Fall For You: A Reverse Grump Romantic Comedy (A Season's Detour, Book 2)

by Hayleigh Sol

  “So, you’re probably hoping to have a long and happy marriage like your folks, right?”

  He shrugged. “If I meet the right person, yeah.”

  It was such a typically relaxed, unconcerned, male response. I envied him at the same time I found his lackadaisical approach to a question so many women obsessed over completely infuriating.

  With startling clarity, I realized I’d been a part of that relationship‌–‌obsessed group, albeit in the opposite camp to the majority of my sisters, for the last ten years or more. How had I let that happen? It suddenly felt like I’d dedicated way too many minutes and hours thinking about relationships and how to avoid them, and why everyone else should do the same.

  As if my way was the best and only way to live. As if I was above it all, better than other women who still bought into the myth of true love, because I knew the truth.

  How incredibly arrogant of me.

  Garrett was oblivious‌—‌another typically male trait‌—‌to my soul‌–‌shaking epiphany. He asked what I thought about haunted houses, of all things.

  “Oh, um, they’re pretty cool. Well, some of them. My friend, Maya, startles very easily and we used to drag her to a haunted house around Halloween every year in high school. She hated it, but she still went.” Maya had always been braver than she’d given herself credit for. I chuckled as I recalled a particularly inspired prank Lisette had pulled one year.

  “So the six of us are standing in a bunch, waiting to be let inside, and you can hear Maya giving herself a little pep talk under her breath. In between telling us how much she hates us, can’t believe we talked her into this, etcetera. She’s got herself all worked up and Emma’s telling her everything’s going to be fine, it’s all fake, she might even laugh at the people jumping out.” I still remembered the scowl on Maya’s face when Emma had tried to convince her that costumed ghouls jumping out at her was going to be fun.

  Garrett and I had both finished eating but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get going. He’d relaxed into his chair with a soft smile on his face as I talked about my friends. The fleeting and totally absurd thought that I wished he could meet them passed through my mind.

  I shook it off. “Somehow, unbeknownst to the rest of us, Lissette had talked to the guy at the door and, when he was going through the rules in this dark and foreboding voice, he said something about how the ghouls and demons inside weren’t allowed to make physical contact with anyone‌…‌unless their name was Maya.” Cracking up, I told Garrett her eyes had gone full‌–‌saucer, darting around as she sought her escape. The rest of us were in hysterics and, finally, she realized one of us had put the guy up to it.

  “Poor thing. Did she go through the haunted house?”

  “Bet your ass she did. I was so proud of my little chick. Although, the dude at the entrance must’ve gotten word back to his cronies and they started whispering her name as we stumbled through the dark. Scared the shit out of Maya, which made her run, then slam into me, which knocked both of us to the ground, and I broke my wrist.” I waved the previously injured forearm as Garrett made a sound that was part chuckle, part groan.

  “You probably weren’t even upset about the fracture, I bet.”

  “Well, it hurt like hell, but it wasn’t Maya’s fault. Or even Lisette’s. By the time we got out of there, on the way to the emergency room, we were all laughing so hard we were crying. Just like Emma predicted.”

  Garrett did that scrutinizing thing again until I shifted in my seat. “I think you’re a really good friend, Bailey. My sister’s lucky to have found you.”

  I tucked my hair behind my ear and reached for my water glass. “Oh, well, thanks. I’m lucky to have her, too.”

  “So this tough act you do‌…‌it’s all to hide your soft center, isn’t it.” He hadn’t voiced it as a question.

  He looked at me like he got me, like he truly saw through my grumpy act. It was a keener version of the look he’d given me at the beginning of breakfast, when I’d spilled my guts about dear old Dad. Or the one he’d leveled at me last night when I’d told him my stance on casual dating.

  I didn’t talk about my father with many people‌—‌like I’d said, it was a tale as old as time. And I was a big girl who’d learned to accept that we’d never go back to the relationship we had before he blew up the family. Something about Garrett, and the way he watched me like he knew everything there was to know about me and still wasn’t frightened off, well, it was unnerving.

  But, also, kind of‌…‌comforting?

  “It’s okay”‌—‌he reached out a hand and held onto mine on top of the table‌—‌“you don’t have to admit you’re a softie.” His thumb brushed back and forth over mine. “Speaking of, it’s very nice of you‌—‌and everyone else invited‌—‌to give up your Thanksgiving for my sister’s wedding.”

  I waved that away with my free hand, not quite willing to take back the one he was rubbing yet. “It’s no big deal, really. Mom and Dustin and I haven’t really celebrated it since Dad left. I’ve done a Friendsgivng for years now.”

  He nodded knowingly. I thought I detected a little too much understanding in his gaze. Sympathy could turn to pity far too quickly, to my way of thinking.

  Sliding my hand out from the warmth of his, I made a show of checking the time on my phone. “Wow, I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. I should get going, I’m supposed to meet my family this afternoon.”

  We’d taken my car and, when I dropped him off at his, I felt instantly awkward. All that sharing and soul‌–‌baring.

  Who needed it.

  “So‌…‌thanks for coming over last night.”

  “Thanks for asking.”

  “Thanks for breakfast, too.”

  “You’re welcome.” We stood next to his car but he made no move to open the door.

  What the heck was he doing? It was like he was waiting for something. A handshake, a high five for a job well done last night?

  His big hands went to my waist and he pulled until my feet settled between his. Eyes on mine, his head bent and he kissed me. His lips were soft, moving lazily over mine. Lulling me into a floaty, relaxed state that made me forget all about my awkwardness a moment ago. A nibble on my bottom lip as we separated and the kiss ended. Sweet with a hint of spicy.

  My favorite.

  I blinked my eyes open and had to take a moment to steady myself. “Okay, well‌…‌guess I’ll see you around.”

  Garrett laughed, kissed the tip of my nose, and told me he’d text me later.

  My mother and Lindsay wandered from one store to another, some of them meriting no more than a brief peering in the windows, others a more thorough interior inspection. Dustin was being a good sport about it, seemingly content to entertain himself with his phone while they browsed.

  For that matter, I was being a pretty good sport, too. I’d had three new client consultations this week, in addition to existing client appointments and all of that made for long days. In spite, or because of my day job, shopping wasn’t top of my list of favorite things to do in my downtime.

  When Mom and her best friend in retail therapy made a beeline for one of the higher end stores I’d never really been a fan of, Dustin and I dropped back several paces.

  “I couldn’t help but notice there’s no ring on Lindsay’s finger. Getting cold feet, big brother?”

  We sat on a bench facing the store that had swallowed up our companions. “Nope. In fact‌…‌” He scrolled on his phone, then tilted the screen toward me. “I’ve narrowed it down to these three and I was hoping you’d help me choose.”

  He’d done well, I had to give him credit. Talking over the points of each, we ruled one out so he was now down to two; I had a pretty good idea which he’d choose but I told him Lindsay would probably love either. Having known and spent time with her for a while, I thought I had a decent grasp on her style and personality.

  “So you’re really going to do it? After all this tim
e? One woman for the rest of your life and all that.”

  “Yep. I’ve got a whole thing planned out for the weekend after we get home.”

  My eyebrows lifted, chin retracting in surprise. “Wow, I didn’t realize this was happening so soon.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “We’ve been together for most of the last decade. That’s soon?”

  “You have a point. Frankly, I’m surprised Lindsay stuck around this long. Your apartment back in college was disgusting enough to make any sane woman run screaming. The smell alone‌…‌” I shuddered; it was only a slight exaggeration.

  “Lindsay has been a very good influence on me. I even do dishes the same day we use them now.”

  Grinning and making impressed eyes at him, I nodded. “Well, wonders never cease. I had you pegged as a lifelong bachelor.” Like me. “Mothers would point and warn their daughters to stay away from ‘that creepy old guy’ down the street.”

  Dustin knocked his shoulder against mine. “Hey, c’mon now. I was never ‘creepy’. I just didn’t see the point in getting married. It’s not the 1920s anymore.”

  “Amen to that.” And thank God I’d been born in a time that suited my independent, self‌–‌sufficient nature. “But hey, if that’s true, what made you change your mind? Lindsay seemed fine with the status quo. Or was she not?”

  “I don’t know if it was any one thing. It just feels right. And I think she feels the same way.”

  Part of me wondered if she’d been employing those “subtle” ways women had of hinting they were ready and waiting for a proposal. But maybe that was unfair. When they’d started dating years ago, I’d been set to dislike Lindsay, but she’d gradually won me over.

  “Have you two ever talked about the way you got together? Is she worried about history repeating itself?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Hm, this was tough. I had to try not to sound too judgmental, even though I’d resented him for a long time on this. “You know, you cheated on your girlfriend with her. And wasn’t she kind of with some other dude at the time, too?”

  Dustin scowled and shook his head. “That’s not what happened.”

  “Uh, yeah it is. You told me, remember?”

  “I remember telling you I’d met this girl I really liked and that I didn’t think things would last much longer with whoever I was seeing back then. And I remember you getting pissed and telling me off for being a cheater asshole like Dad, then hanging up and refusing to talk to me for, like, months afterward.”

  “Well, I mean, can you really blame me?”

  He huffed an annoyed breath. “Yeah, because I didn’t cheat on that girl. You just assumed I had. Lindsay and I both ended things with the other people we were seeing and then we went out.”

  My face must’ve registered the what‌–‌the‌–‌fuck moment I was having. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “You mean when you wouldn’t talk to me? I guess I was pissed that you thought that of me. So I let you keep thinking it. We all know how stubborn you can be.”

  “You should’ve told me, bro.”

  “I shouldn’t have had to, Bay. How could you think I’d do that to someone after Dad?”

  The look on his face was disappointed, almost‌…‌hurt.

  Great, the second guy I’ve offended in the last two months by falsely accusing him of cheating. I was on a real roll here.

  “I’m sorry, D. That was”‌—‌I swallowed hard, remembering‌—‌“a really tough time for me, the first few years after Dad vanished. I figured cheating was genetic, especially among the men in our family.” He frowned at me like I was an idiot. “Of course, Lisette informed me that infidelity is not an inheritable trait.”

  Letting out a sigh, I looked away, people‌–‌watching for a minute. I’d really looked up to my brother when we were growing up, even if he was so often obnoxious to his little sister. Having him let me down so soon after my father had, in the exact same way, had shaken me. At the time, I’d been so grateful to have Aaron to lean on.

  What a joke. I really was an idiot.

  “Hey, Bay‌–‌leaf.” My head turned back to the man I’d condemned to asshole status like his father. “It’s okay.” He put his phone down and pulled me into a big‌–‌brother bear hug. As he patted my back, I relaxed into him in a way I hadn’t done in so many years. It felt like little pieces of my heart came back and I fought the urge to cry. He gave me one last squeeze before releasing me. “We’re okay.”

  I sniffled‌—‌allergies, probably‌—‌and asked him what we should do for dinner tonight. Emotional epiphany, sibling bonding over.

  “Well, I don’t know if we’ll be able to find anything that lives up to what we had last night.” His head tilted and he looked down his nose at me. “You said you’re friends with that chef, huh?”

  “Oh, no. Uh‌–‌uh. I know that look.”

  “What look?”

  “The overprotective big brother sticking his nose in my business. You frightened every guy for miles back in high school with that crap. They wouldn’t even talk to me, let alone ask me out.” Except Aaron. I wished Dustin had been a little more terrifying with his teammate and buddy. Might’ve saved me years of trouble and heartache.

  “So this Garrett isn’t just a friend, then?”

  “There might’ve been some “with benefits” in there.”

  “Uggh, gross, don’t tell me that about my kid sister.”

  “Your kid sister is thirty‌–‌two and, I hate to break it to you, but definitely not a virgin.”

  For several satisfying seconds, I relished the nauseated look on his face. Until he shook it off and continued the interrogation.

  “He seemed like a nice guy.” I shrugged. “Is he not a nice guy? Do I need to talk to him?”

  That made me laugh. “Jesus, Jason Statham, ease up. Yes, Garrett has, so far, been a nice guy. And his sister is a very good friend of mine who would probably kick his ass if he was a dick to women. So you don’t need to worry about your own adult sister in this situation.”

  “Is he your boyfriend then, or what?”

  “Have you been with the same woman for so long that you’ve actually forgotten what ‘friends with benefits’ means?”

  The side‌–‌eye of exasperated older brothers everywhere hit me. “No, and stop using that term. It just seems weird that he’d invite your family to his restaurant, and make a special meal for them, if you’re nothing more than friends.”

  I opened my mouth to correct him, but he must’ve seen the wicked gleam in my eye. “With‌—‌”

  “Don’t say it.” Gusty sigh. “I’m‌…‌I’m worried about you, kiddo. When was the last time you had anything remotely serious with somebody?” He didn’t expect an answer, he knew. “Aaron the asshole.” His jaw clenched briefly before he took a deep breath. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life‌—‌”

  “Good. Just like I didn’t tell you what a colossal mistake you’re making letting Dad back into yours‌—‌”

  “But I can’t stand on the sidelines and say nothing.” My arms folded over my chest and I raised an eyebrow at him. Go on, then. “No need for that pissy look. This isn’t gonna turn this into one of those sappy moments like in the Christmas movies Lindsay loves where Santa gets some corporate asshole to embrace the spirit of the season and save the cute little town he was originally trying to bankrupt. Or some crap like that.”

  I had to laugh at his accurate description of the common trope.

  “You’re my sister and I want you to be happy. So I’m just going to say this: Dad screwed up. In a big way, and maybe you won’t ever forgive him for that. I’m not saying you need to. And then Aaron dicked you around and broke your heart. That asshole doesn’t deserve to still be breathing, if you ask me.”

  I half‌–‌smiled at my tough‌–‌talking big brother. Intimidating potential suitors he was awesome at. But that usually consisted of fearsome gloweri
ng and the occasional verbal warning to steer clear of his sister. He would never have actually gotten into a scuffle with my ex, never would’ve done anything that might land him in jail and screw up his own life.

  “The point is, don’t do what I did for so long, keeping Lindsay at a distance I thought was safe. One that would protect me from getting hurt. Don’t be so closed off to meeting someone special, to giving them a real chance, that you run the risk of becoming a miserable old bastard, alone and not trusting anyone.”

  Every fiber of my being wanted to make a joke, to tease him about his Oprah moment. To yank the spotlight off of me. But his eyes were too serious. Too concerned, too caring.

  I swallowed past the obstruction in my throat, but my voice was a strained whisper anyway. “I don’t know if I can change, D. Even if I wanted to.”

  “Of course you can, Bay‌–‌leaf. You can do anything. Don’t you know that?”

  Chapter 14

  Tracie’s dress was ready and we met at the bridal boutique for a fitting. When I asked if she’d wanted to bring her mom, she looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.

  “Remember the original poem Mom thought it’d be wonderful to have my cousin recite during the ceremony?”

  Boy, did I. Tracie had sent a warning text that she’d shared my email address with her mother so I could be the one to diplomatically say hell no to cousin Cindy’s terrible verse. Mrs. Newberg had sent email after email with sample poems. The woman was nothing if not earnest.

  I wondered why Tracie was so opposed to the idea when there seemed to be such an impressive volume to choose from. Until I’d started reading.

  Cousin Cindy had one helluva dark side.

  For some reason, Tracie’s mom had thought it’d be a nice touch to include a recitation of five stanzas on the futility of living in a money‌–‌obsessed society, or some other equally cheery topic, at her daughter’s wedding. After I’d gently pointed out how the themes of several poems might not be the best way to celebrate a marriage, it became very clear that Mama Newberg hadn’t understood what any of them were about.