13. Elle
Chapter 13
Elle
I heard every word. After Dean Wilcox had left, Vincent’s house was so painfully quiet that I didn’t dare breathe. My heart thundered against my ribs. This is exactly what I’d been afraid of. He lost his job because of me.
It was tempting to hide in the sanctuary of his bedroom, like a safe little bubble where I didn’t have to face the ugly truth that everything was ruined. But I couldn’t leave Vincent to suffer alone.
Carefully, I made my way into the living room. Vincent was seated on the couch, staring at the floor with a blank look. I inched closer, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. He might want some distance from me right now, and I could understand that.
“Vincent?” I whispered.
He glanced up and his eyes gradually focused on me. There was a haunted look on his face and it made me sick to my stomach.
“I can’t fix this, baby,” he rasped. “I’m sorry.”
I was the one who should be apologizing. I’m the fuck up. Always have been. Always will be. And this time, I dragged the man I loved down with me.
Love .
That word seemed…huge. Monumental. But it felt warm and right, too. And it was bittersweet that I only came to the realization now amid the rubble of our lives.
Tears burned my eyes but I swallowed hard, fighting them back. Vincent had lost so much more than I did. I needed to be strong for him.
I crossed the living room and came to stand in front of Vincent. Without hesitation, he took me by the hips, pulling me between his knees. He wrapped his arms around me, resting his forehead against my stomach.
“Your sister saw us in the courtyard earlier today,” he said, muffled in the fabric of my hoodie. “She had pictures.”
Understanding dawned on me as Dean Wilcox’s words finally made sense.
Helene Roche would like you to know that she will make sure you never work in another school again.
I was going to kill her.
My gaze shifted up toward the ceiling as if I could find the solution to this whole mess written there. I combed my fingers through Vincent’s hair in a silent apology, wishing I could make everything right somehow. I really wasn’t worth all this trouble.
“Let’s go away together,” Vincent said.
I blinked in surprise and looked down at him. He pulled back, his hands at my hips, gazing up at me as if I was worthy of worship.
“We can leave Port Crowne,” he added. “Hell, we’ll leave Massachusetts altogether. Start over somewhere else with a clean slate.”
I shook my head, bewildered.
“And do what? You won’t be able to teach anymore when word gets out about us.”
He shrugged. His gaze shifted past my shoulder to the bookshelves lining his wall. Hundreds of rare books, collected over the years.
“I’ll open my bookstore,” he said. “You can go back to school, if you want. Finish your degree somewhere that your father doesn’t know about.”
I smoothed a lock of hair away from Vincent’s forehead. The idea was so tempting, so idyllic—making a life together, just the two of us. We wouldn’t have to hide anymore. We wouldn’t have to keep our relationship a secret.
“Vincent, I’d only slow you down,” I said. “I barely have enough money saved up to cover three months of rent. I have nothing to offer. I can’t pull my fair share of the weight.”
He hooked his arms around me, pulling me down to straddle his lap on the couch.
“I just want you, Elle.”
God, this man knew how to take my breath away. I placed my hands on his chest as I deliberated. My heart ached to say yes, but that would put a lot of responsibility on Vincent’s shoulders. It wasn’t fair to burden him like that, especially when I was the one who cost him the job in the first place.
Noticing my hesitation, he traced his thumb over my lower lip, cradling my cheek in his palm.
“This isn’t a roommate situation I’m proposing here, baby.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Marry me.”
My jaw dropped. This had to be the stress talking, affecting his decision-making abilities.
“ What?”
“You don’t have to be Giselle Roche anymore,” Vincent replied. “You can be Elle Stonebridge. My wife.”
I climbed off him, shaking my head as if I could clear my jumbled thoughts. Sure, this was a dream come true, but it still left me rattled. It was just…so soon. So fast.
“Look, maybe we should hit the brakes here. We’re both probably a bit confused after everything that has happened and—”
Vincent propped his elbows on his knees, leaning forward as he watched me. The steadiness of his gaze never wavered. He looked calm and in control. He looked like a man who knew exactly what he wanted.
I put a hand to my mouth.
“Holy shit, you’re serious.”
“I won’t deny that I loved my job as a professor,” Vincent replied. “But that’s gone. I’ll never get it back. I’m not going to lose you, too.”
Part of me wanted to leap at the chance and accept without hesitation. The other part of me wondered if this was just one more slice of happiness that would be stripped away from me somewhere down the road.
The future was hazy and blank. No job. Disowned by my family. Meager savings. And no degree.
But I had this man. This handsome, intelligent, strong man who looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world. Maybe I had no clue what I was going to do with my life, but Vincent would make sure I didn’t do it alone.
“I don’t know how to be a wife,” I whispered, plucking at the cuff of my sleeve.
Vincent hooked his fingers into the waistband of my pajamas and tugged me closer.
“You’re a quick learner. I’ve seen it first-hand. You’ll figure it out.”
I rolled my eyes but I couldn’t help the smile that started to spread across my face.
“I haven’t exactly been a straight-A student in class,” I pointed out.
“Never mentioned any classes, did I?”
Vincent peeled my pajamas down, sucking a kiss into my hip. Moving my panties aside, he slid two fingers inside me. I sighed with pleasure.
“What kind of wedding do you want?” he asked.
“Something small.” My breath hitched in my throat when he stroked his fingers and twisted upward. “Cozy. With plenty of wine.”
Vincent cradled my head against his chest.
“I noticed you still haven’t said yes.”
He brushed his thumb against my clit with a teasing touch. I whined and arched my hips up for more.
“ Yes ,” I gasped.
“Good,” he replied with a smile. “Call your sister. Tell her the news.”
I grabbed his wrist.
“Why would I—?”
A wicked gleam came into his eyes. I trailed off as I caught onto his plan. Scrambling for my phone, I pulled up my sister’s number. She answered on the first ring.
“Giselle, where are you?”
Vincent picked up the pace, fingering me harder, faster. I squirmed in his lap.
“You went to Dean Wilcox, didn’t you?” I demanded, gripping the front of Vincent’s shirt.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Helene shot back. “Having sex with a professor. Let alone someone like Stonebridge. He’s too smart for you.”
Vincent pressed his thumb to my clit in measured circles. I whimpered.
“Giselle?” Helene said. “What are you—?”
“He’s mine ,” I rasped.
“What?” she snapped.
“Professor Vincent Stonebridge is my boyfriend, and soon to be my husband. If you flirt with him again— if you lay a finger on him —I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand?”
Helene scoffed.
“Is that a threat? Are you threatening me? I’m your goddamn sister.”
“It’s funny how that didn’t stop you from stabbing me in the back,” I countered.
“I was protecting you.”
Vincent gave my clit a light tap-tap. Electric shocks of pleasure shot through me. My legs twitched, threatening to close. He wedged them open with his forearm.
“You couldn’t stand to see me happy, could you?” I replied.
Helene went stone-cold silent. I hated being right.
“He doesn’t love you, Giselle,” she said at last. “You’re a fool if you think otherwise.”
Vincent must have overheard because a shadow crossed his eyes. He pinched my clit until I squealed. He took the phone out of my hand and pressed it to his ear.
“You saw us together,” he said. “If you can’t tell I was willing to lay everything on the line for this woman, you’re fucking blind.”
Then he tossed the phone aside. The next thing I knew, Vincent had me pinned to the couch, fumbling his cock free from his slacks. With one powerful thrust, he was buried inside me with a stretch that made my legs shake. I felt every inch of his throbbing length, his balls pressed to my ass, his mouth hot at my ear.
“That’s my good fucking girl,” he growled.