Not So Charming: A Hate to Lovers Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 1)

by Fabiola Francisco

  I hate thinking about my mom in that way, but it’s obvious my sperm donor only wanted one thing from her. Bastard.

  When Miles tips my head back and kisses away the tears, I let him. When his lips touch mine, I don’t argue. I let him do what he wants, soaking up each moment because I’m certain it’ll be the last time I feel him this way. There’s too much twisted shit between us, too much resentment and guilt for this to work.

  All along, I could’ve at least known who my father was, seen pictures of him, been able to see what parts of me are his. Not that he gave a shit, but at least I would’ve known him in some sense.

  Miles is slow and sensual, taking his time to pleasure me, and I block out all thoughts but the way he makes me feel—full and cared for. I’m at war with myself, battling the polarities that reside inside of me.

  If this is the last time I have him to myself, then I’m going to enjoy it. I’m going to touch and kiss and feel, take all I can.

  As Miles holds me, half asleep, he mumbles, “I love you, Junebug,” and I crack beyond repair. A fresh wave of tears hits me, and my thoughts begin to race again as his words run a loop through my mind. I know I can’t stay. It wouldn’t be fair to him or me.

  Chapter 28

  Miles

  I stir awake, reaching my arm out on the bed, feeling around but not finding the warm body I want to wrap myself around…again. A wide yawn takes over, and I peel my eyes open, listening for any sign of the beauty that’s stolen my heart. Last night was a doozy, but I’m glad I told June the truth.

  Sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I look around.

  “June…” I call out.

  My eyes bounce around the room, but there’s no sign of her. Maybe she’s making coffee. I stand, stretching my naked body, and head to the bathroom. After doing my business, I grip the countertop and stare at myself in the mirror.

  Any heaviness I’ve felt recently has dissipated. Scratching my scruff, I head back to the room and wait for my girl. When I sit on the edge of the bed and bend to grab my boxer briefs, something on the nightstand next to me catches my eye.

  I pick up the scrap of paper and read the hurriedly scrawled words on it. My heart drops to my stomach, and suddenly I feel worse than if I had woken up with a killer hangover from college but at the age of forty.

  I’m sorry. I can’t. Don’t hate me.

  - J

  That’s all it says. My fist tightens around the paper, crumbling it, but that won’t stop the pain in my chest. If only I could crumble my heart like that so it won’t feel. No, she already crumbled it for me, and it’s the most excruciating pain I’ve ever felt.

  Rushing to get dressed, I skip a shower and wearing a pressed suit, and jump in my car. I stalk up to her front door, knocking and calling her name. Scarlett’s car isn’t here, so she must’ve already left for work, which means I don’t have an ally to answer the door in case June won’t.

  When I get silence, I knock louder.

  “June, open up!” Nothing. “Come on, talk to me.” I rattle the door, but the silence remains. I punch the wall beside the door and storm back to my car, calling her nonstop and leaving messages as I drive to work. I couldn’t give three shits if I look like crap. I need to talk to my father immediately.

  When I walk into the winery, Brett’s eyes widen. “What the hell is going on?” He crosses his arms.

  “Where’s Dad? I need to talk to him.” I walk around Brett, but he grabs my arm and stops me.

  “He’s not here. We have a meeting today for the conference next month. Your breath stinks. Go back home, take a damn shower and brush your teeth, put on a suit, and come back before ten. I need you here while we’re away.”

  I forgot they had that today. I comb my my fingers through my hair and glare at my brother. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to obey.

  “You also offered to pick up the girls and bring them back here,” he reminds me.

  I sigh and walk away, heading back home, but I continue to call June. It’s a futile attempt. She’s shutting me out. I knew telling her the truth would be difficult, but she needed to know what I learned. I just want her to know that whatever doubts she has are silly. We’re happy together, and nothing—past nor present—should impose on that.

  I’m a zombie as I shower and get dressed. The messy sheets on my bed steal my breath, and the crumpled note is even more proof of the constricting pain piercing my chest. I’m gonna fight hard to prove to her that we’re right for each other. I can’t let this be the end.

  Once I’m back at work, I take care of what Brett needs before checking in with the different departments. I purposefully leave the tasting room for last to give June time to arrive if she comes into work. When I walk in, I catch Carla looking at the computer screen.

  “Hey, is June in yet?” I try for as casual as possible.

  “No, she told me she spoke to you. She’s sick and can’t come in.”

  “Oh, yeah…that’s right.”

  Carla eyes me suspiciously. “Anyway, we’ve got two tours today, so any chance you could cover one? They overlap a bit, and someone needs to be here in the tasting room.”

  “Yeah, of course. Anything you need.” Fuck me, I’m back to square one but with a broken heart. I robotically go through the motions. My mood is snippy despite trying to control it. To say that I’m less than pleasant to be around today is an understatement.

  When I have another break, I call June again, but it goes straight to voicemail. I’m desperate by the time I pick up Charlie and Chloe from summer camp, but I don’t have time to pass by June’s house. It’s a shit day for my dad and brother to have a meeting in the city.

  Despite their efforts to talk to me, I zone out Charlie and Chloe’s chatter and sit them at a corner table in the tasting room. I check in with the staff then return to help Carla.

  I’m crawling out of my skin, the day going slow as fuck. I check my phone every few seconds. I need to talk to June and make her see reason.

  When my phone rings, I grab it out of my pocket, fumbling with it in desperation to answer. I see my mom’s name flashing on the screen and sigh, letting Carla know I’ll be right back.

  “Hello?” I lean against the wall outside, the heat stifling me.

  “Miles, what’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?” I’m hyper-alert to her worry.

  “With June. Scarlett told me she couldn’t come to work today, that something had happened between you two.”

  I close my eyes and sigh. My jaw tightens with frustration. So when Scarlett’s car wasn’t in their driveway, it wasn’t because she was at work.

  I tell my mom everything, a hint of blame and resentment in my voice. I shouldn’t have to pay for their past. I shouldn’t have to give up my happiness because my dad feels guilty that his friend abandoned Scarlett.

  “Miles…” my mom sighs sadly. “I’m so sorry. I never thought that would affect you like this.”

  “Well, June begs to differ. Apparently, she can’t be with me because of this. If she’d talk to me, I’d be able to understand her reasoning better. Instead, I got an ambiguous note and ignored phone calls.” I rub my eyes, heavy emotions rolling through me.

  “I’m sorry,” she says again.

  “Whatever, Mom. I gotta go. I’m helping Carla since we’re understaffed, and Dad and Brett are at that meeting today. It’s chaos here, and I’ve got the girls.”

  “I’ll pick them up,” she offers quickly.

  “Nah, Brett’s coming back and will get them here. If you pick them up, they’ll think he’s ditching them for work again.”

  “Okay, call if you need anything.”

  “Yeah, bye.” I hang up, pocketing my phone and taking a cleansing breath. I’m not sure any help she provides will be enough to cure this heartache.

  Chapter 29

  June

  I lean against the wall, crying into my knees since Miles was banging on the door. He must’ve
woken up to my note, but I couldn’t stay another minute longer with the tsunami of thoughts drowning me. I mentally begged him to leave and let it be. It’s best this way; let go before we get any deeper. They say love grows by the day, and our love is still early, so we can heal faster from it. It’s all a lie I tell myself.

  When the door opens, I jolt and hold my breath.

  “June,” my mom calls out, and I release the trapped air.

  “Come on, sweetie. You can’t be like this. Tell me what happened.” She walks into the living room carrying a container with two coffee cups and a bag. I stand from my crouched position, stretching my sore muscles and joints, and shake my head.

  When my mom saw me crying this morning, she told Mrs. Carlisle she couldn’t go to work and demanded I tell her what was wrong. I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t add more to her plate, stir up her past. The way she’s looking at me now tells me she won’t let it go, though.

  I grab the offered coffee cup and take a drink, scalding my tongue. It hurts less than the hole in my chest, though. The echoes of Miles calling my name are still on replay in my head, but I couldn’t open the door for him, couldn’t face him.

  When he told me he loved me… God, my heart splintered. I wonder if he even remembers saying it or if it was a sleep-induced confession. Regardless, the words were there, and if I’m being honest, I feel the same. Yet, so much shit surrounds us. So much baggage that’s not even ours to carry.

  My mom rips open the paper bag, revealing two sour cream donuts.

  “Now, you can have one of these donuts after you tell me what happened.” I stare at her wide-eyed. Is she seriously bribing me?

  “Mom, I don’t want you involved.”

  “Too bad, sweetie, I’m already involved.” If she only knew how much…

  Giving in, I tell her what happened. I explain what Miles told me about my father and my mom’s relationship with the Carlisles. It makes sense why she always defended them to me so fiercely. Maybe she thought if I found out about this, I’d hate them.

  I take a deep breath, finishing the story with Miles’s mumbled declaration. “He told me he loved me, and that was the last straw. How could we make it work when there are so many odd twists tying us together?” I shake my head.

  “June…” my mom sighs. “Sweetheart, the fact that Nathaniel introduced me to your father isn’t important.” She reaches for my hand and smiles.

  “How can you say that?” I’ve always felt that my mom wished my dad were around, and she never got over him. How is that not important?

  “I wouldn’t have you had things been different, and I love you more than anything. I can’t imagine having another daughter.”

  “Mom…” I whine.

  “It’s true. You’re my life, my most important purpose in this world. I’m sorry I never told you all the details, but you were already so resentful of people in this town by the time you were old enough to know all about it that I didn’t want to add more of that hate in your heart. No one is responsible for how your father acted but him.” Her gaze pierces mine.

  “Do you hear me? Not you, not Nathaniel or Sarah. And most definitely not the young man who’s fallen in love with you. It isn’t fair to him. You two make each other happy. Why give that up? You have a chance to do things differently than me, choose that,” she whispers this last part, tears in her eyes.

  I sag and hug her. “Momma…” I run my hand down her back. “I’ve already told you that you aren’t too old to find someone who loves you. You just need to open your heart up again.”

  “Look who’s talkin’,” she lets out a watery chuckle.

  I lean back and look at my mom. “Why is life so complicated? I feel like we’re meant to be nothing more than second class citizens to the Carlisles.”

  “Oh, please!” My mom’s eyes widen with fiery passion. “First of all, Nathaniel and Sarah are normal people like us. It just so happens that he was great at football and got drafted into the NFL. Besides that huge house, because they invested their money wisely, they’re just like us.

  “They wanted to leave something for their kids that would allow them stability if they ever needed it, which is why he created the winery. Nathaniel saw how quickly a career can slip away with his injury. Madison doesn’t need it, but she has the winery if it ever came it that. The boys do, and they were able to make their careers around it. We aren’t second to anyone. We aren’t wealthy by any means, but I’ve worked by behind off so we could have this house and the things we need. However, the money in your bank account isn’t a true show of character.” Her hand squeezes mine.

  “My dad… He could’ve at least given you financial security for me.”

  She shakes her head adamantly. “I wasn’t going to force anyone into being in our lives—physically, emotionally, or financially. He knew about you and chose not to be present. I didn’t need anything from him besides the love I wanted. He just wasn’t the man I thought he was.”

  “God, Momma… I’m so sorry.” I hug her again. “All this time, had I googled his name, I would’ve known,” I say to myself in an ironic chuckle. I never cared to know more. If he didn’t want me, then why would I want him?

  “You could’ve, but he wasn’t that well-known. Probably wouldn’t have made a difference to you anyway.”

  I nod. She’s got a point there.

  “Miles’s family isn’t to blame for anything. They’ve done what any friends would do when another is in trouble. I was stubborn at first, not wanting their charity.” I laugh at her use of the word like I did last night.

  “I know the feeling,” I nod.

  “But they just wanted to help me out. It was hard being a single mom, and I finally took the job they offered. When the winery picked up, Nathaniel told me to work there, but I refused. I liked being with the kids, doing what I do. It gave me a sense of accomplishment, and Sarah and I would chat when we could. I know you hate my job, but I don’t. I need you to understand that. I’m proud of how far I’ve come.” I see the sincerity in her eyes, the unshed tears.

  “I don’t hate your job,” I shake my head. “But you’re worth so much more.”

  “The job I do is worth a lot.”

  “Isn’t it weird, serving your friends?” I don’t get it.

  “I don’t serve them,” she laughs. “I clean their house, cook, care for it. I’m treated well, paid for the job I do, and I feel useful.”

  I smile at my mom. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “You are? I’m proud of you, sweetie.”

  “Nah, I haven’t yet accomplished anything worth being proud of.” The one thing going for me was college, and I couldn’t complete that. No matter how smart I am, I’ve always felt lost. Subconsciously, I question if it was because I never had a father figure to guide me. It’s the epitome of daddy issues.

  But with Miles, I felt different. He pushes me, challenges me. Sure, there are days I want to punch him for getting so involved, but ultimately, I know he means well.

  “Don’t put yourself down. You’re a hard worker, a kind person, and have a huge heart.” She’s always lifting me up.

  “Okay, enough,” I say awkwardly. “Can I eat the donut now?” I eye the goodness sitting in the bag. Sugary carbs will help soothe my mind and heart. At least, they provide a delicious distraction.

  “Yeah,” my mom smiles.

  We eat in silence, my mind still overwhelmed with everything. Tired from crying and the pain of walking away from Miles, I tell my mom I’m going to take a nap and land hard on my bed, exhaustion pulling me into a deep slumber after the stressful, sleepless night.

  But before I fall asleep, I pull up my phone and type my father’s name into a search browser. Pulling up photos of him when he was young, I stare wide-eyed. He has darker features as I imagined, tanned skin like me. This is the first time I have seen a photo of him. The first time I truly face the issue of my father. There’s a whole side of my DNA I know nothing about except that I’m half-H
ispanic by genes and that he was an athlete. And the only thing that crosses my mind is, I was right. I did get his hair.

  I trap tears in my eyes because no matter how old you are, knowing your father didn’t want his little girl hurts big time. I refuse to cry for a man who didn’t want me, but maybe it’s what I need to do so I can accept love from a different man.

  Chapter 30

  June

  “June, wake up!” My body shakes violently. “Wake up!” A loud voice pierces through my sleep, and my eyes fly open.

  “What?” I sit up and see my mom standing beside my bed, tears streaking her face and panic in her eyes.

  “What’s going on?” I stand on wobbly feet, but she remains quiet. “Momma? What’s wrong?” My voice rises.

  Her hands grip my arms, and then she hugs me. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?” My heart pounds as fear grips me.

  “Baby girl…” her hoarse voice whispers. “There was a fire.”

  “What?” My eyes widen. “Where? What are you talking about?” I look around the house, sleep still making me hazy. Obviously, it’s not our house, or we wouldn’t be standing here.

  “At the winery.” A fresh wave of tears fills her eyes.

  “What?” I whisper, my hand covering my mouth. If I thought my heart was racing before, it’s sprinting now as my mind catches on to what she’s saying.

  “Oh my God. Miles. Is he okay? Is Carla? Everyone? We have to go.” I race around my room with no direction, not thinking clearly until I spot my flip-flops and slip them on.

  “Let’s go,” I scream.

  “I think you should stay.”

  “Hell, no. I’m going. Either you come with me, or you stay.” I don’t realize I’m crying until tears trail down my neck and make me itchy. I swipe my face with my hands, but the tears keep coming.

  “I’ll drive,” she surrenders.