by Cathryn Fox
“We need to talk,” he says quietly. I nod in agreement, ignoring the storm roiling through me, and he adds, “Let me get rid of the condom first.”
My pulse pounds in my throat as those alarm bells jangle once again. I know what he wants to talk about, and he’s right. I need to come clean to his family, now. I can hear them downstairs, their voices a little louder than normal. What’s all the commotion? I guess I’ll soon find out.
With Will still in the bathroom, I get up, torn on what I have to do. I pull on a pair of sweat pants and a shirt. Then I close my suitcase and zip it, worry sitting like a huge rock in my gut. I stand my suitcase up, take a step toward the door, but it swings open. When I see George standing there, along with his immediate family, my heart crashes against my chest.
Oh God. No.
George’s gaze locks on mine, and he holds his phone up. “I got a strange message from Will last week. Something about my surprise. I texted back, but he never answered.”
“I…uh…he’s been busy,” I say for lack of anything else. Busy having sex with me, but I’m certainly not about to say that.
He angles his head. “The ship docked early, so I came straight home, and Mom and Dad also informed me my surprise was here…” His words fall off as his gaze roams over me in a closer examination. “What are they talking about, and who, exactly, are you?”
My stomach nosedives, but I take a deep breath to fuel my courage. “Ah…ugh,” I say. “I’m not who any of you think I am.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I hear a collective gasp from the hall.
George takes a tentative step toward me, his eyes narrow. “What the bloody hell is going on here?”
I look at Claire, the others, and take in their confused expressions. “I’m sorry,” is all I’m able to get out, tears pricking my eyes. Everyone has been so nice to me, and I’ve been doing nothing but deceiving them. I don’t deserve their friendship or love. Then there’s Will. I’ve fallen so hard for him, despite trying not to. A noise crawls out of my throat, fight or flight instinct kicking in.
Just then Will comes back from the bathroom, stark naked, and goes still when he sees everyone at the door. “Shit,” he says, and rakes his hand through his hair, disappearing back into the bathroom to grab a towel.
“Will?” George says, his eyes going impossibly wider.
“What’s going on here?” Ned, George’s father, asks. “You’re sleeping with George’s girl?”
“She’s not my girl, Dad,” George clarifies.
“But we all thought she was.” Ned shakes his head and goes on to say, “Including Will.”
Oh God, this is bad, so freaking bad.
George glares at his cousin. “Jesus Will, you slept with a girl you thought was mine?”
“Look, it’s not like that,” Will says quickly. “I was just protecting you.”
“By sleeping with a girl posing as mine for reasons I haven’t figured out yet?”
“No, you see,” he says, clearly flustered, “I was out to prove she was a gold digger and—”
“Is that what you are?” George asks, cutting Will off as he turns to glare at me. “Were you here to clutch on to any guy in the family?”
“No,” I say around the knot in my throat. But why would they believe that? I’m not the type of girl this kind family would embrace. I’m just a girl from the streets of Brooklyn. I’m not used to castles or horses or any of this. I don’t fit here. I never did and shouldn’t have been kidding myself. I’m not the girl this family could fall for. “This was all a mistake.”
A big huge mistake that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Unable to take in the pained and confused faces, I grab my suitcase and dart past them, and when I get to the main level and find Gramps standing there, an equally perplexed look on his face, I say, “Can you call me a cab please?”
Chapter Nine
Harper
I press the phone hard against my ear, like somehow that will stop the tears from spilling down my cheeks, but it’s pointless. The stupid tears have been falling for a week now, ever since I fled London and returned home. I have no right to cry. The mess was all mine. I should have hightailed it out of the Winston castle as soon as I found out I was on the wrong adventure.
On the other end of the line, Piper is trying to console me, but I can’t keep my thoughts on her when all they want to do is travel to Will and his family. I’d hurt them, and that was the last thing I ever wanted to do.
“Harper, are you still there?”
“I’m here,” I say and push off the sofa. I walk to the window and look at the cars on the street below. As I stare into the distance, I hear a child’s giggle come through the phone. Must be Maddie, the little girl Piper was supposed to babysit but fell in love with instead. “Tell me more about Lucas and Maddie,” I say, wanting the conversation off me and onto her. My heart wobbles a little to know Piper found the love of her life in Greece and now has a small family of her own.
“No, this is about you,” Piper says.
“How could I have been so stupid?” I ask. “Putting our names in a hat was a ridiculous idea.”
“Not really,” she says. “We all found love. Even you.”
I snort as two cars pull up in front of my building. Dropping the curtain, I walk through my condo. I used to enjoy the quiet, the solitude of the place, but now, after spending time in a castle full of people, the place feels lonely. My heart thumps, and I fight not to throw myself on my bed and curl up into a ball of self-pity.
“Tell me again about the adventure I was supposed to go on,” I say to Piper, even though she’s already told me. Apparently, I was supposed to go to 52 Yorkshire Lane. Piper hadn’t screwed anything up. I was the one who’d accidently given the driver the wrong number.
Which, in the end, turned out to be the right number, because what I found at 25 Yorkshire Lane changed me in so many ways, and was much better than a haunted castle/murder mystery adventure for singles.
“Call him, Harper. Tell him how you feel.”
“I can’t do that. It’s been a week. If he wanted to talk to me, he would have reached out.”
“Maybe he’s saying the same about you.”
Was that possible? Did I dare hope that he might want more and was waiting for me to make the first move?
What if I did make the first move, only for Will and his family to reject me? I don’t think I could go through that pain and humiliation again. Better to just set my sights on the future, one without any of them in it.
Since when did you become such a chickenshit, Harper?
“Do it, Harper. Go after what you want. I bet Will is hurting as much as you are. Go after him. Show him what a great woman you are. He’ll welcome you with open arms. I’m sure of it.”
While I’d like to do just that, Will only asked for a week of sex, and I told him I wanted the same. I’m not going to go after something that wasn’t mine. I wasn’t supposed to let my emotions get involved or fall for his family. God, the disappointed looks on everyone’s faces when George said I wasn’t his surprise still haunt me. How could I ever look at any of them again, when they all likely hate me? If I am wise, I’ll forget the adventure ever happened.
I grab my laptop and open Instagram. Will hasn’t posted anything. Is he home, as miserable as I am, or has he moved on? My intercom chimes, but I ignore it—I’m in no shape for visitors—as I run my finger over his picture and my heart thumps.
I love him.
Chapter Ten
Will
It’s been a week since Harper took off and headed back to the United States, and in those seven days, I scrambled to find out her contact information. Her firm wouldn’t give it out, but with the help of a private investigator, I finally tracked down her place. I’d wanted to go after her when she flew out the door, but my family stopped me, demanding answers. I couldn’t let them think the worst of Harper, so I told her story, and they all softened because she’d found her w
ay into their hearts. Then I used those extra seven days to coordinate things—sometimes with my England family it’s like herding cats—and prepare to do things right with Harper this time.
Now, here I am, standing outside in the cold, repeatedly pressing the button to her condo. Either she’s not answering, or she’s not home. Regardless, now that I’ve found her, I’m not in a hurry to go anywhere—not unless she’s with me.
I pace on the front walkway and glance at the two cars parked on the curb, all the people inside staring at me with wide eyes, wondering what I’m doing, no doubt. Finally, a pizza delivery guy comes by, and I follow him in. The crew in the cars all jump out, and I hold the door for them. The delivery guy doesn’t bother giving any of us a glance as he makes his way to the elevator, and I head to the stairwell. I’m in too much of a hurry to wait for the elevator. I take the steps two at a time, and my heart pounds hard as I stand outside her door and raise my hand to knock.
I pause for a moment. What if she doesn’t want to see me, won’t listen to what I have to say?
I shake my head. Nope. Can’t think like that. I have to make her see things my way, and I’ll plant myself right here on the floor until she does. I knock. Hard. I hear footsteps on the other side of the door, then all goes silent. I stare at the peephole I can only assume she’s looking through.
“Open the door, Harper.”
I wait another long-ass minute, and when it doesn’t open, I say, “Open the door unless you want me to pound on it for the next few hours until your neighbors call the cops.”
The lock clicks, and she slowly opens it. My heart crashes when I take her in, dressed in sweat pants and a T-shirt, her hair pinned up in a sexy mess like she’s been working all night, and all the love I feel for her comes rushing to the surface.
“We need to talk.”
“Will?” She blinks once, then twice, like she’s trying to figure out if I’m real or not. “What…what are you doing here?” Her lids flash rapidly, and she crosses her arms—a defensive move. Christ, does she think I’m here because I’m angry with her and the way things played out? Doesn’t she realize how crazy I am about her?
I wave my hand back and forth between us, a new sort of desperation racing through me. I can’t lose her. I just can’t. “We need to talk. You and me. That night after we made love, I told you before I went into the bathroom that I wanted to talk, and you took off, leaving me standing there in nothing but a towel, before we had the chance to speak.”
“I thought you wanted to talk about me confessing to your family, and I had to leave you like that. Everyone was standing there, accusing me of things…and I…I didn’t mean to hurt them, Will.”
My heart aches as tears pool in her eyes, and I pull her to me. At first she’s stiff, but then she softens in my arms. I kiss her forehead. “What I wanted to talk about was you and me,” I whisper into her ear.
Her body tightens. “It was a week of sex, I get that. You don’t owe me any explanation.”
“I owe you an apology.”
She shakes her head. “For what? I’m the one who should be apologizing to everyone.”
“You don’t need to, but that’s entirely up to you if you feel strongly about it. First, I need to say I never should have made such an improper proposal. It was wrong of me.”
She steps back her expression confused. “You mean about keeping my secret and having epic sex, again and again, until my trip was over?”
“Yes.”
“I agreed to it, Will. I wanted it, too.”
“The question is, do you still?”
“I…we…we agreed to sex only.”
“How stupid of me,” I say. “Any proposal to you should be a proper one.”
“I don’t understand.”
I drop to one knee. “I knew you were special the first time I laid eyes on you, and I know this is quick, and I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but I also know a good thing when I see it. I’m crazy about you. I want more than sex. I want everything. More importantly I want you to trust that I’m not like the guys from your past, that I’m not going to be here one day and gone the next.”
“Will,” she cries as I pull a box from my coat pocket. “What…what are you doing?”
“Proposing, properly. Will you marry me, Harper?”
She steps back, leaving me there on my knees, and my heart sinks as she holds the door like she’s going to close it on me—on us.
“Wait,” I blurt out. “Please don’t.”
She gulps as tears fall down her face. “I can’t, Will. Your family. They hate me, and after the stunt I pulled, I can’t blame them. How could I ever be with you after that?”
“Answer me one question. You owe me that much.”
She nods. “Okay.”
“Do you love me?”
She stands there for so long, her eyes locked on mine, fear crawls its way into my heart. Maybe she doesn’t really feel the same way as I do. Maybe blaming my family is her way out. Jesus, fuck, please tell me I’m not wrong about us, that she does care about me as much as I care about her.
“Yes,” she finally whispers, and I let loose a breath of relief.
“Good.” I stand, turn around, and gesture with a wave. A second later, my entire England family, along with my mom and dad, who’ve yet to meet Harper, opens the door to the stairwell and comes racing toward us.
“Oh. My. God,” she shrieks as they bombard her, much the same way they did when she first landed on their doorstep. “What’s going on, Will?”
“They all insisted on coming.”
“I don’t understand,” she says as she’s passed around, everyone hugging and kissing her and welcoming her back into the family. When she reaches my mom and dad, I do the introductions, and from the look on my parents’ faces, it’s clear they’re going to love Harper as much as the rest of us.
When she reaches George, she freezes. “I’m really sorry, George.”
“It’s okay,” he says with an easy shrug.
“Why don’t you tell her what your real surprise was,” Will says.
“Just that I was getting of the military and going to law school.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”
“And, also, that I met someone,” George says.
“Oh, who is she?”
“Rupert Walker. I’m gay, Harper.”
“That was the real surprise,” I say, laughing as I pat my cousin on the back. “And I kicked his ass for keeping it from me for so long.”
“Oh,” Harper says, chuckling along with me. “When do we get to meet him?”
“Soon enough.”
Harper has a little grin on her face when she lifts her head, her eyes meeting mine. “Did you test him the way you tested me, Will? You know, to see if he was a gold digger?”
It takes a second for the meaning to register, then I laugh, and everyone joins in. “George is on his own this time, but I’m pretty sure he found a good one.”
Harper blushes and lowers her head. “I’m so sorry, everyone.”
“Nonsense, child,” Aunt Claire says. “We all understand.”
“In a way, it’s sort of Gramps’s fault,” Harper says, a sparkle in her eye.
“What’s that?” Charles says and pushes through the crowd.
“Well, you did think I was George’s surprise, and assumed I was his girl.”
“Best mistake I ever made, child,” he says, and Harper beams as he pulls her in for another hug.
She sniffs, and Charles puts his hands on her shoulders. “What are the tears for?”
“You have all been so nice to me, and I…I love you all.”
“Well, you’re family, child,” Gramps says.
“Technically, she’s not,” I say. “She hasn’t answered my question yet.”
I step toward her, and everyone moves back to give us space and privacy. I go down on my knee again and ask, “So what do you say, Harper. Will you marry m
e?” She opens her mouth, but I hold my hand up to stop her. “Before you answer, you have to know…” I pause to jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “These guys all come with me.”
She lets out a big hiccupping cry. “Yes,” she says, and before I can slide the ring on her finger, we’re both bombarded with hugs and congratulations.
When the fuss dies down, I finally put the ring on her and say, “I can’t decide.”
She blinks up at me, the huge smile on her face warming my heart. “Oh? And what can’t you decide?”
I lower my voice, for her ears only. “If we should all go out and celebrate, or if you and I should stay in and have our own private party. Your birthday is almost here, and I believe I owe you twenty-five spankings.”
Her face turns pink. “Will,” she says and smacks me as chuckles come from behind me, then she goes up on her toes, puts her mouth to my ear and says, “We can do both. We have the rest of our lives together.”
“Yeah, we do, don’t we,” I say as I gather her into my arms and kiss her with all the love inside me.
Epilogue
Snow falls softly outside as I look around the rooftop bar I rented for our New Year’s Eve party, the first reunion since I had us all put our names in a hat two years ago. Warmth settles deep in my bones as I take in my friends and family as they catch up and sip champagne. I swallow against the tightness in my throat, my heart so full of love I’m sure it’s going to burst. I chuckle softly to myself, pleased with the way things have all turned out, as a big hand slides around my waist.
“There you are,” Will says, and brushes his lips over my neck. A fine shiver of need zings through my blood. I lean into my husband, my back to his chest, and absorb his warmth. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look in this dress?” he asks.
I glance down at the little black number I’m wearing. “Only a million times.”
“How long before I can get you out of it?” he asks, his voice a bit gruffer.
I laugh and check my watch. We’ve been married for four hours now—a quaint New Year’s Eve ceremony with family and friends—and while I’m excited to head to our honeymoon suite, I can’t leave before midnight.
