Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3)

by Tara Wyatt

  Lucian shrugged and then pulled off his plain white T-shirt and began wrapping his hands with the supplies on the table just outside the ring. “I called in a favor and got her fired.” He shrugged again. “And made sure that no other self-respecting news outlet would want to hire her.”

  Max stared at his brother, gratitude making some of the tension ease out of his aching muscles. Lucian had been more of a father to him than their actual father ever had, and he shuddered to think just how bad things would’ve been if Lucian and Aerin hadn’t tried their best to shelter the younger ones from the worst of the damage.

  “Thank you,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  Lucian pulled on the boxing gloves and fastened them with Hudson’s help. “Yes, I did. No one fucks with my family and gets away with it. That’s the way it’s always been, and for as long as I’m breathing, that’s the way it’ll be.”

  He ducked between the ropes and stepped into the ring, patting Noah on the shoulder. “Take a break. I’d like to punch my brother now.” Noah nodded and stepped between the ropes, accepting a towel and water from Hudson.

  Before he had a chance to react, Lucian punched him in the face with a blistering right hook. “That’s for hurting Willa, you jackass,” he said. He landed a hard blow to Max’s stomach. “That’s for not letting all of this bullshit guilt go years ago.” Then he punched him in the face again, sending Max stumbling back against the ropes, his ears ringing. Even though Lucian was an inch taller than him—6’3 to Max’s 6’2—Max was bigger than him. He was thicker, broader and bulkier and had probably a good twenty pounds on Lucian.

  But holy fuck, was Lucian strong. Three punches and even with the boxing gloves on, Max knew he’d be feeling them for days.

  Lucian circled him, sizing him up. “Why are all my brothers so fucking stupid when it comes to their women? First Theo, who took ten fucking years to wake up to the fact that he was in love with Lauren, then Sebastian, who almost threw away what he had with Kayla because of who he’d once been, and now you, lying to the woman you’re clearly in love with to protect some secret from the past that’s long past its expiration date.”

  “I know. I know! What do you want me to say, Lucian?” He held his arms out at his sides, not caring if Lucian hit him again. Not caring if he pummeled him unconscious. “I fucked up. The damage is done. I don’t know how to fix it.”

  Hudson moved closer to the ring, the stark overhead lights catching his dark blond hair. He rubbed a hand over his mouth, his beard bristling against his fingers. “Well, you talked to her, right?”

  Max nodded. “I apologized.”

  Hudson shook his head. “No, I mean you told her what happened with Sophia, right? Told her all of it, the entire story?”

  Max frowned. “Well…no.” Then he shook his head. “Everything was in the article, right there in black and white.”

  “I think she needs to hear it from you,” said Hudson, his eyes locked on Max. “At least give her that. You said that you don’t know how to fix it. Your unwillingness to let her in and show her your scars, as ugly as you think they might be, is what got you here in the first place. So you’ve gotta show her that you can do better. She might still decide that she can’t get past it, but I think you owe her some actual honesty.”

  Everything inside Max went still as Hudson’s words sunk in. He was right. He hadn’t told Willa the truth. He’d apologized and tried to make her see why he’d lied. He hadn’t owned the story. Hadn’t told her his version. Hadn’t let her in. Hadn’t showed her that he trusted her and that he felt safe being vulnerable with her, as she’d done with him. He’d pushed her away with the lie and further away by trying to make her see that the lie had been necessary.

  “You’re a smart man, Hudson,” he said to his cousin.

  Hudson grinned. “I know.”

  21

  Rain beat against the windows, an early summer storm drenching the city as Willa sat curled up on the couch with a book and a cup of tea. She’d started a new one, not able to finish reading the one she’d borrowed from Max, even though she’d been enjoying it. Dori was at work and Willa was just…adrift. She didn’t know if she’d be able to stay at Tapp after the damage her reputation had suffered, even though the article had been retracted. But if she left, where would she go? She liked her job. She didn’t want to leave.

  God, everything was such a mess. Her career. Her heart. Her life.

  A knock at the apartment door startled her, sending her heart vaulting into her throat. A simple knock on the door was how the home invasion had started three months ago. With her pulse pounding in her ears, she set her book aside and then crept to the door on silent feet, arching up onto her tiptoes to look through the peephole.

  The rhythm of her heart changed at who she saw standing in the hallway, morphing from something panicked and too fast to something fluttery and nervous.

  She unlocked the door and opened it, and at the sight of Max, only a couple feet away, her entire body came to life. Warmth cascaded through her, her limbs tingling, her entire body feeling lighter than in had in days.

  It had been a week since she’d asked him for space and he’d respected her request. And for a week, all she’d done was miss him. Hurt for him.

  “Hey,” he said quietly, and as she zeroed in on his face…God, he looked awful. Dark circles stood out beneath his eyes and his skin was pale. More stubble than she was used to seeing on him clung to his jaw. He wore dark jeans and a blue T-shirt and everything about him just looked tired. Tired and sad and she had to clench her hands into fists so she wouldn’t pull him into her arms. “Can we talk?”

  She nodded and stepped aside to let him in, then closed and locked the door behind him. He walked into the living room and sat down on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped between his legs, his posture reminding her of when he’d been here a week ago. She wondered if he was here to give her more of the same. More apologies. More excuses.

  “Do you—” She broke off and cleared her throat when her voice came out sounding rusty. “Do you want something to drink? Some water, or…”

  He shook his head. “No, thanks.” He sighed and met her eyes. “I know you asked for space, but I realized that I owe you the truth. Last time we talked I apologized and tried to make you see why I’d done it, but I never just…told you. The story.”

  She held her breath, her stomach fluttering as she sat down on the couch beside him. If he was really here to own his past and be honest with her, if he was really going to let her in, maybe there was hope for them.

  “Okay,” she said, taking one of his hands between hers. At the contact, something that had been adrift inside her settled back into place, like a puzzle piece. “I’m listening.”

  He blew out a breath and then started talking. “Eight years ago, I was dating Sophia. We’d been together for about a year—we met at a charity event—and we went on vacation with two other couples we were friends with. Well, that she was friends with. I’ve never been good with people and friends. We rented a yacht in the Hamptons and it was just supposed to be a fun long weekend.”

  He swallowed and glanced away. “More and more, Sophia had kept hinting that she wanted to get engaged. She’d drop hints about rings or weddings, mentioning that we’d been dating for a year, which was true, we had. And every single time, I told her that I never planned to get married. To me, the concept of marriage was completely tainted and I had no desire to ever marry anyone. She kept bringing it up and I kept shutting it down. I know now that part of the reason was that I wasn’t in love with her. I cared about her and we had fun together, but there wasn’t a deeper connection there.” He returned his gaze to her. “Not like with you.”

  She swallowed hard, her thoughts spinning as she absorbed what he was saying.

  “That weekend, she wouldn’t let it go and we ended up fighting. I asked her to drop it, and she wouldn’t. She wanted to know why I wouldn’t marry her, what was wrong with he
r. Didn’t I love her?” He shook his head. “And there was nothing wrong with her. She was beautiful and smart and kind. At the time, I thought that I didn’t love her because I was broken. Because I didn’t know how to love someone. That I was too damaged.”

  “Oh, Max,” she said softly, squeezing his hand, her heart breaking for him.

  “She only wanted to be loved, and I couldn’t give that to her. The fight ended with an ultimatum: if I didn’t propose to her by the end of the summer, she was going to break up with me. And I told her that she shouldn’t waste her summer waiting for something that was never going to happen. I broke her heart.” He sucked in a breath. “And then, when she was upset, she went swimming and she drowned. And for a long, long time, I believed that that was my fault. If I hadn’t been so broken, if I’d been able to love her the way she deserved, she wouldn’t have died.” His voice was hollow. “I’ve spent the past eight years believing that her death was my fault.”

  Unable to hold herself back, she moved closer and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. She couldn’t fathom the guilt and the pain that he’d carried for so many years over what was nothing more than a tragic accident.

  “And for years, I hung onto that,” he said, pulling her against his chest and settling back against the couch. “I didn’t date. I kept to myself, terrified that I’d hurt someone again. And then you came along.”

  He slipped his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to his. “From the moment I saw you, I knew you were special. I had this visceral reaction to you. I can’t fully explain it. But I was drawn to you, and that scared me because I didn’t trust myself not to hurt you. That was why I pushed you away after the home invasion.” He swallowed and she snuggled into him, pain throbbing in her chest for what he’d been through. For the hurt and guilt and blame he’d carried for all of these years. “I wanted to be with you more than anything, but I felt like I had to protect you from who I was—this monster who didn’t know how to love people, only hurt them. That night when you found me with the necklace, I was reminding myself of all of that. I lashed out at you because I was ashamed.”

  “But then you found out that I was Fresh Princess,” she said softly around the lump in her throat. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

  “And I knew I couldn’t stay away from you. But I swore I’d do whatever it took to keep you from getting hurt. To protect you from my scars. I convinced myself that hiding this part of my past from you was something noble, but it wasn’t. I was scared, Willa.”

  “Of what?”

  “Scared that I’d show you my scars and it would send you running. That I’d lose you over who I’d been, even though being with you showed me the man I want to be. The man I could be, with you. And I was terrified to lose you.” He looked down at her, his heart in his eyes. “Because I know that you’re the love of my life. I know it in my bones. And if I lost you…” He broke off, scrubbing a hand over his face.

  She held him tighter, able to see what talking about this was costing him. It probably would’ve been easier for him to take a knife and cut himself open. Yet here he was, giving her this gift of openness and vulnerability.

  He gently eased her out of his arms and sat up. “Anyway. That’s all I came here to say. I wanted to tell you the truth.”

  His eyes met hers and right then, she knew that was going to love Max Prescott for the rest of her life. Here he was, showing her that while it wasn’t easy for him, he could give her the openness she needed. He was trying, even though it was hurting him to do it. He was sacrificing his own comfort for hers. And while he wasn’t perfect, the fact that he’d come over to give her this, to be vulnerable and honest, meant a hell of a lot.

  She reached out a trembling hand, laying her fingers on his scratchy cheek. “I forgive you,” she whispered. “I forgive you, Max.”

  His eyebrows rose and she saw the hope lighting him up from within. His chest rose and feel as he took a deep breath. “You do?”

  She nodded. “But I have a condition.”

  He nodded. “Name it.”

  “I want you to try to forgive yourself for what happened to Sophia. I want you to try to let go of the guilt and the pain. Because you’re not a monster. You’re not broken. And you’re not incapable of love. I know that because no one has ever loved me as big and bright as you do. No one.”

  He licked his lips and then nodded. “I promise that I’ll try. For you, angel, I’ll do anything.”

  She threaded her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. “Thank you for letting me in,” she whispered, then pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly. He moaned and slid his hands around her waist, but then broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers.

  “So we’re okay?” he asked, his voice quiet and reverent, like a prayer.

  “Yeah. We’re okay.” She kissed him again. “More than okay. I love you, Max. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. We’re so much more than okay.”

  “Thank fucking God,” he said, a genuine smile breaking out across his face, and he brought his mouth back to hers, the kiss deeper and hungrier this time. “I love you, Willa. So damn much.” And then he kissed her again.

  It was a kiss that felt like coming home, and Willa knew that her home would be with Max for the rest of her life.

  She didn’t need an app to tell her that he was her perfect match. She knew it in her heart.

  THE END

  Thank you so much for reading Max and Willa’s story. I had a lot of fun writing this one and I truly hope you enjoyed it. If you’re not ready to say goodbye to Max and Willa yet, I have good news for you. There’s a bonus epilogue! It involves Max and Willa, a surprise trip to Paris, and quite possibly that ring he bought…To get access to this bonus content, all you have to do is sign up for my newsletter (if you’re already a subscriber, don’t worry, you’ll get a link where you can download this bonus content). Click here to subscribe! And keep reading for a peek at what’s next for the Prescott brothers (hint: it’s finally Lucian’s turn!)

  Two Weeks Later

  Lucian Prescott didn’t think he’d ever held a baby before, aside from his youngest siblings. He wracked his brain, trying to recall a time in his life when he would’ve, but he came up empty. Staring down at the tiny pink bundle in his arms, he couldn’t help but feel as though he were sullying the perfect little girl just by touching her. Hands like his—hands that inflicted pain, that took away that which was precious—were far too dirty for something so pure and pristine as a baby.

  And yet.

  With his newborn baby niece Isabella in his arms, something visceral passed through him. Something wholly unexpected that made him close his eyes and breathe in her soft, sweet new baby smell. He glanced over at his sister Aerin, nestled into the other corner of the couch, Isabella’s twin Arianna sleeping in her arms. Aerin’s husband Javi hovered nearby, a burp cloth tossed over one shoulder.

  Five days ago, the surrogate that Aerin and Javi had used had given birth to two perfectly healthy baby girls and everyone—Theo and Lauren, Sebastian and Kayla, Max and Willa, and Lucian—had converged on Dallas, eager to meet the first in the next generation of Prescotts. For a while, Lucian had thought that Bella and Ari, as they were already being called, would likely be the only members of the next generation, but after the way things had unfolded over the past several months, he wasn’t willing to take that bet anymore.

  Theo and Lauren were engaged and getting married next year. He had no doubt that Sebastian and Kayla and Max and Willa wouldn’t be far behind. There would be weddings and babies in the future, and knowing that felt like knowing that flowers would bloom in what had once been toxic soil.

  Aerin shot him a smile, her eyes tired but her body relaxed and happy. Returning the smile, he looked back down at tiny little Bella, his heart twisting at the knowledge that he would never have this. His life was messy and dangerous and complicated, and however his story ended, he wouldn’t go down as the hero. He was a villain,
and villains didn’t get to live happily ever after. That wasn’t how the world worked.

  Besides that, he was forty-four years old. The baby ship had sailed long ago. If it had ever even existed for him. But it existed for the rest of his family, and that was good enough. More than good enough.

  He’d spent his life looking out for them. Protecting them and bailing their idiotic asses out time and again, and it hadn’t always been easy. It hadn’t always been painless. Some of the things he’d done had cost him little pieces of his soul that he knew he’d never get back. But for them, he’d do it again. Over and over. Until there was nothing left.

  “Who wants a turn?” he asked, glancing around the room at the rest of his family. Willa and Max sat together on the couch across from him, her legs over his lap, Max staring at her as though she were the most remarkable thing he’d ever seen. Kayla and Sebastian stood near Aerin, cooing over Ari.

  “Can I?” asked Lauren, stepping forward, her face bright and eager. Aerin nodded and after Lauren had cleaned her hands, Lucian carefully passed the bundle to Lauren, letting her have his vacated seat.

  God, the look on Theo’s face as he watched Lauren hold little Bella…What would it be like, to feel that kind of love? That kind of devotion? He envied his brothers and what they’d found, all while knowing that it wasn’t meant for him. He’d chosen a different path a long time ago, and there was no getting off it now.

  As if she could hear his thoughts, Aerin’s eyes locked on him, her head cocked. She passed Ari to Sebastian and then stood and stretched. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, there were dark circles beneath her eyes, and she was wearing an old Dallas Longhorns T-shirt with not one but two spit up stains on it.

  She’d never looked happier.

  “You okay?” she mouthed, her eyes narrowing.

  He nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets, but apparently Aerin wasn’t the only one who’d taken notice of his reaction to holding the baby.