by C. M. Albert
“Look at me, Liv. Please.”
It gutted me. I owed him this, no matter how much it broke me.
I dragged my gaze up to finally meet his soft green eyes, only they weren’t so soft, they were searing with heat as if he were trying to brand me. “If you feel this, too, if I was ever anything more than just a plaything for you and Ryan—you need to tell me. I need to know this wasn’t for nothing.”
“I can’t,” I whispered.
His jaw clenched and he released my chin, swearing.
“Brighton—”
“I can’t do this, Liv. I can’t sit here and watch you and Ryan be so happy without me. I thought I could. Hell,” he said, running his fingers through his hair, “all I’ve ever wanted was to make you happy. It’s why I agreed to this to begin with. But somewhere along the way, I fell. Okay? I fucking fell for you.”
Brighton shook his head, then put his hands on his hips as he looked at me. I bit my lip, the tears now silently spilling over onto my cheeks.
“If you ever felt it too, just give me something. Because I love you so goddamn hard. I haven’t said those words to a woman in years. I never meant for this to happen. Trust me. I know you can never be mine. But I love you, Olivia North, and I need something. Anything.”
I closed my eyes and whispered, “Tulips.”
“Huh?”
“I love tulips. Love them with my entire heart and soul. I wish I could surround myself with tulips every damn day, okay? I just love them. I can’t explain it. I can’t deny it. Everyone thinks my favorite flower is a peony. But you know what? Tulips suit me better. And if I could smell a bouquet of tulips every day of my life, I would be so happy.”
“Tulips,” he whispered.
“Tulips.”
He reached out and squeezed my arm. “I never knew you liked them so much,” he said, finally grinning.
“I don’t like them,” I said.
“You love them.”
“Looks like I do.”
I walked over the threshold, feeling a million pounds lighter for having released the heavy burden that had settled on my heart since the moment I walked up to the Kerrington estate that first day and laid eyes on Brighton.
I’d known then that he was going to spell trouble for me. I just never imagined it would be this liberating and heartbreaking all at once. He was my captor, my savior, and my downfall—all rolled into one.
“By the way, the color of the door is definitely staying,” he said from behind me.
It was the first time I laughed honestly all day. I glanced back at the overflowing planters with flowers nearly as dark and elegant as the front door. “I hope the tulips are too,” I said.
“Always.”
Chapter 35
Ryan
THE MOVERS BROUGHT my new desk up to the office and helped me arrange the space since I’d also changed out the aged leather sofa. I upgraded it with a brand-new Chesterfield in Vintage Cocoa from Pottery Barn. It suited me better. I put my hands on my hips, surveying the room with pride, when a light knock drew my attention to the door.
“Kimber,” I said unenthusiastically, “I didn’t know you’d be here today.”
She laughed, stepping into my office without an invitation. “Oh, you know me. I’m here every day.”
If the gossip about her husband were true, I could understand why.
“Are you officially back?” she asked, her gaze sweeping over the office with approval. She looked back at me, her eyes raking over me as well.
I saw the interest there, and quite frankly, it made me nauseated. Even if I weren’t married, and she didn’t have a good fifteen years on me, I still wouldn’t punt that one. Her insides were as black as her artificial hair.
“Nope, just getting my office ready,” I said as I turned my back to her and started unpacking the books I’d boxed up while the office was being painted over the summer. It was now a soothing dusky blue, called De Nimes—and of course Liv had been right. It was perfect.
“It’s so you,” she said, stepping closer. She went to pull a book from the box and accidentally brushed my hand. “Can I help with anything?”
I took a deep breath. “Nope. Thanks though. Just want to get these unpacked so I can get home for dinner.”
“Is Liv working today?” she asked. “You know, with that man you introduced me to. What was his name? Bart? Burton?”
“Brighton,” I ground out between clenched teeth. I was losing my patience with the woman.
“Oh, right!” she said gaily. “Brighton Kerrington. I looked up his line on Erickson’s, you know.”
Of course, she did.
“Hope you found something you liked,” I said, not taking the bait.
She wrinkled her nose. Clearly, she was fishing for something, but I wasn’t biting.
“Sorry to rush you, Kimber, but I really need to get this done today. I’m officially still off and want to enjoy the rest of my summer with my wife. So, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, fingering her long, pearl necklace. “Did you know he just launched a new bedroom suite for his Bright and Classic line?”
I hadn’t known that, but I wasn’t giving Kimber the satisfaction.
“Yeah, I heard it’s pretty amazing.”
She smirked. “Oh, it’s amazing all right. You should check it out. In case you want to switch things up at home, too.”
I froze, not daring to give her the satisfaction of turning to look at her. “Thanks, Kimber. I’ll keep it in mind. Have a nice evening,” I said, dismissing her.
I waited until the clack of her heels faded down the hall before I opened the browser on my laptop. My stomach sank when I saw a gorgeous bedroom set pop up on my screen. It was a large, masculine four-poster bed the color of oak that’s gone through several stages of distressing. It reminded me of a grayish brown driftwood, the woodwork was so fine. The ensemble also included a fourteen-drawer master chest of drawers that was both classic and stunning. Its nickel drawer pulls were the perfect choice, and I knew Liv would approve of the design aesthetic if she saw it. The last piece was a hope chest at the foot of the bed, made of the same beautiful wood, the sides inlaid with the same paneling as the tall, oversized dresser. I wondered where the end tables were or a mirrored dresser you were used to seeing in a bedroom suite.
It was a stunning collection, but I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why Kimber would care whether I saw Kerrington’s new line. I was about to close my browser when my eyes fell on its name.
The Northern Wells Bedroom Trio.
Chapter 36
Brighton
LIV AND I were having beers on the patio, the firepit crackling, when Ryan finally pulled into the driveway. We’d been talking about her bereavement group and how that went. The short answer was—far better than she imagined it would. The more complicated answer was about all the feelings it dredged back up. I thought Liv was going to push me away and not share anything from the meeting. She surprised me when she grabbed some cold beers and asked if I wanted to join her outside.
“Hey, man!” I called out as Ryan headed over to us. He put his hands on Liv’s shoulders, and she rolled her head to the side, relaxing into his touch. The intimacy was a punch to the gut. I had to figure out a way to get over it. At least until I was able to finish the house.
Ryan squeezed Liv’s shoulders, then sat down in one of the chairs, running his hand over his face.
“Long day?” Olivia asked, handing him her beer. We were on number three. We should’ve stopped two beers ago, but we were having fun chatting as the sun set and fireflies came out, signaling their mating calls for all the world to see.
“You could say that. I ran into Kimber today.”
“Oh,” was all Olivia said. “She still being Kimber?”
Ryan chuckled, pulling from the beer. “Yeah. The office looks good though, Liv. The color you picked is amazing.”
“Thanks,” she said. “We’re act
ually using it in the master bedroom at Brighton’s place, too. It’s a great neutral for a blue.”
“Speaking of bedrooms,” he said, turning his attention to me.
Shit. That look told me one thing, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk about it yet.
“Mind telling us why you named your new bedroom line what you did? Does Liv know?” he asked, turning toward his wife.
“Know what?” she asked.
I closed my eyes, running a hand along the thigh of my jeans. How could I explain why I did what I did at the last minute? My marketing team had nearly killed me, making the last-minute change and having to update all our advertising and marketing materials at the eleventh hour. But I knew the minute I saw the set in production that it needed its new name. I couldn’t articulate it—which was about to be an issue—it was just a feeling. A way to keep them and this special time with me always. To prove it was real. Eventually, they’d be in my rearview, nothing but a memory.
“About that,” I started, looking at Ryan.
“What?!” Liv asked. “You guys are freaking me out a little.”
I wet my lips. “Erickson’s just released my newest collection. It was special for me because I created it originally by hand for my own home. I’m guessing you’ve seen it?” I said, looking at Ryan.
He nodded. I pulled up my phone to a marketing image I had of the set and handed it to Liv. Her eyes lit up when she saw it.
“Brighton! This is gorgeous! Congrats! Why didn’t you say anything?”
I shrugged, waiting for her to see the name of the collection. She was too busy zooming in on each piece, looking at it with her design eye. “I release new furniture all the time in my Bright and Classic line, to keep it fresh and current, even though the pieces are meant to be timeless,” I said, sounding like a sales pitch. I had to just spit it out. “This line was getting ready to drop, and my marketing team sent me the finals for approval a few weeks ago, right after the first few times we were—”
I paused. What did I call what we’d done?
“Intimate?” Liv suggested, her eyes rounding. I guess she’d gotten to the name of the collection. She looked up at me. “The Northern Wells Bedroom Trio? Really, Brighton?” She burst out laughing.
The weight on my chest lifted, and I felt like I could finally breathe.
“Glad someone’s amused,” Ryan said, sounding surly.
“Oh, for god’s sake, Ryan. What’s the big deal? I think it’s pretty cool.” She handed the phone back to me. “It’s a gorgeous trio,” she said, looking pointedly at Ryan. “You built this originally for your own home?”
I nodded, happy to move on to the design side of things, and not stay fixated on its sentimental name. I hadn’t done it to be a dick. I’d done it because my time with them would forever be etched into my heart. It was a way to permanently mark our time together. There was another reason, too.
“A few years ago, I needed a change. I was in a rut after college, and I was having a hard time getting over the loss of my son. So, in my spare time, I started creating a bedroom set in my personal workshop. I didn’t know I was going to keep it for myself at the time, or that it would be a protype for a future line. I just needed to work off some of my pain. Then I started thinking about what I liked and needed. Looked at my own room. All I needed was a new bed frame, a manly chest of drawers, and a storage chest.”
“What was the storage chest for?” Liv asked. “That’s not a standard addition to a bedroom set.”
“No, it’s not.” Of course Liv would pick up on that. “Remember how I told you both about my college girlfriend, Caroline? She was the mother of my son,” I said, clearing my throat. I took a swig of beer, gripping my thigh with my other hand. “She died from a rare and aggressive form of cancer. When her parents finally got through the business of going through her things, they found a box of baby items that she’d kept. It gutted me to go through them. The things we’d bought for him with so much hope and excitement.”
My leg was bouncing, and Liv leaned over, placing a hand on it to help calm me. “It’s okay, Brighton. You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to. But you know we understand what you’re going through. We have small boxes for our babies, too.”
I nodded, glancing at Ryan. I expected him to still be grumpy, but his dark brown eyes were full of compassion. He nodded, letting me know things were okay after all. I breathed a sigh of relief, then kept going.
“I ended up keeping each of the pieces for my own bedroom because I loved them so much. But I happened to share them with my Erickson rep one day, who fell in love with them, too. They wanted me to make more for the set, but I refused. It always just felt like a trio. Not everyone needs or wants the matching end tables and two exactly matching dressers. And in a weird way, I wanted to keep everything exactly as it was because of the storage chest. I wanted it to be a sentimental line. And it is for me. Which is why the name just never seemed to be quite right, to capture all these big feelings I had when I created it.
“So, a couple weeks ago they ran all the files by me for final approval—and I just kept looking at the chest. Thinking about the trio part of it. You guys kept coming to my mind. Maybe because you know what I’ve been through. Maybe because the three of us will always be the only trio close to my heart. Hell, I don’t know. It was a way for me to make you permanent in my life, I guess.”
“Brighton!” Olivia said, squeezing my knee. “You’re a permanent part of our lives, regardless. Do you really think we could go through something like this with just anyone? That after everything we’ve shared with you—how vulnerable we were—that we’d just cast you aside and not stay in touch?”
I shrugged, looking to Ryan. Maybe because it had all been in his court, and he was the one who’d wanted to stop it. I would’ve given myself over and over again to them, regardless of the damage it was doing to my heart. Because I was having a hard time walking away, even though they needed me to.
“Kerrington,” Ryan said, drawing my attention his way. He stood up and walked over to me, grabbing my hand and yanking me up from the Adirondack chair. He pulled me in for a dude hug with the other arm, patting me on the back a few times. “You’re not getting rid of us, asshole.”
I grinned. There was the Ryan I knew and loved. And, yes, I realized I loved him, too. Only it was more platonic, like a brother or a best friend. But to Olivia’s point, what we’d shared had been so emotionally vulnerable. It was hard not to let my guard down with them both.
“Thanks for understanding,” I said.
Ryan laughed finally. “A freaking bedroom set though? Really subtle. Don’t think Kimber’s radar wasn’t going off all over the place.”
Olivia covered her mouth, stifling her laughter.
“Oh man, sorry about that. There was no reason for anyone to ever draw a connection. And if they did, well, you both were central in rehabbing my uncle Isaiah’s place. It was just a tribute to that help.”
“I’m not worried,” Ryan said, laughing. “Let the old bat stew and go crazy trying to figure things out. I was already involved in one scandal with this one over here,” he said, tossing his thumb over his shoulder at Liv. “What’s one more?”
We all settled back into our chairs and finished our beers before calling it a night. Liv and I needed to finish the installation over the weekend, and I couldn’t wait to show Ryan once it was finished. Now that I knew how much he loved books, I wanted to share my uncle’s library with him. And I had a special book I found that I wanted to give to him.
As close as we were all feeling, and as tipsy as we were, I was kinda hoping they’d invite me to join them again. Just one last time. It was pathetic, I knew that. But I was always hoping for just one more time with Liv. Especially after what she’d told me earlier. It was something I’d carry with me forever and was far more special than if she’d just come out and said the damn words.
So, while they slept, I couldn’t stop my mind from spinning in
a million different directions. About them. Our lost babies. Our intimate and special connection. About the whole experience this summer. It would be something I’d never forget, and I never wanted them to either.
I pulled out my phone and started doing some research, excited when my idea started coming to light. A few quick texts later, and I was finally able to lay my heart to rest.
Chapter 37
Olivia
WE’D FINISHED THE ceiling installation in the library and were waiting on a few larger items to be delivered—including the chandelier I’d sourced to replace the existing two-story one. With the original tiles back in, the new chandelier would better compliment their rich, dusky hues of plum, green, and gold.
It wouldn’t be long now till the entire house needed to be staged and finally put on the market. My heart ached at the thought of having anyone other than Brighton living next door. I knew it wasn’t reasonable to daydream about him staying, but my mind couldn’t wrap itself around the idea of having new neighbors. Or not seeing Brighton come bounding down the front steps in nothing more than his work shorts and bare chest, his blond hair damp from a hard day’s work.
I had to stop imagining that.
Ryan and I were doing so much better. Between that and the bereavement group, I had to admit, I was feeling more connected and present in my life again. Not healed, not by a long shot. But the extreme loneliness and deep emptiness in my heart was starting to ebb, leaving me with a healing I wasn’t fully ready for—even if I was grateful for it.
Since we’d gone back to just Ryan and me in the intimacy department, things had really heated up—and I kept quiet about missing Brighton. It was like being given a treat you never knew you loved, and it soon became your favorite. It filled you, satiated you with so much delight. Then the chef took it off the menu permanently, and everything else tasted bland in comparison.
