42. Daisy
42
Daisy
“ A re you sure?” I ask Violet, lowering the camera from my eye.
I look down at my new toy, smiling. I decided to treat myself by investing in a new SLR film camera of my own. It’s a symbol of my commitment to my photography, plus it has a bunch of cool features I can’t wait to explore.
Besides, I can’t keep using Weston’s.
“I’m sure.” Violet holds out a glass of champagne, grinning. “You’ve captured the most important parts, and I’m sure you’ll grab a few candids throughout the night. Please relax. Enjoy yourself.”
I let the camera hang around my neck, secured by the strap I bought for it. It’s much easier to use this way. Then I take the glass from Violet’s outstretched hand with a smile.
“Thanks.”
We clink glasses and she sighs, leaning against the wall as we watch people dancing in the yard. The ceremony was beautiful—romantic and heartfelt—and I might have shed a few tears as I watched my friends declare their love. Thankfully, it was easy to hide behind the camera. Now, after dinner and speeches, we’re enjoying a few drinks while the guests dance.
“How does it feel to be married?” I ask Violet, sipping the sweet bubbly liquid.
“Amazing.” Her gaze follows Kyle as he dances with her mom, Diana. Violet’s entire face is lit with affection and joy, and I can’t help it—I lift the camera to snap a picture before letting it fall again. Kyle motions for her to join him, and she saunters over.
I hover near the wall, clutching the champagne glass in my hand. I feel naked without the camera pressed to my eye, and despite my best intentions, my gaze finds Weston across the yard, nursing his own glass of champagne. He looks unbelievably handsome, in a suit that makes me weak at the knees.
Seeing him again knocked the wind out of me. I’ve spent two weeks convincing myself that I could live without him, that he needs to focus on repairing things with Jess, but being here now, with him only a few feet away… my heart burns with longing.
His gaze meets mine across the yard, and a tingle starts in my toes, rippling through my entire body. We haven’t said two words to each other all evening, but the way he’s been looking at me could set the room on fire. I’ve tried to focus on Violet and Kyle, really I have, but I could feel Weston’s gaze with every move I made. What I wouldn’t give to have his hands on me, too.
He lifts his champagne glass, sending me a melancholy smile. I know he’s trying to do the right thing by keeping his distance, but it physically hurts me to see him and not be able to speak to him. Not be able to touch him.
I tear my gaze away, my chest tight, and escape upstairs under the guise of changing my camera battery. I need a moment to center myself.
You’re not here for Weston , I remind myself, pacing the quiet living room. The sound of music and laughter drifts up from downstairs, and I square my shoulders resolutely. You’re here to do a job.
With a deep breath, I turn to head back down, just as Kyle appears at the top of the stairs.
“Hey, Daisy!” He grins, clearly a little looser than usual after a few glasses of champagne. Either that or he’s drunk on love. “You having a good time?”
“Yep.” I paste on a smile and move to step around him, but he stops me.
“You sure?” He peers at my face, then gives a shake of his head. “You’re not. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” As if I’ll ruin his wedding by blabbing to him about my problems with Wes. I try harder to make the smile seem genuine, but he’s not buying it.
“Hey,” he says gently, motioning for us to take a seat in the living room. “Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing,” I repeat, forcing a light laugh, hovering by the stairs even though he’s settled in for a chat.
“It’s Wes, isn’t it?”
That’s all it takes for me to sink into the chair beside him. “How did you know?”
His green eyes sparkle. “Violet filled me in on a few details, but even if she hadn’t… it’s hard to miss the way he’s looking at you.”
“How’s he looking at me?” I ask, in spite of myself. Has it really been that obvious to everyone else?
“Like a lovesick puppy.” Kyle chuckles. “And based on all the looks I’ve seen you send his way, I’d guess you feel the same.”
Busted . Shit, I am so unprofessional.
“I swear, I’ve got so many good pictures—”
Kyle’s laugh cuts me off. “I know you have. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying you should be down there dancing with him. We don’t mind.”
“Oh.” My cheeks warm. “It’s not… it’s a little complicated.”
Kyle strokes his beard, eying me thoughtfully. “Wait here.” He disappears down the stairs, then returns with two fresh glasses of champagne, handing me one. “Now, tell me what the problem is.”
I take the glass gratefully. “That’s very kind, but this is your wedding. I’m not going to—”
“Exactly.” He gives me a smug look. “It’s my wedding, so you have to do what I say. Now, tell me why you’re up here talking with me and not down there with Wes.”
I open and close my mouth, hesitating. I really don’t want to dump my problems on the groom, but he’s gazing at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. And it’s not like Kyle doesn’t know about us, despite Weston’s intentions to keep things discreet.
At my hesitation, Kyle softens. “Do you remember that early morning I came into Joe’s last year, and you listened to me talk about what was going on with Violet?”
“Of course.”
“This is me returning the favor.” He smiles gently, and I sigh.
“Fine. Five minutes, then you go back downstairs.”
“Deal.” He clinks his glass to mine. “Now, go.”
I take a deep breath and begin, finding it surprisingly easy to spill everything to Kyle. I haven’t spoken to anyone about this, and the words come tumbling out. I tell him about meeting Weston at Joe’s over a year ago, slowly getting to know him, thinking he was married, getting together with Jess, things imploding with Jess, then eventually getting together with Wes. His encouragement for my photography, falling for him, then Jess discovering our relationship. My decision to step back, and how hard it’s been.
Kyle listens intently, cradling his glass, his face kind. When I finish, he exhales long and slow. “That’s… a lot.”
I nod, staring morosely into my glass.
“I understand why you want him to fix things with his son,” Kyle says. “But… you staying away from Wes isn’t making that happen. You can’t control what his son is going to do, how he’s going to feel.”
“I know,” I mumble.
“And you’re just hurting yourself in the process.”
He’s not wrong there, because this totally fucking hurts.
“Not only because you’re refusing to be with the person you love,” he continues, “but because you’re letting the guilt win.”
I glance up. Is that really what I’m doing?
“Trust me.” Kyle gives me a knowing look. “I did it myself when Rich found out about me and Vi. And really, there’s no point. Guilt is a useless emotion, especially when you’ve done all you can do. At that point, you need to forgive yourself.”
I blink at him. “Forgive myself?”
He nods. “Forgive yourself for being human, for making a mistake. Yes, Wes’s son moved out and won’t speak to him, but from what you’ve just told me, it sounds like their relationship was incredibly rocky before you came into the picture. If anything, Daisy, it sounds like you’re the one who helped them.”
I look down at my hands. That’s true, but…
“Anyway,” Kyle adds, “you’ve done your best to fix their relationship, but ultimately, it’s beyond your control. The only thing you can control is deciding to be with Wes, but you won’t allow it. It’s like you’re punishing yourself.”
My lips part in shock. Is he right? Am I staying away from Wes because I feel guilty, because I want to punish myself? I’m about to respond when Violet arrives at the top of the stairs.
“There you are!” Her gaze lands on me and Kyle, and her smile fades. “Why the long faces?”
Kyle looks at me, indicating that it’s up to me to explain, and I offer her a faint smile.
“Your husband is giving me some very sound relationship advice.”
Her lips curve in a dreamy smile. “ My husband . I love how that sounds.” She crosses the room and lowers herself onto Kyle’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking at me. “Is this about Wes? He’s like a lost puppy down there without you.”
Kyle chuckles, squeezing his bride. “That’s what I said.”
I gaze at my friends, my heart aching at how happy they look. I want that.
“I hope my husband was helpful,” Violet adds, giving Kyle a playful nudge.
“He was very helpful.” I rise to my feet. “Thanks, Kyle. You’ve given me plenty to think about.” Then I head downstairs, leaving the happy couple to steal a moment alone.
The party is in full swing when I reach the yard again, and no one seems to notice the bride and groom are missing. Instinctively, I lift my camera and wander around, capturing some candid shots of couples dancing, drinking, laughing. I try not to think about Kyle’s words as I work, but they ring through my head.
You’re punishing yourself.
You’re letting the guilt win.
You need to forgive yourself.
I finish my round of pictures and wander to the back of the yard, by the brick wall of a neighboring building that backs onto the section. Here, behind the magnolia tree, I can hide in the shadows to gather my thoughts.
When I spot a familiar silhouette in the darkness, I realize I’m not the only one looking for somewhere away from the crowd.
“Daisy.” Weston’s voice is quiet above the music, but even as my eyes adjust to the shadows, I can’t make out his expression.
“Oh.” My stomach flutters with nerves. “Hi. I didn’t see you there.”
He gives a deep, weighted sigh. “I just… needed a moment.”
I fiddle with the camera, my anxious fingers needing something to do.
“New camera,” he murmurs.
“Yeah. I wanted to get one of my own to, I don’t know, prove to myself I’m taking this seriously.”
“That’s…” There’s a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice has a raw edge to it. “That’s great.”
I swallow. “How’ve you been?”
He shoves his hands into his suit pockets. “Not great.”
My heart presses against my ribs. I’m reminded of the man who first came into Joe’s last year. The one who would barely look at me. The man who was broken.
“I tried to speak to Jess,” I blurt. “I went to his work, and we talked, but he’s still so angry. I tried…” I trail off helplessly.
Wes is quiet, and I strain my eyes, wishing I could see him more clearly, could read his face. I open my mouth to say… honestly, I don’t even know what, but he looks at me and asks, “Would you like to dance?”
It takes me completely by surprise. I should say no, because if he so much as touches me, I’ll crumble in his arms, but I don’t have the strength to be anything other than honest.
“Yes. I’d really like that.”
I can’t see his expression, but he turns for the dance floor, and I follow, my heart beating in my throat. Violet and Kyle are back outside, swaying closely to a slow, romantic song. I set the camera aside, catching Kyle’s eye as I join Wes on the dance floor, and he sends me a hopeful smile.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’ve been punishing myself, and it’s time to stop.
Weston looks uncertain when we face each other, but I step forward and slide my arms around his neck, so we’re closer. When his hands land on my waist, the nerves in my stomach settle, because this is where I’m meant to be. In Weston’s arms.
He draws me close as we sway, lowering his mouth beside my ear. “You look absolutely beautiful, Daisy. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you.”
His words make my pulse jump. “Thank you.” I run a hand down the front of his suit, tugging gently on the lapel. “You look good too.” That’s an understatement if there ever was one.
“I don’t feel good.” His thumbs draw gentle circles on my back, sending a shiver across my skin. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I miss you too much.”
I let out a shuddering breath. “Me too. It’s been… it’s been hard.”
He’s quiet as we move together, slowly drawing closer, until our chests are touching. My skin buzzes with electricity. My heart hurts.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and Wes draws back to look at me from under low brows.
“For what?”
“For leaving.”
He lifts a hand to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind my ear. “You don’t have to apologize. I know your heart is in the right place. You want me to be happy.”
I nod, my throat tight. “I really do.”
“But what you don’t realize is that I’m happiest when I’m with you.” His thumb brushes my cheek tenderly. “ You are the person who makes me happy.” He takes my face in both hands, his ocean-blue eyes searching mine. “I love you, Daisy.”
My breath catches in my lungs. “You do?”
“I do.” His eyes glisten in the light of the bulbs strung above the yard. “I never dreamed I could feel this way again, but I do, and I don’t want to lose what we have. I don’t want to lose you. I’ve lost enough.”
I press my eyes shut, his words piercing something in my chest. But it’s still there, that guilt, the knowledge that I drove his son away.
“But Jess—”
“Jess will do whatever he wants,” Wes says, lowering his hands to my waist again. “We can’t control that, and there’s no point in us being apart for his sake.”
“But…”
“No.” The sharp tone of Weston’s voice forces my gaze to his. “If you want to end this because you don’t want to be with me, I’ll respect that, and let you go.”
I open my mouth to protest because that is not and has never been the case.
“But if you’re only walking away because of my relationship with Jess,” Wes continues, “then I won’t let you.”
“But you need to—”
“ No ,” he repeats firmly, fingertips tightening on my waist. “You don’t get to throw this away because of my son. You don’t get to make that choice for me.”
I gaze at Wes, my eyes stinging. My heart is tight, wrung out at the expression on Wes’s face. At his refusal to give up on us.
“It’s not your fault,” he murmurs, thumbs caressing my waist again. “I know you blame yourself, but it’s not your fault. My relationship with Jess has been rocky for years. I should have been honest with him when he came back home, and I have to own that. I won’t let you keep beating yourself up.”
You’re punishing yourself.
You’re letting the guilt win.
You need to forgive yourself.
Tears spill from my eyes, and Weston’s thumb is there to brush them away in an instant.
“Do you love me, Daisy?”
“So much,” I whisper.
The relief in his gaze is like the first light of dawn after the longest night. Like finding land when you’re lost at sea.
“Then come home,” he says, his eyes moist. “Come home to me, baby.”
My heart caves in. I swallow, letting the word home wash over me, because it’s always felt like home at Weston’s house, and if he wants me there, then that’s where I’ll be.
“Okay,” I breathe, gripping the lapels of his suit jacket.
He doesn’t wait to lower his mouth to mine, and when our lips connect, everything else fades away. The music, the people…
“Wait.” I draw away, casting a furtive glance around the dance floor. “Are you sure we should do this here?”
Weston’s hands tighten on my back and pull me closer, his lips finding mine again, tongue sweeping hungrily into my mouth. “I want everyone to know you’re mine,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning across my lips. “I’m never going to hide what we have from anyone again.” Then he captures my mouth once more, and I sink into his kiss. His touch is a healing balm on my heart, and it only takes a few seconds before I ache to be alone with him, to make love to him, to make up for the time we’ve lost.
I glance around the dance floor only to find Violet and Kyle watching us with massive grins. My cheeks heat at the fact that I was openly making out with their neighbor at their wedding, but Violet dances our way.
“You can go if you like,” she whispers, winking. “We’ve got more than enough pictures.”
I blush even harder. “But—”
“I’m the bride,” Violet reminds me, “and I’m sending you home. Now.” She nudges me playfully, then spins away back to Kyle.
I glance back at Wes, who obviously heard every word.
“What do you say, babygirl?” He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Want to go home?”
This time, I don’t hesitate. “Yes, please.”
I grab my camera, and we pause to thank Violet and Kyle, before racing through their house, back to Weston’s. He struggles to get the key in the front door, mostly because he’s got one arm around me and his face nuzzled into my neck, but I don’t mind. It’s amazing to have him touch me like this, hold me close, out on the stoop where anyone could see us. Knowing he wants the real deal with me, wants everyone to know, makes my head spin. By the time we get up to his bedroom, I’m dizzy with the knowledge that this is really happening. I’m back here, and it’s right.
“I missed you,” I say between kisses, as Wes lays me back on the bed. His hands are everywhere at once: my hair, my face, my stomach, my breasts.
“I was going crazy without you, baby.” His mouth moves across my jaw, my neck, down to my chest, while his hand slides my dress up my thighs. “I missed the way you feel, the way you smell.” Then his eyes flick up to mine, dark and hungry, as he slides my panties down my legs. “The way you taste.”
His head disappears between my thighs, and a second later pleasure surges through me as his tongue finds my most sensitive spot.
“Fuck, babygirl,” he rasps, devouring me greedily. “You taste so good. Like you’re mine.”
“All yours,” I whimper in response, inching closer to my release, but I don’t get there because he rises to his feet, urgently unbuttoning his pants.
“I need to be inside you,” he says, eyes wild. “Now.” He shucks his pants and boxer briefs, then slips his suit jacket off, until he’s only in his shirt and tie, his erection straining toward me. When he starts to loosen the tie, I bat his hands away, taking hold of it and tugging him close.
“Leave this on. It’s sexy.” My hands find his cock and take hold of him, so hot and hard in my palm. I guide him to my entrance, already soaked with need for him, and when he thrusts hard into me, I throw my head back and moan.
We lie like that for a few beats, Weston buried to the hilt inside me, savoring the feel of us finally being one again. I can feel his heart drumming against mine, and tears blur my eyes. How could I have walked away from this man?
“I love you, Weston,” I whisper, and when he brings his gaze to mine, his eyes are wet too.
“Daisy…” He peppers kisses across my cheek. “I love you so much. I’m never letting you go, you got that?”
My heart fills my chest, pressing against my ribcage. “Good.” I hold him tighter. “Because I wouldn’t let you.”
He rolls us onto our sides, wrapping his arms around my back, holding me tight into his chest as we rock together, hands traversing each other’s skin, mouths fused. It only lasts a few more minutes before we both reach our breaking point, falling apart in each other’s arms. Then we lie there, clutching each other tight for what feels like an hour. When we finally part, Weston searches my eyes, his expression serious.
“I know it’s not good with Jess,” he murmurs, stroking my cheek, “and I can only hope that one day he’ll come around, but we can’t put our life on hold for him anymore. We can’t only be together when life is good. We need each other when it’s hard, too. I need you always.”
Always .
God, how did I get lucky enough to end up here, with this man?
“I need you always too,” I whisper, turning my face into his palm.
“I meant it when I told you to come home. I want you here with me, baby. I need you here.” He tilts my face back, so I meet his gaze as he swallows hard. “Will you move in with me? Make this house feel like a home again?”
I try to fight off the grin tugging at my mouth, but it’s hopeless because there is nothing I want more.
Snuggling in close, I bury my nose in his shirt, letting out the softest, happiest sigh.
“I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”