by T. K. Leigh
“So that’s why I didn’t show up today. And you know what? I’m done showing up. I’m…done. I deserve to be someone’s priority, not just something else they have to deal with. I refuse to be an item on a to-do list.” I spin around and retrieve my keys from my purse, inserting them into the doorknob.
Just as I open the door, Wes says, “Her name’s Christy. She’s a realtor the company works with on commercial plots.”
I glance over my shoulder. “Then I suppose your mother will see that as a step up from a state employee from a blue-collar family.”
“No. That’s not what I mean.” He grabs my arm, preventing me from hiding away inside my house. “The reason I lied to you, the reason I haven’t been around much this week, is because I’ve been driving all over the greater Boston area looking for the perfect place for us.”
I arch an eyebrow. “For us?”
“Yes.” He releases his grasp on me and withdraws his phone from his pocket. After typing on it, he holds it out for me. I see an aerial view of a large parcel of land. “That’s four acres in Wellesley for us to build our dream house.”
“Our dream house?” I swallow through the tightness in my throat, my eyes glued to the image of the wooded area with a lake.
“I’ve searched everywhere for a house like the one you’d want.”
“How do you know what house I’d want?” I press, still unsure if I should believe him.
“Because I listen to you, Brooklyn,” he insists, his eyes intense. “You love where you grew up but wish you had more room to run around as a kid. You want a kitchen with a farmhouse sink overlooking the back yard, a large island, distressed white cabinets, and a wine cellar. The décor should be rustic chic, lots of metal and reclaimed wood. The master bedroom should be separate from the rest of the house, a private recluse, somewhere you can relax and unwind after a stressful day of saving the world, one abused kid at a time.”
With each word, my guilt for ditching him today increases. There’s a thickness in my throat as my stiff posture loosens, my shoulders drooping.
Noticing my anger waning, he steps toward me, his hand finding mine. He runs his fingers across my knuckles, the gesture soothing. “You want your own private study with built-in bookshelves, a large wrap-around porch, and a big tree in the front yard with a swing, like you had growing up.”
My lips part as I stare at him, overwhelmed. “How did you know all that?”
“I told you, Brooklyn. I listen. Every word that has ever come out of that beautiful mouth has been permanently etched in my mind. Regardless of how trivial you may think they were, there’s no such thing when it comes to you.”
“But I never spoke about what I imagined for my dream house…”
“You didn’t have to. How many times have you forced me to watch home improvement shows?”
I blush, smiling as I swallow my tears. But they’re no longer tears of anger, of disgust. They’re tears of happiness… Of love?
“A lot.”
“And just by the look on your face, I could tell what you liked and what you didn’t. I wanted to surprise you on our wedding day.” He laughs slightly. “I had this vision in my head of leaving the reception, but instead of going to a hotel, I’d pull up to this breathtaking home.”
“Oh, Wes…” I bring my body closer and he cups my cheeks in his hands, leaning his forehead on mine.
“You’d ask me where we were and I’d grin, not saying a word. You’d be wary at first, as you usually are, but your curiosity would get the better of you, as it usually does. You’d step out of the car and walk up the steps of the front porch, hoping your premonition was right. Your eyes would fall on a small, gift-wrapped box just in front of the door, your name on the tag. Inside would be a key, no other explanation.”
I bite my lip to stop my chin from quivering, and Wes kisses the tear that escapes.
“I’d tell you to try it. You’d be skeptical, but you’d eventually put the key into the knob.” He releases a short breath, a smile crossing his mouth, as if imagining it in his mind. “Your face would light up when it turned. The extra hours I spent making this happen would be worth it when you realized this was our home. Where we would build a life. Where we would raise our children. Where we would grow old together.”
“My god, I’m so sorry,” I exhale, pressing my lips to his, overwhelmed by how much this man cares for me. And what did I give him in return? Nothing. We’ve been dating the better part of a year. He’s never shown any indication that he’s the type of person to be unfaithful. In fact, his devotion has been nothing less than unwavering. But I was so eager to assume the worst, almost like I was looking for any excuse to walk away from him and straight into the arms of a man who’s only caused me heartache. That ends today. From this moment on, Wes deserves every single bit of my attention, every ounce of devotion, every assurance of my love. Not Drew. That ship sailed years ago. And it needs to stay far off shore.
“No, I’m sorry. I never should have lied to you.”
“You weren’t lying. You were trying to surprise me. And I ruined that.”
He smirks, the heat of his mouth so close to mine sending a shiver through me. “I’ll just have to come up with something else to surprise you,” he says flirtatiously.
“Oh yeah?” As I grip the lapels of his suit jacket, he pushes me back into the house, his lips never far from mine. “Like what?”
“I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise. But I do have something that might hold you over for the time being.”
“And what’s that?”
“This.” In an instant, he gets down on one knee in front of me, grabbing my left hand in his. “I was just saying how I know you, how I listen to you, even when you’re not talking. But I messed up.”
“No, you didn’t. I’m the one—”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about last week when I asked you to marry me. Most of the girls I’ve dated would have wanted to be proposed to in public with people watching. And I thought since that’s what they’d want, you’d want that to. But you’re not them. Believe me. That’s a good thing,” he adds quickly. “You’re unassuming, caring, and so beautifully pure. You don’t care about money, about material things, about flying away to Paris for the weekend.”
“True, but I did enjoy Paris.” I chew on my bottom lip, immediately transported to the City of Lights, of kissing Wes in front of the Eiffel Tower. It didn’t matter that there were hundreds of other couples snapping selfies as they did the same thing. In that moment, I felt like it was just us. I want to get back to that feeling. I need to get back to that feeling.
“I’m glad. But I still messed up the first time I got down on one knee and asked you to marry me. When the ring didn’t fit, I worried it was a sign that our marriage was doomed. It was a sign, but not about our relationship. It was the kick in the pants I needed to realize that you’re not like most women. It gave me the opportunity to give you the proposal you deserve…and the ring you deserve.”
In one smooth motion, he withdraws a black velvet box from his jacket and flips it open. This time, instead of an over-the-top marquis-cut diamond with stones covering the wide band, I stare at a simple round-cut diamond. It’s a decent-sized stone, but the band is thin, tiny diamonds inlaid into the entire circumference. It’s exactly what I’ve always pictured.
“Brooklyn Rose Tanner,” he begins and I stare at him. “I am madly, completely, irrationally in love with you. It doesn’t make sense, but I guess love never does. I love the way you make my entire body perk up when you walk into a room. I don’t even have to see you to know you’re near, your mere presence causing an electricity to flow through me, a buzz in the air.”
My lips lift as his words bathe me with the love I need from him right now. I’m no longer thinking that I’ve experienced the same reaction to another man. No more. This man kneeling before me is proposing again…for me. Because it’s what I need. And he knows this without me even saying a
word. This is the man I should devote my time and energy to, not someone who’s perpetually emotionally unavailable, or at least he conveniently was until I got engaged.
“I love the way you hold your breath when you’re excited about something, and I hope I can always make you excited…in more ways than one.” He winks. I can’t help but laugh. It’s like the missing piece in the puzzle of my life has finally snapped into place.
“But mostly, I love the way you care for others.” He takes the ring out of the box and brings it up to my finger. This time, there’s no hesitation or anxiety filling me. There’s no darting eyes at my surroundings. Even if we were in public, it wouldn’t matter. Wes is all I see. And he’s all I want to see for the rest of my life.
“All those children under your supervision are blessed to have you looking out for them, for advocating on their behalf so they have a chance at a better future than what they were initially handed. The world needs more people with a heart as pure as yours. And I’m forever blessed that you found it in that heart to let me in, to show me how beautiful it truly is. And I’ll be eternally grateful if you find room in your heart to love me for the rest of your life.”
Tears obscure my vision, a kaleidoscope of prisms distorting everything. Everything except Wes.
“So please, my amazing Brooklyn Rose, choose me, love me…” He meets my eyes, his own awash with emotion. This moment is perfection. I don’t even ponder why he asked me to choose him. It doesn’t matter. All that does is how his words make me feel. For the first time, I feel venerated, adored…loved. Wes is right. This is what I deserve. “Marry me,” he finishes with a quiver.
There’s not so much as a hint of hesitation this time. “Yes.”
He slides the ring onto my finger. A perfect fit. When he stands, I clutch his cheeks in my hands, kissing him, my tears continuing to fall. He pulls me to him, his tongue brushing against my lips. I open for him and he kisses me in a way he never has, leaving me breathless, thoughtless, mindless.
When he pulls away, his clear blue eyes meet mine. “I’ll admit, I was kind of nervous you wouldn’t say yes.”
I laugh, wiping at my tears. “After that proposal? No girl in her right mind would say no to that.” My arms wrap around his neck, my lips hovering near his.
“I don’t care what most women would say. All I care is what you would say. And I’m so glad you gave me a chance to make it right.”
“Me, too.” I bite my lip, passing him a demure look as I reach for the buttons on his shirt, slowly undoing the top one. “Now, let me have a chance to make it right.”
He cocks a brow. “What did you have in mind?”
When I finish unbuttoning his shirt, I run my hands down his firm chest. “You’ll see,” I murmur, then grab his hand, tugging him up the stairs and into the bedroom.
The instant we cross the threshold, I drop my hold on him and spin around. My eyes trained on his, I lift my shirt over my head. This is a dance we’ve done many times before, but it feels different. I’m finally ready to give him all of me, even that piece of myself that’s been holding out hope for someone else. I’m ready to give Wes my heart.
I lower my jeans and panties down my long legs, then unfasten my bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. A heat builds in his eyes as I stand exposed before him. Fisting the fabric of his open shirt, I bring him toward me. Our mouths find each other and he breathes into me. My chest presses against his, our kiss an erotic filling of lungs.
“Make love to me,” I beg.
Without a word, he gently pushes me back until my legs hit the mattress, his eyes never leaving mine. And I don’t want them to. I never want to stop staring into his peaceful deep pools of blue, the connection keeping me here with him, keeping me from thinking of anyone but him. He shrugs off his shirt, then steps out of his pants before lowering me onto the mattress. My heart pounds in my chest as he crawls on top of me, his mouth on my neck, hands on my skin. I claw at his back, finding the waistband of his boxers and pushing them down.
“I need to feel you.” I pulse against him, running my fingers through his hair.
He pulls back, peering down at me, a playful look about him. I like this. He’s not the serious man I know him to be in his professional life. He’s the hopeless romantic who stalked me at the café until I finally agreed to go out with him. He’s the charismatic man who called in a favor so my dad could throw a pitch at Fenway Park after hours. And he’s the devoted man who’s willing to give me the rest of his days.
“I love you so much, Brooklyn.”
I smile, my body relaxing. “I love you, too.”
“I’ll never tire of hearing you say that.”
Opening the nightstand drawer, he reaches for a condom and rolls it on. The instant he enters me, all my tension disintegrates, the bliss and ecstasy coursing through me exactly what I need right now. Wes is exactly what I need.
No one else.
Chapter 21
Drew
I stare at the calendar on the desk in my office, looking at today’s date — April twenty-sixth. It’s been nearly four weeks since I’ve last seen Brooklyn. I don’t know what to make of it. We left each other on good terms. She even hugged me, kissing my cheek, encouraging me to brush off our surprise visit with Carla.
Since then, she’s disappeared from my life, from all our lives. There’s been no more Friday morning coffee at the café. She even canceled on Sunday dinner the past four weeks, texting Molly an excuse about working overtime. Whenever I’ve tried calling, she messaged back, claiming she couldn’t talk, that she was with a client or in court. I even dropped by her house several times, but her place was dark, no life to be seen.
Maybe I’m over-analyzing the situation, but I can’t shake the feeling she’s trying to avoid me. I thought we made progress that day at the science museum. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought I dreamt it all.
As I reach for my cell, about to try to get a hold of her, there’s a knock on my office door.
“Come in,” I call out, expecting it to be one of the assistant coaches or players needing something from me. When the door opens, I glance up, doing a double take when Skylar saunters toward me.
“Sky, what are you doing here?” I quickly stand, my brows furrowed. I shoot my eyes to my phone, clicking off the screen, hiding Brooklyn’s contact. Why does it matter? Brooklyn’s a friend. And Sky… Well, she’s… I’m not even sure. Fuck-buddy sounds crass, but I suppose that’s what she is.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Andrew Brinks,” she coos, pressing her hands to my chest as she lifts her lips to meet mine.
The past month seems to evaporate from my mind as my body’s autopilot turns on, my mouth lowering to hers. The instant our lips touch, the tension that’s been building over the past several weeks lessens.
“Any reason in particular?” she asks, taking my bottom lip between her teeth, tugging at it. That’s all it takes to cause a slight twitching in my pants. I’m nowhere near as turned on as I was the few times Brooklyn and I almost kissed, but it’s still something.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to stop by when I invite you over?” she pouts.
I inwardly groan. This is why I’ve always avoided serious relationships. My girls come first, no question. Not many women understand that. Or maybe just not many of the types of women I typically date do.
“I’ve had a lot going on.” I withdraw from her, running my hand through my hair.
“Like what?” She sits on the corner of my desk, the short skirt she’s wearing riding up even more.
“I won’t bore you with the details.” I return to my chair, rearranging the files scattered all over the surface of the desk to make it look like I’m busy so she’d leave. Unfortunately, she doesn’t get the hint.
“I don’t mind. I want you to share these things with me, Andrew.” She inches toward me, her voice borderline whiny.
“You do?” I lift my eyes to hers, arching a
single brow.
“Of course.” She pauses, taking a deep breath.
For an instant, I see a bit of vulnerability. It’s a different look for her. She’s usually confident. It’s one of the things that attracted me to her when we first met. She knows what she wants and goes after it. She wanted me, but not the trappings of a traditional relationship. I wanted the same things. It was the perfect arrangement. But after the way we left things the last time we saw each other, I get the feeling it’s no longer enough for her, that we’ve hit our expiration date.
“These past several weeks I haven’t seen you made me realize how much I do care for you.”
“You do?”
“I know this was just supposed to be fun, a way for both of us to blow off some steam, but I’ve missed you.” Peering at me through seductive eyes, she hooks her foot in my rolling chair and drags me closer. “Didn’t you miss me?” She wraps her arms around my neck, slithering off the desk and onto my lap, straddling me.
A few weeks ago, I would have pushed her panties aside and screwed her in this very position, not caring who might hear us. But I haven’t given Skylar a second thought since the morning Brooklyn stopped by the hockey rink and I almost kissed her. The only woman on my mind lately, the only woman who matters, is Brooklyn. I suppose she always has been.
“Skylar…”
She pulls back, shaking her head in what I can only describe as disappointment mixed with a side of confirmation. “I’ve heard that tone before. Why do I get the feeling I won’t like what you’re about to say?”
“Because you probably won’t.”
She raises herself off me and crosses her arms in front of her chest, glaring. “Well then, get on with it.”
I stand, looking at her with a mixture of compassion and indifference. “I told you from the beginning I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship.”
Her expression softening, she approaches me once more, running her hand down my chest. “And I thought the same thing. But it seems more girls I went to college with are settling down, having families. It got me thinking about what’s next for me. We could be good together, if you just give me a chance, Andrew.”
