Chapter 29
29
CARLEE
M y mind is spinning.
My thoughts are out of control.
I might crash. This seems too serious for my liking.
I wish I could predict the words that will come out of Weston’s mouth, but he’s unreadable, and he’s completely blocked me out of his emotions. If he told me he was really Easton, I’d believe it.
“Is this something that can wait?” I finally ask, wanting to enjoy the sunshine, the sound of the trickling creek, and the cool February breeze as the wind travels through the brown grass. “We don’t have to ruin today. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”
“This conversation is unavoidable, gorgeous.” His thumb brushes across my bottom lip, a featherlight touch that sends goose bumps racing over my skin.
“You told me things don’t have to be so serious,” I remind him.
“Yeah, but this can’t wait any longer. If I don’t tell you, Easton will. He’s already threatened me and said you deserved to know.”
“I don’t like the look on your face,” I whisper.
I’m so scared this protective bubble we’ve been living in is about to burst. I don’t want everything around us to crumble. Is this proof that when things are too good to be true, they usually are? I push away those thoughts.
“I’ll be right back.”
His brow lifts in question as I walk over to the saddlebag. I shove my hand deep inside the pocket, fumbling until I find the familiar bottle of Fireball. It’s something Hudson always keeps stashed in his pack. The seal has been broken, but it’s full. I take several big gulps. The cinnamon burns going down, a sensation I welcome. It tastes shittier than I remember.
I return to Weston’s side, resting my head on his stomach. “I just want to watch the clouds a little while longer.”
“Is day drinking a good idea?” he asks, a hint of concern in his voice.
“This is doomsday prepping. And if you’re concerned, I can ride a little tipsy,” I admit, forcing a laugh to keep my tone light as I meet his eyes. “Want some?”
Weston props himself up on his elbow and takes several large gulps.
“You’re lost in your thoughts.” He passes the cinnamon liquor back to me.
We take turns, the bottle gleaming in the sunlight like a promise or maybe a warning. It goes down fast and steady. This strangely feels like a goodbye.
“That cloud is shaped like a heart.” Weston points up at it with one hand while his fingers thread through my hair, loosely twisting strands. “It’s a good omen.”
I smile, listening to the calming water. Am I enjoying our last time together?
I hiccup, realizing I’m headed to Wastedville. The bottle is over half empty.
“Oh no,” I whisper, sitting upright, my head spinning.
“Exactly my thoughts,” Weston says, glancing at it. “This tastes like shit.”
“Does the job,” I say as we drink it like we’re parched .
When my face grows numb, I know it’s time to finish this unavoidable conversation.
“Okay, it’s showtime. You were at the part where Lena wanted revenge and you hid my identity from her,” I tell him, meeting his gaze.
“Oh, right.” He gives me a small smile. “After LuxLeaks was on my radar, I read every article you’d published. Your words became my refuge and made me realize I was being manipulated. So many were too damn afraid to speak the truth. But not you. LadyLux gave no fucks and backed claims with receipts. It started spreading around our social circle, and everyone eventually turned on Lena.”
I let out a ragged breath. “Wow.”
“While I protected your identity, I learned everything I could about you. I had Brody follow you to ensure you weren’t dangerous or in danger. I learned you worked at the W, and that was how you gained access to so much private information. Genius, actually.”
An eternity passes between us.
“Say something,” he urges.
“How long was I followed?” I ask.
“Years,” he admits.
I stare up at the clouds. “Was it all a lie? Did you trick me into falling in love with you?”
Deep blue eyes bore into mine. “Do you feel that way about Easton and Lexi? Is their relationship any less real because we planned when they’d meet?”
The question catches me off guard, but I contemplate it, knowing that neither of us could’ve made them fall in love. We knew they were compatible. It made our job easy. Their love is the real deal. Undeniably so.
Weston continues combing his fingers through my hair. “We don’t get to choose who we fall in love with. You know that.”
I sigh. “Damn you and your logic.”
“Also, my goal was never to date you. And I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.” Weston’s fingers trail up my arm until his palm rests on my cheek. He sits up, keeping my head propped in his lap. Sunshine beams behind him, and he looks down at me like he’s the angel of death.
When he smiles, my heart does a pitter-patter, and I know I’m in too deep with him. There is no life jacket, and I’ve been treading water since we met, hoping I’d survive him. I will, won’t I?
The question lingers in my gaze as I stare at his beautiful face. “Why were you at Sluggers?”
Weston swallows hard, the moment growing too intense. “I needed closure. I needed to see the face of the woman who had saved my life. Just once. But when our eyes met, time stood completely still. Once you spoke to me, I imagined an entire lifetime with you. Being strangers was no longer an option.”
“Weston,” I whisper, looking up at how beautiful he is.
“You dared to be honest when you could’ve lost everything. You risked it all for me. I was no one to you. And I didn’t understand why you cared until I got to know you and your heart. I’m here with you right now because of you,” he says.
“I’m glad. I’m glad I could shake you awake. I was worried you wouldn’t survive her. You lost your spark. It was depressing to watch,” I admit.
“I know.” He nods. “There was one article you wrote—‘When Egotistical Narcissists Marry Rich.’ It was the single thing that woke me up and made me realize I was living in a nightmare. I didn’t understand how I’d let it happen. I was a shell of a human, Carlee. You saw me when the world didn’t. I wasn’t invisible to you.”
My voice gets caught in my throat because that was the last article I wrote about Weston. I tried to save him. There had been too many red flags, but he’d married her anyway. I stopped mentioning him until he filed for a divorce.
“I’d pushed away everyone in my life who cared about me. Easton. Billie. Brody. Asher. Harper. They’d warned me, but somehow, your words reached me. You saved me,” he says.
I move closer, brushing my lips across his. He tastes like cinnamon and spice.
“Thank you.” He kisses my forehead and eyelashes as he holds me tightly in his arms like I’ll vanish if he lets me go. “Your beautiful words set me free.”
I never realized how much he believed in my work and how it resonated with him. My words always held a deeper meaning for him. He wasn’t just being kind and giving random compliments.
A roller coaster of emotions rushes through me, and I’m not able to comprehend the hell he lived in for three long years. My heart aches for past him. She tried to destroy him, to kill him.
“Please don’t cry,” he says, gently wiping my tears away.
“I’m angry for you,” I admit, shaking my head.
“Don’t be. It’s over,” he says, grinning. “Officially.”
I fall back on the blanket, and Weston follows me. We stare at the clouds as my eyes grow heavy.
“Your wife hated my blog, so you protected me from her. You stalked me for actual years while you divorced her, learned about my hangouts and where I worked, purposely befriended me, slept with me, fell in love with me, asked me to be your roommate, and then decided to come home with me to meet my family? Oh, not to mention, we hooked up your identical twin brother with my very best and only friend in the entire world, who’s now carrying your family’s DNA. Did I miss anything?” I blink over at him and hiccup. “Sorry, blame the Fireball. Truth syrup.”
Weston narrows his eyes. “You make me sound like a fucking psycho.”
“Did I exaggerate?” I ask, blinking at him. “Did you take my laptop to help orchestrate this?”
“No.” He laughs. “That would have been evil. I’d have asked for it if I wanted it, and you’d have willingly given it to me. And you’d have been my roommate without the drama. ”
My mouth falls open when he smirks.
“I’m not the villain. I can’t force you or anyone to fall in love with me.”
“Somehow, the Calloways always get what they want.” I tilt my head at him.
I pick up the Fireball, take a long drink, and then burst into laughter as I return to my cloud watching.
“You’re not upset?” he asks.
“No. She probably would’ve killed me! And I kinda like the thought of you stalking me in the night,” I say.
“That never happened.”
“Fantasy Weston will now do that,” I reply, meeting his eyes. “You really were my secret admirer. Go ahead and admit it.”
He smirks. “Fuck, I was.”
I roll over on my side and face him, leaning my head against my hand. “That’s what I want to see. This. You being happy.”
“You promise you’re not upset?” he asks.
“No. I know your heart, so I believe you. And I appreciate you making sure I was safe. However, it could still be very bad for me if she learned I was behind LuxLeaks. That entire scenario is how a villain is born, Weston. It was never supposed to go real life with us.”
“She’ll never know it was you,” he confirms. “No one ever will. That’s a guarantee.”
“Except for whoever stole and hacked into my laptop,” I mutter, becoming more paranoid with each passing second.
“I’m working on tracking it down.”
He kisses me, and I hiccup, breathing cinnamon that feels like fire. Weston twists the ring on my finger. Everything has more meaning than it did this morning.
I meet his gaze. “I choose you, even when it’s messy. You said last night that we’re in this together. Are we?”
“Yes. If you want to be,” he breathes out, and it makes my heart skip a beat .
“No more secrets.”
I crawl into his lap, settling against him as his hot breath brushes against my cheeks. Our faces are so damn close.
“Okay,” he promises. “No more secrets.”
“That night at Sluggers, when our eyes met, deep down, I knew you were there for me,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You wanted me to find you?” he asks, a smile threatening to take over his lips, his eyes twinkling with an intensity that suggests something deeper.
“Yes,” I whisper against his mouth, daring to close the distance between us. “And now that you have, what’s your next move?”
Weston’s eyes close as he kisses me with such passion that we both become breathless. The world around us briefly fades away, leaving only the warmth of his lips and the intoxicating scent of his lingering cologne.
Each kiss feels like a promise, like this could last forever. The fantasy of us that’s lived in my mind could become a reality if we let it.
“Tell me your intentions, Wes,” I nearly beg. “I need to know.”
“I plan to make you my wife,” he whispers.
His lips brush across mine, and the world blurs around us.
“Prove it,” I mutter.