with a smile.
We take the elevator to the penthouse, and he seems lost in thought .
“Easton just forced me to take leave from work,” he mumbles.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because he pulled rank like an asshole,” he says, shaking his head. “He said I needed to spend time with you.”
“He’d also said he wasn’t getting involved.” I shake my head, somewhat annoyed.
“Yeah, well, he changed his mind and wiped my schedule for the next two weeks.”
We step off the elevator and walk inside.
“If you could visit anywhere in the entire world, where would you go?”
A smile touches my lips. “Home.”
“Anywhere, and you choose Texas?”
“There is a caveat.” I laugh. “You have to come with me. My grandma said she’d remove me from her will if I didn’t visit.”
“Damn. Your grandma is tough.” Weston smirks.
I narrow my eyes. “She didn’t give me a contract to get married at forty.”
“Touché.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“How about we trade? I’ll go on vacation with you and your parents, and you can meet the Jollys. Deal?”
He holds out his hand, and we shake on it.
“What was with the hesitation?” he asks.
“It’s just … I know everyone in my family will get attached to you. And if we break this off, they’ll never let me live it down.”
It’s the truth. Mawmaw will love Weston for his gentle heart. They all will. Even my asshole brothers.
He exhales, smirking. “You said if .”
My mouth opens and closes. “I meant when.”
“No. No, you didn’t,” he mutters.
We tumble through unspoken words, lost together in thought.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I whisper, feeling my body temperature rise .
“Not a fucking chance, Little Miss Denial.” Weston shrugs off his coat and hangs it by the door. “ Not a fucking chance. ”
I kick off my shoes and move to the kitchen to grab some water, my throat feeling parched. As I glance at the piano, heat rushes through me, and Für Elise drifts into my mind.
Weston watches me closely.
“Easton seemed shocked that you’d played again,” I say.
“It’d been a long time. Lena had forced me to stop.”
“You stopped painting because of her as well?”
He nods, a shadow crossing his face. “Love, combined with mental and emotional abuse, is fucking wild, isn’t it? I would have given up everything to make her happy. She isolated me from anything that had brought me even a semblance of joy. That woman was only smiling when I was miserable. She fed off my sadness and anger. When I caught her cheating on me the first time, it was in our bed. The second time, it was against my piano. The third time, well …”
“In your art studio,” I whisper. “You caught her three times?”
“Love makes us blind. I gave too many chances.”
His expression changes, and my heart breaks for him all over again. Even though he shows me his softer side, I think about how much this divorce has hardened him.
“I’m so sorry, Wes.” I move closer, wrapping my arms around him.
“Don’t,” he says, leaning his head to kiss my hair. “I don’t want your pity.”
“It’s not pity; it’s admiration,” I tell him, holding him tighter, repeating the same words he said to me not too long ago.
“You inspire me to reclaim those parts of myself that I thought I’d lost forever,” he admits, and I don’t let him go.
“I guess all that’s left is for you to paint me.” I smile, pulling away just enough to meet his gaze.
He kisses my forehead. “I already have.”