Forever yours,
Drake
* * *
My eyes blur with tears as I read his words. My heart cracks and my lungs burn, needing oxygen. My hands are shaking so hard that the words on the page aren’t even readable anymore. I drop the legal pad and reach for my phone, calling him.
The phone rings and rings until it goes to voicemail. Anger bubbles up in my chest. He left me. We still have time. We have almost four months! I can’t stay here for four months if he’s not by my side. All this time, he’s all I’ve had. He thinks breaking things off will be easier this way? Still having to run into each other and work together? Ha! I can’t see him and not reach out and touch him, kiss him, and want him. I fucking love him.
Oh God. I love him and we’re over. I’ve known for a while how I truly feel about him, but I didn’t fully think about the end of this thing. Do I want things to be over? Do I still want that promotion and fancy office? Or do I want him?
I shake my head. None of it matters if he doesn’t want me. I try calling him again, but nothing changes. His phone still goes to voicemail.
Angry and annoyed, I stand up and grab my keys. He can’t ignore me forever. If he wants things to end, then he’s going to have to do it to my face. Not take the coward’s way out and break up with me in a letter. Break up? We’re not together. He can’t break up with me.
I grab my keys and purse and head for my car. After 20 minutes of stewing on the drive over, I’m pulling up to his house, but his truck is nowhere in sight. I glance at the house. The front door is closed behind the screen door. When he’s home, that front door is always open. I look at the barn and it’s locked up tight. He must be at the brewery. I put the car in reverse and hit the gas. I travel down the old country roads as fast as I safely can. Finally, I’m at the brewery and walking quickly to the doors. The receptionist is behind her desk like normal. I wave as I walk by, but she calls my name and chases after me.
“Celeste! Please wait! You can’t go up there,” she says, almost jumping in front of me so I can’t get in the elevator.
“What? Why?” I ask, standing back and crossing my arms over my chest.
She swallows. “I’ve been told directly not to allow you up today. Mr. Slade is very busy and has contractors in and out all day. I’m sorry, Celeste.”
Tears sting my eyes and quickly fall over the rims. “I just need to see him. Just for a minute. Please?”
Her eyes are soft, as are her facial features. “I’m sorry.” She shakes her head.
I take a deep breath just as the elevator opens. Harrison steps out. “Come with me, Celeste,” he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as he leads me back outside to the parking lot.
“I just need to see him, Harrison,” I whine out.
He squeezes me close and runs his hand up and down my bicep in a soothing way. “I know, Celeste. And I’m sorry. I think it’s time you both just moved on.”
We come to a stop at my car and he releases me, but doesn’t walk away.
“I love him. I don’t want things to end. Not like this.”
He nods his head once and slides his hands into his pockets. “I know you both feel the same way, Celeste. I do. I’d never seen him as happy as he was with you. But that doesn’t change anything. You don’t belong here. You have a life waiting for you in California. And he doesn’t belong there. His life is here. The best thing for everyone is to just move on. I know your calls and your presence here have upset him. He hasn’t said anything, but I can see the pain in his eyes every time he has to ignore your call. So please, just go. If things are meant to be, then they’ll work out in the end. You have to have faith.” He pats me once on the shoulder then turns and walks back inside, leaving me staring at his back, alone.
Feeling weak, sad, and let down, I get back behind the wheel. I start the car but don’t have the energy to drive. I look up at the building that has practically been my home since my arrival. I miss it already. I miss him. Sadness fills me, but anger pushes me forward. I hate myself for ever starting anything with him. I hate myself for falling for him. I was warned. I knew he was broken before we got together. But I also saw him heal and come to life in front of my eyes. That was all because of us. Maybe that’s what I was supposed to do. Maybe our fling wasn’t meant to last forever—maybe it was only meant to heal him.
I shift the car into drive and start heading back into town slowly, not in any hurry since there’s nowhere I need to be. Right now, I just need to clear my head, relax, grieve, and move on. Try to figure out how the hell I’m going to live here another four months without him.
When I make it back to my motel, I lock the door behind me and move toward the tub for a bath. I need to relax and unwind. A long soak in a hot bath is just the way to do it. Stepping into the hot water, I feel the soreness leave my body—soreness that’s there thanks to a certain man I’ll never get to touch or feel again. My legs ache, my stomach is sore, and the junction between my legs is warm and ready for another round.
I lean my head back against the tub and close my eyes. Behind my eyelids, I see scenes of us from the past seven months. I see him moving on top of me, I see the way he smiles at me as his eyes light up. I see his hand moving toward my face, cupping it as he pulls me against his lips. I can hear his words as we talk late into the night. I can hear his moans when he slides into me. It’s all ingrained deep inside me. I’ll never forget. I’ll never recover. Drake Slade will always be the one I never wanted to leave—the one I’ll never get over.
My phone rings from the side of the tub and I grab it quickly, hoping to hear Drake’s voice.
“Hello?” I answer without looking at the caller ID.
“Ms. Teller?”
I sit up, suddenly surprised by the strange voice. “Yes?”
“This is Nick Mason. I’m here with Jefferson Howe and Terry Lawrence. We just wanted to call and congratulate you on the completion of Mr. Slade’s project!”
I smile weakly to myself. “Oh, thank you.” I mean the words, but I can’t muster up the energy it would take it make it sound right.
“We’re so pleased you got this finished so quickly that we’d like to welcome you back to the Los Angeles location. Your office is being prepared as we speak, and your reserved parking spot will be in place later today. Everything else we discussed is lined up. We’re very pleased with your work, Ms. Teller.”
My heart flutters as I process the words I’ve been dying to hear for so long, but it’s buried under grief.
“If you’d like to take us up on our offer, we’ll immediately reserve you a plane ticket home.”
I nod my head as tears well up in my eyes. I guess I should go home. I mean, I was worried about being stuck here for another four months without Drake. Going home would make things easier, and I could get back to where I’m supposed to be.
“Okay, that sounds great, but who will be taking over this location?” I ask.
“We can discuss that when you get home. We thought that after being there all this time, you’d want a say in who’s given the position. Well, Ms. Teller, my assistant will get your plane ticket set up right now and send you the details. We look forward to meeting with you soon. Good job, Ms. Teller.” Without another word, the call disconnects.
I take a deep breath and stand from the tub. I waste no time in packing. I don’t allow myself to stop or think about anything other than gathering my belongings. I fit what I can into my suitcase and the rest I don’t care about. I leave a note for the cleaning lady to keep what I’ve left behind. A little while later, my phone chimes with the details of my travel. I’ll turn the car in at the airport, then enjoy a first class seat back to California.
I load my luggage into my car, but before I can leave town, I have a couple things to do: tell Stephanie goodbye and gather my things from the office.
I stop by the bar first, where Stephanie is wiping down the counter just like she always is.
“Hey,” she says, watch
ing me approach.
“Hey,” I say, coming to a stop in front of her. “It’s time for me to go home.”
Her eyes widen. “What? Already?”
I nod. “My bosses just called me. They’re so happy I finished Drake’s job early that they’re calling me back home.”
Her shoulders fall. “So what does that mean for you and Drake?”
I feel tears stinging my eyes again, but I refuse to let them fall. “He actually just broke up with me. So, nothing. It means nothing. I get to go home. Be me again. I just wanted to stop by and say thanks for being a friend to me these last few months.” I grab a cocktail napkin and write down my Los Angeles info. “Don’t be a stranger.” I slide it across the bar. She picks it up and tucks it into her apron. I lean over the bar, wrap one arm around her, and give her a hug.
“See ya next time I’m passing through,” I laugh out, knowing I’ll probably never set foot in this town again.
“I’ll look you up when I find myself traveling through Cali,” she replies with a smile and a wave.
I wave from over my shoulder and push my way through the door.
16
Drake
“WE need your signature right here and we’re all done,” the contractor says as he leans over my desk. I scribble my name on the line and drop the pen. He picks up the contract and hands it to Harrison to make a copy.
“Make sure Celeste gets a copy of that document, Harrison,” I say, trying not to think about that statement. Before, I would’ve given it to her myself, but now I have to keep my distance. I know that if I see her, I won’t be able to walk away without touching her and taking what I want.
“Will do, sir,” Harrison says as he leads the contractor out of my office.
When I’m alone, I stand up and walk to my drink cart. I pour a rather large helping and walk over to the window, looking out at the farmland around me. Thanks to Celeste, in just a few months, I’ll be able to see my new distillery from this window.
This doesn’t feel right, celebrating without her. She was supposed to be there when we broke ground. She got us here, after all. I take a long pull of my whiskey as I rub my hand over my eyes. I hate the way I’m feeling right now. I miss her. God, I miss her. It hasn’t even been that long since I’ve seen her face. How can I miss her so much already? It’s probably because I know I’ll have to see that face from time to time over the next few months and won’t be able to hold it in my hands. I’ll never be able to touch her again.
Anger washes over me. Anger at myself and with her. She made me fall in love. If she’d been any less of a woman, I never would’ve had these feelings to begin with. She knew what she was doing by drawing me into her web.
I shake my head at myself. That isn’t true. She was just being herself. This is all my fault, but being angry with her makes things easier for me. I have to stay away—not just for me, but for her too. I don’t know how she feels about me exactly, but I know I don’t want to mess up her life and her plans.
I finish off my drink and shut down the office for the night. Instead of heading straight home, I drive through town, creeping by her office. It’s dark and locked up for the evening. I drive by the grocery store and bar, looking for her car—not that I’d approach her, but just needing to see a piece of her somewhere. When I don’t find it, I give in and drive to her motel. I shut off my headlights as I pull in, not wanting to give myself away. I shift into park and look for her car. It’s nowhere to be found.
I look at her room. The light is on and I can see movement behind the curtain. I wait, wondering if someone has broken into her room. The door opens and a cleaning cart rolls out, followed by the maid. I can see that the room is completely empty—Celeste’s personal touches are gone. The housekeeper reaches inside and turns off the light, leaving the room in complete darkness. She closes the door and locks it before pushing the cart down the sidewalk.
She left town. Fuck. Celeste left town. It feels like someone has reached into my chest and yanked out my heart. I was breaking things off now so I’d have time to adjust to being alone, but I wasn’t ready to be without her completely. I still need her. I need to see her face. I need to have awkward conversations. I need to feel my feelings for her slowly fading away. Now she’s gone and I’m here alone with everything buried inside of me. Anger washes over me and I punch the steering wheel. Goddamn it.
I take a deep breath. No, this is good. This is what I needed. She’s gone. If she’s not here, then these feelings can be buried so I never feel them again. I just need one night of good blackout drunken sleep. I shift into drive and turn on my lights, heading home.
Once at home, I let myself into the house and head straight for my bottle of whiskey. It’s been placed inside the cabinet instead of left out on the table. When I was with her, I didn’t need it. But now, she’s not here and I need something to take the edge off. I pull it out and uncap the bottle, taking a long drink that burns its way down my throat. I repeat this process over and over until I feel the first warning signs of the alcohol. The tingling in my stomach takes over as I head down the hallway to the bedroom. I kick off my boots and lean back on the bed. Disturbing the pillows makes the smell of her waft up my nose. I breathe it in deeply, needing to smell her, feel her, and pretend she’s here with me.
“Drake?” a man’s voice yells out.
I grab my bottle and head to the living room to find Colton walking in the door.
“Hey, man. What’s up?” he asks, flopping down on the couch.
I shrug and take my seat in the recliner. “Just getting shit-faced. What about you?” My voice sounds strained—off in some way. It’s thick with emotion.
He looks up and studies me for a moment. “Where’s Celeste?” He starts glancing around.
“She left. Went back to Los Angeles,” I grind out, lifting the bottle and taking another swig.
“Whoa, hey, slow down.” He reaches for the bottle and takes it away. “Keep throwing this stuff back like that and you’ll be in the hospital getting your stomach pumped before the night’s up.” He tips the bottle back and takes a small sip.
“Fuck it. I need something to do later,” I joke.
“What’s going on, man? Did you two break up for good?”
I nod.
“You mean you aren’t even going to try the long-distance thing?” His brows are pulled together in confusion.
“Nope,” I say, shaking my head.
“Well, why the fuck not?”
My eyes cut to him, but I don’t know how to answer.
“I saw how good the two of you were together. Why would you just give that up?”
My mouth opens but no words come out.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, man? Go get her!” He motions toward the door.
“No! She’s not mine. She never was. She’s meant for more than I’ll ever be.”
He scoffs. “Dammit, Drake. Why do you always do this shit?”
My head jerks in his direction. “What shit?” I ask, getting offended.
He stands up, pacing the floor in front of me. “You find something you want, something you love, and you just throw it all away! I know you want her. I know you love her! Why the hell are you just letting her go?”
I wave my hand though the air. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me!”
I don’t bother. I just stare at his feet.
“I’m living every damn day of my life in fucking misery,” he says. “The woman I love was taken from me. She was taken without warning and I’m still not over it. Deep down, I know I’ll never be over it. And what makes it worse is that I have this little girl, and every time I look in her sweet little eyes, all I can see is the woman who’s gone and I hate it. I hate her for leaving me, even though I know that makes no sense and it wasn’t her choice to die. I hate God for taking her and leaving me here. I’m alone. But you don’t have to be. Go get her, Drake. Stop being afraid of everything. If she turns
you down, then she turns you down. Then you get up and dust yourself off and work to get over her. But there’s still a chance, man—a chance she’ll want all the same things you want. Just reach for it!” Without another word, he slams the bottle on the coffee table and marches out, leaving me staring after him.
I’m speechless. I knew my brother was still fucked up from the loss of his wife, but I’ve never heard him talk about it like he just did—so bare and raw. He’s right. He doesn’t have a choice. He has to let go. But I don’t. Not yet. There’s still hope.
I grab my phone and call her number. It goes straight to voicemail, and hearing her voice is like a knife to my heart. I try again and again, but she never answers. Pissed off at myself for being so damn stupid, I get up and grab my keys. I go back to her office, hoping to find something. Anything. The parking lot is empty, and her assistant is gone for the night. I go by the bar next, finding Stephanie walking out as she locks up behind herself.
I throw the truck in park and rush at her, causing her to yell and drop the keys.
“Fuck, Drake! You scared the shit out of me.” Her hand covers her heart.
“I’m sorry, but I need to find Celeste.”
She nods. “She’s gone.”
“I know. She’s not answering her phone. Do you know how to get in touch with her?”
She gives me a sidelong look. “She said you two were done.”
Billionaire's Unexpected Bride (Slade Brothers Book 1) Page 19
