Chapter Three #2
"When we got back here, and she was gone, I followed her back to campus. Found her outside her dorm with another man." I shove the ring back into my pocket. "I decided I wasn't fucking needed at that point. I went straight to the airport and caught the first flight out the next morning."
"What man?"
"How the fuck should I know?"
"She's been single since I met her, Ridley. I don't know what the fuck you think you saw, but it wasn't Paisley with another man." He shakes his head at me. "You didn't stop to ask questions?"
"I fucked up. I know I fucked up," I growl. "I saw the woman I wanted to marry in the arms of another man, and I fucking bolted, okay? I knew if I didn't, I'd fucking kill him."
"Fix it," he says, shaking his head like he's disappointed in me.
"You want to come down off your high horse there, you dick? You know damn well that if you saw Lucy in some other man's arms, you'd have lost it, too."
"Yeah, I would have," he says bluntly, his eyes glittering with jealousy, as if the thought alone pisses him off. "But unlike you, I wouldn't have run all the way to Italy to lick my wounds. I actually would have fucking killed him if that's what I had to do. She's mine."
"You…are a terrifying motherfucker, little brother."
"No," he says softly. "I just know who and what I'm willing to fight and die for. The thought of loving like that scares the shit out of you."
I don't say anything, partially because he's right.
Until that day, I'd never faced that side of myself—the one willing to kill.
But seeing Paisley in some other motherfucker's arms?
I faced it. And it scared the shit out of me.
Not because she didn't deserve to be loved like that, but because she did.
And I was convinced she'd chosen someone else.
I ripped my own goddamn heart out of my chest to spare hers because I thought I was giving her what she wanted. And the whole time, I was wrong.
Is it too late to go back now? To fix it?
I don't know…and that scares the shit out of me, too.
I go straight to my parents after I leave the winery to get that shit over with.
Surprisingly, Ma doesn't yell at me. She just listens.
And then she hugs and me asks what I'm going to do.
I don't really have an answer for her. I know what I want to do, but I'm worried as hell that I'm already too late. That there is no fixing it now.
I know I have to try, though. I have to keep trying, even if it means it takes the rest of my life. Paisley deserves that. Hell, she deserved it all along.
Christ, how did I fuck up so badly?
I'm waiting outside the restaurant when she strolls up for lunch, dressed in a pretty white romper that skims every gorgeous curve of her body. With Lyra's little hand clutched in hers, she looks happier than she did this morning. At least until she sees me.
Her smile falls, and her steps falter.
Lyra notices and glances up. Her little blue eyes narrow at me. She doesn't rush to hug me like she normally does, and that's how I know I'm in big trouble with my niece.
"Hi, Sprout," I murmur, bending to kiss her on the cheek.
"Unca Widley." She cocks her head to the side, her free hand planted on her hip. "Me and Gammie are mad wif you."
Paisley hides a smile behind her hand.
"Are you big mad or little mad, Sprout?"
"Big mad. Gammie wants'ta put Papa's–"
"Lyra!" Paisley growls before she can finish that sentence.
Lyra blinks innocent blue eyes at Paisley before turning back to me. "You maked Aunt Paiswey cry, and I lobe her."
"I'm real sorry I made her cry," I murmur earnestly, staring straight at Paisley, who is looking everywhere but at me. "The last thing I want to do is hurt her. She doesn't deserve that."
Paisley snorts softly, not giving an inch. Not that I blame her. All this fucking time… Christ, I'd hate me too if I were her.
"Pwomise?" Lyra holds out her pinky.
I don't hesitate to loop mine through hers, which earns me a big grin from my niece. She squeals, throwing her arms around my shoulders.
"Yay! We fwiends now. Aunt Paiswey, you fwiends now?"
"Yeah, sure," Paisley murmurs to Lyra, still not looking at me. "Let's go get something to eat."
"Unca Widley come?"
"No!" Paisley practically shouts, only to grimace. "I mean, this is a girls' lunch. No boys allowed."
"Oh." Lyra shrugs. "Sorry, Unca Widley. You can't sit wif us."
"It's all good, Sprout." I drop a kiss on her head. "Why don't you go ask Huck to get you a table? Your aunt will be right behind you."
Lyra takes off like a rocket, throwing herself against the doors of the restaurant to force them open. Once she's through, I rise to my feet to face Paisley.
"Can we talk?"
"No." She steps around me, still not even looking at me. It's starting to piss me off. I want her eyes on me, but she hasn't spared me a single look since she saw me standing here. "We said what needed to be said this morning. If you'll excuse me, I have plans."
"Dimples, please." I reach for her, my fingertips trailing down her arm.
She immediately jerks it away. "Don't touch me. And stop calling me that. As a matter of fact, I think it would be for the best if we just didn't interact at all while I'm here."
"Oh, that's what you think, huh?"
"It is."
"Well, too goddamn bad," I growl, pressing up against her from behind. "I'll let you go now because Lyra's waiting, but this isn't over, baby. We will be talking. Soon."
I brush my lips against the side of her throat in a tiny touch. I know damn well that she doesn't mean to do it, but she whimpers softly, melting into me for a split second before she remembers how fucking mad she is. And then she jolts toward the doors like I threatened to set her on fire.
"Good luck with that," she mutters over her shoulder. "And if you touch me again, I'll own your portion of this vineyard, Ridley. Do not test me."
God, she's sexy when she's mad.
"Take it then, Dimples. It'll be yours soon enough anyway."
Instead of responding, she rips open the door of the restaurant and sails through, her gorgeous ass swaying in her skirt. I grit my teeth and plant my feet, trying like hell to convince myself not to go after her.
I want to do it. Christ, do I ever.
But I don't. Not yet.