Chapter 26
26
CARLEE
I meet Weston’s eyes, noticing how my sister is drooling over my fiancé.
“Would you like to sit?” I ask her, standing to offer my seat next to Weston as I settle onto his lap.
Mawmaw immediately senses the tension in the room.
I’ve never been able to understand Abbi; she has always tried to get under my skin. It’s impossible for her to be genuinely happy for me, and even now, she seems intent on awkwardly flirting with the man I’m going to marry.
Fake marry.
She has always been competitive with me and has tried to one-up me since we were kids.
“I heard you were divorced,” she remarks as Weston wraps his arms around me.
He laughs like it’s no big deal. Keeping the energy high as she tries to bring it down.
“Actually, I heard the same about you,” he responds cheerfully. “But I think you’ve got me beat on the number. Twice, right?” He sounds way too enthusiastic about this.
Abbi scoffs.
“It’s really not a big deal, is it? Sometimes, we marry people who aren’t meant for us. Some of us do that more than once,” Weston offers, chuckling lightly. He put her in her place without hesitation and without even trying. “I won’t make the same mistake twice,” he mutters matter-of-factly.
“Damn,” Dean whispers under his breath.
Weston is used to dealing with presidents, CEOs, and world leaders. My sister is a fly in comparison.
“Third time’s a charm,” she says. “Hopefully, the second is yours.”
My sister glances at me, and I offer her a sweet smile.
She’s enraged. I can see it in her eyes.
No one ever dares to talk back to her, and Weston establishing that boundary early on is smart. If given an inch, she will always take a mile. Not with him though.
“How’s the new job?” Mawmaw asks Abbi, successfully steering the conversation in a different direction.
When the focus moves back to her, she lets out a relieved sigh.
“Fantastic! My boss is incredible. She works me hard, but we click. I even invited her to visit this weekend. There’s a possibility of her sponsoring the Valentine’s Day event next year. If you’re still here, you might all get to meet her.”
I study Abbi, aware of her constant need for validation. This is one of the main reasons we clash.
Weston tilts his head, locking eyes with me. I can’t help but smile. Our silent conversation continues as I lean back against him, feeling him grow hard beneath me. He interlocks his fingers around my waist to keep me in place.
“Stop it,” he mutters against my ear, nibbling on my lobe.
My brother glares at us, and I shoot him an evil eye in return.
“You’re pissing Matteo off,” Weston whispers.
I turn to him, gently placing my palm on his cheek before meeting his gaze. It’s just the two of us. Everything in the room fades away, and I’m completely lost in his eyes.
“Wow, you two really are in love,” Mawmaw comments, jolting me back to reality.
My heart races as I become aware of the chatter around us, realizing I was too lost with Weston.
“Love to see it,” my mom adds.
A wave of guilt washes over me, knowing I’m lying to everyone about this engagement.
Weston notices my shift, and his fingers lightly brush against my back. The family continues to steer the conversation back to Weston and me. He shares bits about himself and briefly touches on his work without sounding boastful. My mom seems genuinely intrigued, and so do my brothers, who ask questions that aren’t really their business. Lucas adds in commentary where necessary and makes jokes.
Weston responds thoughtfully, revealing just enough without getting too personal. He works the room effortlessly, commanding everyone’s attention as they lean in to listen. He shines like a diamond in my grandmother’s living room. My sister watches him with an intensity like she wants to eat him for dessert.
“Cake, anyone?” Mawmaw says, almost as if she read my mind. “I’m going to go ice it.”
Weston sips the last of his coffee, his fingers grazing my wrist. “Carlee’s incredible. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her by my side.” He leans in to whisper, “I mean it.”
I believe him.
Ten minutes later, Mawmaw serves the cake, alongside enormous glasses of milk.
Once the sun sets, she unapologetically ushers everyone out of the house. I feel a wave of relief wash over me as silence fills the room.
I relax on the couch beside him, my eyes scanning over the space. I’ve missed being home so much .
Mawmaw changes into her nightgown and silk cap, then comes into the living room to bid us good night. “Leelee, I assume you’ll be in your favorite bedroom, and Weston will be in the other?”
“That’s right, Mawmaw.”
Weston glances at me with his brows knitted together.
“If you need more firewood, the storage shed is full. Hudson took care of it for me yesterday. Good night, lovebirds.”
“Good night, Mawmaw,” Weston replies with a warm smile.
“See y’all bright and early,” she says, squeezing our shoulders.
Moments later, she shuffles down the long hallway in her house slippers. Her bedroom is on the opposite end of the house, and I barely hear her door click shut.
My mind buzzes from family overload.
“So, we’re not sharing a bed?” Weston asks, his disappointment evident.
“I completely forgot about that,” I admit, feeling annoyed by the idea of him not being by my side while we’re here.
The fireplace roars, and we both stare into the flames. His arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me closer against him. I find myself lost in thought, entranced by the dance of the flames as the fresh wood crackles and pops.
“They like you,” I whisper, relaxing into him.
“I hope so.” His fingers gently trace the outside of my arm as he holds me.
“Weston,” I say, turning to face him.
No more words escape me. His lips crash against mine with a hunger that feels both exhilarating and inevitable. We’re losing control, and I want to embrace it. He lays me back against the couch as I wrap my arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. I laugh against his kisses. We’re breathless and alive. It feels like I’ve been born again.
“You smell so damn good,” he murmurs against my skin, his cock hard against me .
“She’s still awake,” I mutter, tugging his lips between my teeth, craving him more than I crave air. “If she catches us …”
“I need you,” Weston confesses, his voice low and urgent.
“I need you too.” My eyes roam over him, and I realize we’re on the same page, our desires intertwining like words in a shared story.
“You drive me crazy.” His cock grinds against me.
“Weston,” I gasp, “please.”
He chuckles, kissing my jaw and claiming my mouth. “Not on your Mawmaw’s couch. I’ll meet you in your room in twenty minutes. Does the door lock?”
“Yes,” I whisper as he presses hard against me. “You’re actually going to give yourself to me?”
“Fuck yes,” he mutters. “I need you like I need air.”
A minute later, he’s standing, his cock at full attention. “Good night, Carlee. See you in the morning,” he says in his normal voice, just in case Mawmaw is listening.
“Good night. Sweet dreams. I’m going to stay up a little longer,” I tell him, watching as he stalks down the other hallway.
There are two spare rooms and a sewing room, where Mawmaw does most of her crafts.
I lean back on the couch and sigh, giddy, finding it ridiculous that we’re sneaking around like this.
Maybe Lexi’s right. Maybe all Weston needs is a real chance. I’m giving him one.
I stare at the spackled ceiling, letting the minutes tick down. Five minutes later, I go to my room and leave the door cracked. I stand just inside it, looking at all the snow globes my grandmother and her mother collected over the years when she was growing up. This was my favorite place to be as a kid because it always felt like a fairy tale.
I set my laptop on the desk and open the top drawer. I see a pair of handcuffs with keys next to it. I place them on the bedside dresser .
After, I slide out of my jeans, and as I take off my sweater, the door quietly opens. When I turn around, I see Weston standing in front of me.
“Getting started without me?” he asks, reaching over to lock the door as I toss the heavy fabric onto the floor.
“Why waste time?” I whisper, placing my hands on my hips.
Weston saunters over to me, and as soon as we’re close, it’s over. We’re hands and mouth and teeth, losing ourselves in each other’s touch. I’m desperate and oh-so fucking wet for him.
“It hasn’t been twenty minutes,” he confesses.
“I don’t care. I’ve waited all day for this,” I tell him.
“Proof that there are still things to look forward to when you’re in a relationship,” he says, kissing my shoulder and carefully peeling my bra strap down my arm. His fingers graze across my skin, causing goose bumps to form. “Ah, love that I can do that to you,” he whispers.
He undoes my bra with a simple snap. It falls to the ground between us. Weston dips down, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around the peak.
“You always have,” I admit, relishing how his mouth feels against my skin.
Weston slides his hands into my panties, and the sensation feels so fucking good.
“Mmm, you weren’t exaggerating earlier.”
“I want you inside of me,” I confess, guiding him to the twin bed.
His long legs barely fit, but there’s just enough room for both of us.
He leans against the wooden bed frame, one leg propped up. I crawl onto the bed, sliding his joggers from his body before removing his boxers as well.
“Condom in the pocket,” he whispers.
“Love a man who’s prepared. ”
I snatch and rip it open, sheathing him. He’s hard for me.
Carefully, I straddle him. His hands find my waist, guiding me as I adjust to his size. I hiss; he stretches me so fucking full.
“You feel incredible,” he huffs.
“You do too,” I barely cry out.
I take his face in my palms, studying his gorgeous features, drowning with him. We share slow kisses, our noses brushing together, the intensity growing.
“Wes …” I slide up and down on him, our bodies meeting rhythmically.
Being with him is an out-of-body experience. I feel like I’ve been transported to another dimension, lost in his touch, in the warmth that floods through me. Our labored breaths fill the silence as he kisses my chest and wraps his arm around me.
My head falls back on my shoulders as he pumps deep inside me. I cover my mouth, stifling the cries threatening to escape from the intense pleasure he brings. When my eyes open, I catch a glimpse of the silver handcuffs glinting in the light. Smirking, I reach over and grab them.
His eyes don’t leave mine as I slide one cuff around his wrist and loop it through the bed frame.
Weston shakes his head, then cuffs me to the other side of him. “We’re in this together.”
His free hand runs through my hair as our movements grow more ragged, more intentional. His deep grunts have me shushing him against his lips as we chase our releases together.
“So close,” I whisper as we race toward our end.
We’re losing control. The world around us disappears as every inch of my body seizes. I slap my free hand over my mouth while he slams inside me. The bed squeaks beneath us, and I kiss and nibble on his neck, barely managing to hold on as I ride out my orgasm, feeling him empty inside me.
I collapse on top of him, breathless. The world tilts on its axis as I get lost in the fog of being with him. We’re both too stunned to speak, our pulses racing. He holds me in his arms, still buried deep within me, his fingers lightly brushing over my skin.
“Mmm,” he murmurs. “Unlock us, gorgeous,” Weston says, glancing at our wrists.
“Right here,” I whisper, my chest rising and falling as I reach for the keys on the bedside table.
He sits upright. “Babe, those aren’t it. They go to a filing cabinet or a safe. Look at the shape.”
I twist my wrist, glancing at the keyhole. “Shit. This is not happening.”
Somehow, I slide off of him, relieved to see the condom still attached after the last scare. I haven’t missed a pill since then though.
I stretch and barely manage to grab my panties with my toes. As I slide them on, I realize my shirt won’t go over my body—not with both of us cuffed to the bed frame. My heart rate increases, and I start to feel overwhelmed.
“It’s okay. I might have a solution,” Weston finally says as I attempt to cover myself.
“And?” I sift through possible options, but nothing comes to mind.
“Brody.”
I shake my head, glancing at the condom that’s still attached to him. “No way. He can’t see us like this.”
“Your brothers then? Or would you prefer I call a locksmith to meet us at nine on a Sunday night, handcuffed to your grandmother’s bed while both of us are naked?”
“Okay, okay, you make a good point. Brody is the safest option. What’s he going to do, saw it off our wrists?”
“He carries a cuff key on him at all times,” Weston confirms. “He’s prepared for anything.”
“Even this?” I glance at our predicament. “How do we explain ourselves? ”
He chuckles, pulling me close to him and kissing my lips with a laugh. “Look at us. We won’t have to.”
Somehow, Weston and I maneuver ourselves into a position where we can slide open the window.
He starts with a light chuckle, then falls into full-blown laughter. I join in.
“This is ridiculous. How can I be so smart and also dumb as hell?” I glance at him.
“Don’t forget cute,” he says, and I elbow him. “But I wouldn’t want to be handcuffed to a bed with anyone else.”
I smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
Fifteen minutes later, Brody lightly taps on the glass. He lifts the screen and pokes his head inside, only to find us covered with blankets as our arms dangle above our heads.
“I don’t want to know,” he mutters, holding up his hand. “Unbelievable.”
He tosses the key inside, and it lands on the mattress. Weston snatches it, unclicking my wrist first before freeing himself.
“Thanks,” he tells his cousin, returning the key to him. “I’ll never give you crap for that again.”
“Good.” Brody walks away, his leather jacket fading into the night.
I never heard an engine or saw any lights against the front window so he must’ve taken the trails that are cut between everyone’s properties. If he was on the farm during tree season, he might know this place better than I do right now.
I fall onto Weston’s chest, and he holds me close, kissing me .
“That was close,” I say, laughing as I listen to his heartbeat while he runs his fingers through my hair.
“Always an adventure with you.”
“Always,” I whisper, feeling my eyes grow heavy. “I can’t fall asleep. I need to schedule my post for the morning,” I tell him, sitting up to meet his deep blue eyes. I want to swim in them.
“Do it now,” he replies, kissing my forehead before releasing me. “Join me right back here.”
“I’ll be quick. Less than five minutes.”
“No need to rush perfection. They’re going to love your words,” he encourages, pulling the blankets over himself.
“They’re going to love you,” I tell him, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Are you?”
My breath catches in my throat, and I stare at him. “I think so.”
His fingers thread through my hair, pulling me back down to him. Our mouths and tongues dance together, growing too desperate.
“I’m not giving up on you,” he whispers.
“Please don’t.” I steal a kiss, tempted to stay right here.
“Schedule your post before I distract you,” he whispers.
I grin. “You’re right.”
Somehow, I pull away from him and move to the small desk in the corner. I place the cuffs in the top drawer, where I found them, almost tempted to leave a sticky note nearby to prevent anyone else from making the same dumb mistake I did. Those keys are tossed in a different drawer.
I slide my laptop out of my bag and set it on the flat surface. The chair has been in this room since I was a kid, but I somehow manage to perch my ass on the edge. I open my browser and review the post I wrote while traveling here.
FROM THE DESK OF LADYLU X
LuxBabies,
Did you miss me? I’m back after a longer-than-intended sabbatical, and there’s much to discuss.
Today’s topic is one I know you’ve been clamoring for:
Weston Calloway and Carlee Jolly.
I’ve sifted through your emails, waded through all the juicy rumors and outrageous speculation surrounding these two after the big announcement on Saturday night. It’s like Weston was urging me to come back, just for him.
Many of you are eagerly awaiting my detailed analysis of why I believe this couple won’t survive. Considering how I’ve successfully predicted the endings of each of Mr. Calloway’s relationships over the twelve years, I should be able to do the same for this one. Yet here I am, perplexed by this news. It has me questioning if I truly know Weston Calloway as well as I thought.
Currently, three rumors are swirling about this couple, and I anticipate that number will only grow as we learn more about her—especially now that they are publicly engaged. As of now, I refuse to use the word officially. More about that down below.
Allegedly, Weston’s divorce will be finalized later today, which means we could hear wedding bells as soon as Tuesday. That would be shocking to everyone.
Before we delve deeper, let me clarify: this post is based on speculation regarding public figures, utilizing information that is readily available online. My opinions are my own, and they are for entertainment purposes only .
Please don’t sue me, Weston.
Rumor #1: The couple met while Weston was still married. Carlee is a home-wrecker.
Based on Weston’s track record of committing to women without any cheating scandals, I find this claim hard to believe. He’s many things, but a cheater isn’t one of them. I genuinely believe he loved his ex-wife and would have done anything for her, even at his own expense. He didn’t start publicly dating anyone until a month after filing for divorce, but we know that the marriage was over before it started. He may be a serial dater, but he fully invests himself when he commits.
Rumor #2: Carlee is a gold digger.
Based on the interviews Lexi Calloway has given, discussing her friendship with Carlee, I find it hard to believe the claims being made. She could have easily monetized their relationship months ago and engaged in clout chasing, which would have allowed her to make a fortune from her connection to Weston. While many of us have read her journal, I’m left here questioning what she hasn’t documented.
What other secrets about Weston is she currently keeping? We have seen plenty of gold diggers attached to Weston Calloway, but her actions are unlike anyone we’ve witnessed in the past. Unfortunately, I disagree with this narrative being pushed.
Rumor #3: C & W are in a fake relationship to help his image.
This is plausible.
However, we know Weston doesn’t need assistance with his image. He’s America’s sweetheart, one of the sexiest men alive, and he possesses incredible charm. His fan club is global, and even though his ex has attempted to initiate smear campaigns, she hasn’t been successful. His popularity has only increased since his divorce became messy a year ago.
I’d be shocked if he faked this because he doesn’t need to. I suppose time will reveal whether this rumor is true or false. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.
I sincerely hope Weston finally finds whatever it is he’s searching for.
Right now, I fear we may be asking ourselves the wrong questions about this relationship.
Many of us want to know why her , but maybe we should be asking ourselves, Why not?
She’s one of us, a “normie,” just like Lexi Calloway. It gives me hope that perhaps love can transcend the boundaries of social class that keep us separated.
On a serious note about love: I used to believe that falling in love was hard, but now I’m convinced the real struggle lies in maintaining it. Love can be kind, but it can also be oh-so cruel. Most of us desire it, but very few manage to keep it for a lifetime.
Sometimes, I question love itself.
What is it exactly?
I believe love is about holding space for someone and accepting their messy parts. Love teaches us to be comfortable in silence because just their presence is enough .
It’s laughter, shared vulnerabilities and a deep connection that feels like it can move mountains. Love is that bubbling deep inside after a single glance. It’s unimaginable intimacy and compassion and understanding. It’s feeling safe in their arms. Sometimes, we find love when we’re not ready, when we’re weak, but that’s when we need it the most. To love and be loved takes courage. Which brings us back to the age-old question: Is it better to have loved and lost or to never have loved at all?
Weston deserves to be in a relationship that truly fulfills him. I wish him the very best.
What do you think? Are there any other rumors I haven’t addressed? Leave me a comment down below. I’ll be back next week with more juicy celebrity news and drama, served with a side of honest opinions.
Until then, sending my love,
LadyLux
A smile lingers. I’ve still got it.
I schedule the post to go live in the morning, then close my laptop. While I still feel anxious about it, I push the thoughts away. It’s not easy to rise again after losing my self-confidence, but I did it, even if my legs shook.
I move toward the bed and crawl under Weston’s arm. He wraps the blanket snuggly around us. My emotions begin to take over because I really didn’t know if I’d ever be able to post again.
“You inspired me,” I admit.
Weston holds me a little tighter. “So fucking proud of you,” he says, kissing my neck and my ear. “Can’t wait to read it in the morning.”
“Sneak out of here in about an hour, okay?”
“Okay. Good night,” he says.
“Night,” I tell him.
The silence lingers .
“Wes?”
“Mmhmm?”
“Is this what falling in love feels like?”
“Yes,” he whispers, kissing my neck as butterflies swarm inside of me. “Yes, it fucking is.”