Fighting For Love - A Standalone Novel (A Bad Boy Sports Romance Love Story) (Burbank Brothers, Book #5)

by Naomi Niles

  “I’ve been waiting for ages,” I yelled back teasingly. “Come out already before I give up and go home.”

  I held my breath, not knowing what to expect. I’d had the dress described to me, but I knew that seeing it in person would be something else. I felt time tick past slowly as I impatiently waited, then after what felt like forever, the dressing room door swung open to reveal a vision in white. The dress was long, flowing, and swirled around my mother like a dream. It gave her a regal, queen-like appearance that literally took my breath away.

  She’d told me that it was the dress, and I could see exactly what she meant.

  “Oh my God,” I gasped, throwing my hands up over my mouth. “Mom, you look absolutely amazing.” I tried to express my happiness, but I couldn’t quite find the right words.

  “Do you like it?” Her eyes were shining with pleasure, which made me well up with emotional tears. In all the years I’d been alive, I’d never seen her look so glowing and filled with joy. She was so obviously the happiest that she’d ever been, and that made me feel more settled about everything that was happening. I’d been so wrapped up in getting it all organized, that I hadn’t really considered my own feelings on the wedding for a while now.

  But looking at her, I realized that I really didn’t need to worry. Everything was going to be fine.

  “Mom, I absolutely love it,” I declared. “You’re the most beautiful bride that I’ve ever seen.” I threw my arms lightly around her, trying to hug her without ruining her dress. I’d seen the price tag–this thing was worth more than my damn life!

  “I just hope that it all goes okay,” her tone suddenly changed a bit, as she turned to face herself in the mirror. “It’s all a bit much.”

  Her confidence took a hit and another emotion overtook her expression. It was the first time since I’d returned from Camp Woodtree that I’d heard her express any doubt whatsoever, and it had me on edge. What did she mean “okay?” Where was she going with this? Why did all my certainty only a few seconds ago vanish like a trace with that one look from her?

  “What’s going on?” This was no time to beat around the bush. I needed to dive right into the center of the problem while we had this rare time alone. At home, there were always other people around. It was safe to say that it was now or never–if I didn’t get to the bottom of this, then chances are, I never would.

  “I don’t know,” she sighed deeply. “I just keep thinking… What if Brad isn’t right? I mean, I never had any of these fears last time; I knew that your dad was right for me. And look how that turned out.”

  “You were young then,” I tried to reassure her. “You had less concerns because you weren’t as aware about things.” Of course, I had no idea what I was talking about, but it seemed like the right thing to say. It seemed logical that wisdom and caution came with age at any rate.

  “I really did love your dad,” she said, refusing to meet my eye. My heart stopped as she spoke, and I felt like I was frozen in time. She never really discussed my father with me, so I wasn’t really sure to do with this now–it felt it had come from nowhere. An unexpected bolt out of the blue.

  “When he left me, my entire world fell away. I didn’t think that I would ever be here again. When I married him, it was life, and after him, I thought that was it for me.” She paused thoughtfully for a second. “I never expected to meet anyone like Brad.”

  I didn’t remember my dad at all; he left the family when I was only a baby, so if she was asking for my permission to move on, she really didn’t have to. It had been a very long time, anyway. It was definitely acceptable.

  Just because it had only been us forever, that didn’t mean I always wanted it to stay that way. My life would move on eventually anyway, and I never would have wanted to leave her behind–all lost and lonely.

  This might not have been my decision, but I didn’t think it was the wrong one.

  She was having cold feet; that much was obvious, but I was certain that was normal. I felt a wobble of confusion with every decision I made, never mind one as life altering as that! She didn’t need me getting into a debate of whether or not Brad was a good person right now–I didn’t know him well enough to make any decisions on that subject anyway–she just wanted confirmation that she wasn’t about to make a total fool of herself and that was exactly what I intended to give her.

  “Mom, I know I said that things were happening a little…quickly, at first, but you were right. When you know, you know, and you so clearly do.”

  She glanced over to me with hope shining in her expression. This proved to me that what I was saying was right, that it was exactly what she needed to hear.

  “I wish I’d had more time to get to know Brad a little better, but then there will be plenty of time for that afterwards.” I smiled at her, holding my hand over hers.

  Then some real emotions flowed from me, and I said something that I really did mean. “I’m proud of you, Mom; this is the first time that I’ve ever known you to put yourself first, and you really do deserve that.” She was beginning to well up, but I wasn’t quite done yet. “Mom, trust me…trust yourself. This wedding is going to go extremely well, and so will your marriage afterwards.”

  I knew that my mom was a smart woman, so if she thought this shotgun wedding would be all right, then so did I.

  “When did you get so wise?” she asked, wiping a stray tear from her eye. I shrugged, feeling a heat burn in my cheeks. I wasn’t wise, not at all, but if she needed to believe that I was, then I would let that comment slide.

  She sat in the seat next to me, sipping the flute of champagne that the shop assistant had left out for her, before Mom had asked her to leave us alone.

  “You know,” she turned to face me full on. “I always thought that you would beat me down the aisle. I assumed you would be married long before I met anyone again.”

  A weird feeling settled in my stomach at that prospect of her thinking about me getting married. It wasn’t something that I’d ever considered myself, so it seemed a little strange. Out of sheer embarrassment, I tried to change the subject back to her.

  “Are you happy, Mom?” I asked awkwardly, not really sure why I was dragging this up all over again.

  “I am,” she replied smiling widely. “I really am.”

  “Good,” I nodded sharply, trying to pretend that my mind was only on her, that I wasn’t thinking about her crazy wedding notions at all. “That’s all I need to know.”

  Then she stood up and returned to the mirror where she could get another good look at herself. She couldn’t help but grin at her reflection as she saw the way that the dress moved around her. It curled and swished as she walked, as if it had been tailored to her body perfectly. It probably had, for the money that Brad had forked out for it, but if that was the case, then it was definitely worth it.

  “I just hope that it doesn’t take you as long to find happiness as it has me,” she said in a breathy, dream like voice. “I hope that we’re back in a shop like this, picking out a wedding dress for you to marry the love of your life soon enough.”

  Her words had my stomach churning round and round in knots, until I felt like I could be sick. Why would she just assume that I wanted that for myself? Especially at this age–I am still in college, for crying out loud! There was no way that I was even considering finding my future husband, the man that I would spend the rest of my life with. That was a crazy lifelong commitment that was too far out of my grasp to even see.

  But all of a sudden, I found my eyes scouring the racks of dresses, just wondering which one I would like for myself. Mom’s wide, curvy dress was perfect for her, but I felt like something sleek and close fitting might be more me. I wasn’t the fussy, over-the-top type, and I would want my dress to reflect that.

  Then Mom turned to face me once more. “While we’re here, would you like to see your bridesmaid dress?” she asked, sending a shiver racing through my body.

  I was consumed by a thrilling chi
ll at the idea of seeing what I would be wearing. I’d only seen my dress in a photograph on her phone, so I knew that it was navy blue with a sweetheart neckline, but that was about it. There was nothing like seeing a dress in the flesh and being able to try it on.

  “Oh my God, are you serious?” I squealed.

  She shot me a smile, then called the shop assistant back. As the woman wandered off to find the gown I would be wearing, I found myself hopping from foot to foot in excitement, and before long, I was holding the silk between my fingers.

  “Wow,” I gasped happily. It was even better than I’d even been expecting.

  “Well come on,” Mom laughed. “I want to see it on you!”

  I raced into the changing room and put in on quicker than I’d ever dressed before. I just couldn’t wait to have the opportunity to see myself–especially in the really flattering mirrors. It didn’t matter how I actually looked on the day; that would be how I remembered myself.

  I stepped out back into the bright lights, where my mom instantly burst into tears. “Oh, Danica,” she cried. “You look beautiful. My gorgeous daughter.”

  I couldn’t help but think that she was right. The material hugged my curves perfectly, making me look elegant, but also a little sexy–in a very understated way, of course.

  “I love it, Mom,” I replied, suddenly more excited than ever for the big day to arrive.

  Chapter 12

  Rhett

  Urgh.

  When I thought back over the last few days, it was absolutely depressing. It was safe to say that my life since I’d returned from Camp Woodtree had gone from bad to worse. I’d been expecting to have a long, fairly lazy summer, but now I had to go and spend my days with my idiot father and my soon-to-be step-family. His new wife and her kid–probably some spoiled brat who would piss me off by spending all of my dad’s money. Cash that I never got to see a penny of when I was growing up.

  I didn’t want to go, not one fucking bit, but I couldn’t see what other choice I had.

  When I told Mom about Dad getting remarried, she wasn’t as upset as I thought she was going to be. In fact, she took the news surprisingly well and actually insisted that I should go and see the nuptials taking place. She said that made her points even more valid, and I would regret it if I didn’t see the wedding for myself.

  Fucking regret it? The only thing I regretted was allowing her to talk me into it. I was pretty damn mad about that.

  “So can you come?” James asked me excitedly. He was planning another trip away, white water rafting somewhere along the coast, and much as I really wanted to go, I just couldn’t.

  “Sorry, dude,” I replied glumly. “I’m going to see my dad.”

  “Really?” He replied warily, a reaction which I could understand. Until the other day, he’d not heard one word about my father in all the years that we’d been friends, and now all of a sudden, he was all I seemed to talk about.

  “Yeah, really.” I was trying to act like none of this bothered me, like I didn’t even care, but I wasn’t sure how much I was getting away with it. James knew me too well to be fooled. We’d been through far too much together for me to be able to pull the wool over his eyes.

  “Why? That seems a little…random,” he wasn’t normally a curious guy–he certainly never stuck his nose into other people’s business if he could help it–but this was obviously a step too far.

  “He’s getting remarried,” I tried to offer as an explanation, but clearly that wasn’t enough for James because he stayed frustratingly silent. “Mom has this crazy idea that maybe he isn’t an asshole anymore, and that I’ll regret it if he dies and I haven’t given him a chance…or some bullshit like that.”

  For some reason, this felt really uncomfortable to explain. It was probably because it was an emotional subject and something that I would normally choose to keep inside.

  “Well, maybe she’s right.” James was so obviously thinking of his own father, a very caring man who’d been nothing but good to his son. There was no way I could explain to my friend something he had no chance of understanding, but I wanted to at least give it a go.

  “Look, man, this guy left me when I was two and left me with nothing. He’s got freaking loads of money, but he left me and Mom without a penny.” I could feel the rage coursing through my veins as I spoke, remembering all the damage that he’d done to me.

  “Then, when I was eight years old, he showed up again. I was too young then to know that he was a dickhead, so I got excited to have him back. We were going to have weekly visits and everything–it was supposed to be the start of something new.” I could practically hear James holding his breath.

  “But then that was it–I never saw him again. I spent every Sunday sitting by the door, waiting for him to come, even though he obviously never was.”

  “I never knew any of this,” James mumbled sadly. Of course he hadn’t; I was too humiliated to tell anyone.

  “Then when I was fourteen-years-old, he reappeared. He promised that he’d changed and said he was willing to prove that. He offered to buy me a guitar, to help me get music lessons, then he told me that he would help me with some issues that I was having with my part-time job. He told me that he wanted to make things up to my mom, to get back with her, and I was stupid and naïve enough to believe it.”

  Sadness consumed me as I remembered that awful time. “Then one morning, as I was out for a jog I saw him coming out of another woman’s house. He was kissing her and his hands were all over her body. He lied over and over again, and although I never confronted him, he still vanished from my life again. He’s just a dick, James.”

  “Then why the hell are you going?” he asked, clearly exasperated. “Why put yourself through all of that again?”

  “I want to prove to Mom that he hasn’t changed. I need her to understand that I’m right,” I sigh deeply, deciding to be truly honest about my feelings. “I also want to prove to myself that all the years that I’ve spent hating him haven’t been for nothing.”

  I also knew that I was more grown up now, that it was much less likely that he’d be able to hurt me. I wasn’t the insecure child that I once was; I’d toughened up my emotions, so I felt ready to face him.

  “Right,” he sounded suspicious of my intentions, which was fair enough.

  “Look, I don’t trust that man at all and I want to use this opportunity to find anything tangible against him.” It might not have made sense to my friend, but I knew exactly what I was up to. “People don’t change, James. There is no way that this guy is better.”

  “That probably isn’t the case,” he tried once more, but I wasn’t going to be shaken. “But I hope things go…okay.”

  “Yeah, and I hope your trip is awesome.” I hated feeling so distant from my friend–this was the first time ever that I’d felt a separation about anything, but it couldn’t be helped. I knew things would be fine as soon as all of this was over. As soon as I was proven correct, our friendship would be right as rain, that’s just the way we were. “See you soon.”

  As soon as I hung up the phone, I couldn’t help but shake my head. That boy really didn’t have any idea about my life at all. I wouldn’t have been able to make him see my point of view if we’d talked for hours.

  After that, I started to pack, unable to find any excuse to put it off any longer. I grabbed t-shirts and shorts idly, without even really looking at what was going into my bag. It was hardly going to matter what I looked like, anyway; I wasn’t exactly going there with the need to impress anyone. I almost made the decision not to pack my suit, just to be stubborn, just to prove to myself that I wouldn’t even consider actually going to the wedding ceremony, but I decided against it at the last moment, just in case.

  It seemed that maybe there was a small part of me that doubted myself, after all.

  But just imagining that prick becoming a better man was something my mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

  I’d only told James the out
line of my complicated relationship with my father because the truth of it was much more painful. Being constantly picked up and dropped, brought up then let down, it absolutely crushed me and it had turned me into an untrusting person. It had formed negative traits, and I hated that he’d managed to have that much control over me.

  Then I thought of Danica, just for a second, and the emotion swelled up inside of me once more. She was the one person that I’d let in for a very long time, and I’d really opened up my emotions to her. It had been wonderful and liberating, but then even she’d blown me off in the end. She still hadn’t contacted me, and it seemed like she was never going to.

  I was slowly convincing myself that it was time to forget about her, to pretend that she never existed, to act like our romance was a dream. But I couldn’t quite bring myself to delete the one photograph I had of her.

  Maybe it was me, maybe I was completely unlovable.

  Knock, knock.

  I knew that tentative knock on my bedroom door: it was my mom and she was feeling guilty.

  “Come in,” I sighed, desperate to see her before I left. Mom had always been the one constant in my life–the one who hadn’t let me down–and I loved her for that.

  Her face peeped around the corner, and she shot me a little smile. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked me. “Are you all ready to go?” The fear was emanating off of her, making me feel awful.

  “I think so,” I nodded, trying to keep my feelings inside. I didn’t want her to feel bad, even if she was really to blame that I had to go. I knew that she only had my best interests at heart and wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t genuinely believe it would be good for me.

  Okay, she might be wrong, but that wasn’t important. I would come back with evidence of that, and then we could put this whole issue to bed forever.