by Jill Shalvis
“You got an email,” he said. “Someone named Poppy has the numbers on the new business and the perfect apartment for you.” He paused. “In New York.”
Oh. Oh, shit. “I meant to tell you about that.”
“Before or after you said you wanted me to move back home?”
“Poppy’s my old college roommate,” she said. “And, yeah, we talked about starting up our own event company. The deal was that we each come up with a proposal for our prospective cities and then talk. I didn’t commit to going to New York.”
“But you thought about it.”
“I did,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going.”
Diego turned away. “You’ve got to do whatever you’ve got to do. Same for me. I’ll be heading out of here right after the wedding.”
She ignored the way his dismissive tone sliced right through her. Or tried to. But it was impossible to do so because, in spite of their off-the-charts chemistry in bed, he was once again not putting her first. “So, you saw an email, and just like that, you’re ready to bail,” she said. “Again. Do I have that right?”
“Actually, the first time, you bailed.”
“No, Diego,” she said, voice tight with anger and frustration. And sadness. Damn, so much sadness. “You did. In fact, you’ve had one foot out the door since the beginning, even when just last night you let me think this was going somewhere.”
His expression was closed-off, eyes hooded, jaw set, mouth grim. “We’re not going to have a long-distance relationship and let it fade away like it did before,” he said.
“Well, you’re right about that. We’re absolutely not going to have a relationship,” Daisy said, looking for her clothes, which were still on the floor. Damn. Hard to be righteous and strong when you had to bend over wearing nothing but a man’s t-shirt to pick up the clothes you’d strewn to Hell and back the night before. “And just FYI, back then, nothing faded away,” she said tightly, pulling on her tights. “You checked out.”
“I apologized for that,” Diego said, his voice low and rigid. “And I meant it. I screwed up, and I know it. But I thought we had something, something good that we were going to work for.”
“So did I,” she said. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe the reason I hadn’t told you about the NYC thing is because I wasn’t going to go?”
When he just looked at her, she shook her head. “Good to know that you’ve got faith in me. I’m not doing this with you again, Diego. This is more than a stupid misunderstanding. This is mistrust, a deep mistrust right at your core. And I can’t fix that. I can’t change that. And I won’t live with it, not ever again.” She was trying not to cry, giving up on figuring out how to get her bra on beneath his shirt, which she wasn’t going to take off. Yep, she was going to Lyft home in a man’s thankfully very long t-shirt, tights, and boots.
As soon as she got in the last word. “Last night, you let me think that you relocating here might be for me, but that clearly wasn’t true. If you’re trying to get me to understand that I’m not now—nor will I ever be—your first choice, message received.” She stopped to realize that she’d just picked up his socks, not hers, and threw them at him. They may or may not have hit him in the face. She zipped up her boots and turned in a circle, grabbing her remaining items. Her dress. Her bra. Her purse.
“Daisy—”
“No,” she said, snatching her phone from the counter and opening her Lyft app. “If I was really important to you, you’d say, ‘hey, you know what? We’ll make this work no matter what. And hell, I can even come to New York if that’s what you need to do.’”
Diego suddenly seemed just as angry as she was. Actually, she could have sworn that she saw a flash of something else in his dark gaze. Fear. But it was gone in a blink. “The only person in that scenario giving anything up is me,” he said. “And I’m done with giving up everything for the people in my life.”
Something in the way he’d worded that had her stop, checking herself. Then she realized…it was the same way he’d described having to come home after only a semester of college when he’d had to drop everything—his entire life—to come back and take care of his dad. “Diego,” she said, her voice softer. “I’m not asking anything of you. I don’t want anything that you don’t freely give.”
His expression didn’t budge, and with a shake of her head, she started to walk out. But she stopped and met his gaze one last time. “I want you to know that I really wasn’t keeping the new business plans from you. I’d already decided I wanted to stay here, in the city. Good luck in San Diego.”
“When did you make that decision?” he asked.
“Not that it matters, but I decided the night you came to my house and asked me what happened between us. And you know what? If back when your dad had gotten sick, you’d wanted me to stay with you, I would have. I’d have given up everything to be with you. I even asked if I could, and you said no. You had to bear the burden alone. You never asked me to stay. And now I know why. Because if you had, you couldn’t be the martyr right now, standing there all righteous and blaming me for all of this.” And with that, she walked out.
Daisy exited the boat and strode up the docks, getting a text that her Lyft was pulling into the lot. The only thing to go right so far.
Chapter 10
Diego couldn’t have said what he did with the day. It was just getting dark when he once again found himself standing outside Rocco’s door. When his brother opened up, he looked surprised before sliding a look past Diego, clearly looking for something.
“What?” Diego asked.
“Where’s Daisy?”
Already on shaky ground and not really sure why he was there, Diego shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Okay. It’s only the eve of my wedding, and you’ve lost my wedding planner. No big deal.” Rocco met his gaze. “Why do you look like someone just died?”
“Babe, don’t badger him on the doorstep,” Tyler said, coming up behind Rocco. “You invite him in so we can badger him with some privacy.”
They led Diego to the kitchen where Tyler had a full spread of food going. He piled a plate sky-high and handed it to Diego, who shook his head. “No thanks.”
“Shit,” Rocco said, taking the plate meant for Diego. “If he’s not hungry, something’s really wrong. What did you do?”
Diego blew out a breath. “Pissed her off.”
“You could do that by breathing.”
Tyler shook his head at Rocco. “Okay, so you pissed her off, and then you...what? Just let her go?” Tyler asked.
“Well, yeah,” Diego said. “It’s not like I had options. I couldn’t make her stay and talk to me.”
“Oh, honey,” Tyler said in a tone that said he really meant you’re such an idiot as he shook his head. “I mean, you’re right, you can’t make a woman do anything she doesn’t want to do. Or anyone for that matter. But you could have tried to make her want to stay and have it out with you. Women need to feel appreciated and adored.” He flashed a quick smile at Rocco. “Well, some men do too, but I’m told it’s a non-negotiable requirement for a woman.”
“What did you do?” Rocco asked.
“I thought she was going back to New York,” Diego said, lifting a shoulder. “Acted like a dick.”
Tyler clucked his tongue. “It runs in the family.”
“I’d say I’m insulted, but…” Rocco reached out for Tyler’s hand. “It’s totally true.” He met Diego’s gaze. “Tell us everything.”
“Things were…good,” Diego said. “I thought we were going to get together and make it work this time. She asked if I was going to move back here—”
“And?” Rocco asked, leaning forward, eyes sharp. “What did you say?”
Diego shrugged.
“What does that mean?” Rocco asked.
“I said I’d stay…for her.”
“But not for me?” Rocco asked.
Tyler gave Rocco a long look.
&nbs
p; “Right,” Rocco said. “This isn’t about me. Go on.”
“This morning, I saw an incoming email of hers,” Diego said. “About a job and an apartment waiting for her in New York.”
“Don’t tell me,” Tyler said. “You pulled the asshole card and made assumptions.”
Diego didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He was sure the answer was all over his face.
Rocco shook his head in disgust. “Rookie.”
“Hey, you don’t get to talk to me about this,” Diego said, pointing at him.
Rocco knocked Diego’s finger away from his face. “And why the fuck not?”
“Are you kidding me?” Diego asked. “You left me. You fucking flew off to a tropical beach and got laid—” He slid Tyler an apologetic look. “No offense.”
“None taken, honey.”
Diego nodded and went back to Rocco. “And you never came back.”
“I apologized for that,” Rocco said quietly, sincerely.
“I know. And I’m over it. I am,” Diego insisted. “But Dad left me. Mom left me. And I just watched the only woman I’ve ever loved walk out the door. And I get it. It’s not the people in my life. It’s me.” He stood up.
Rocco did the same, catching his brother at the door, spinning him back to face him, giving him a shake. “It’s not you.” In a surprise move, he pulled Diego into him for a hard hug. “It’s not you,” he said again fiercely.
Diego let out a rough breath but found he couldn’t draw another one in because of Rocco’s grip.
“Babe, please don’t accidentally suffocate our best man,” Tyler said. “Now, both of you, come back and sit down. Eat.”
And what Tyler wanted, Tyler got. They sat. They ate. And after, Diego looked at Rocco. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?” Rocco asked innocently.
“Whatever it is you still haven’t told me. It’s got to be big, given that you’ve managed to keep a secret.”
“Hey, I can keep a secret.”
Both Diego and Tyler laughed.
“Fine,” Rocco said. “It’s about the prewedding stuff you’ve been handling for us with Daisy…”
“Yeah? You need something else?”
Tyler put a hand to his heart. “That you’d even ask right now is precious. But, no. We’ve got a confession.” He looked at Rocco.
Who grimaced with…guilt?
“We’ve been trying to get you and Daisy speaking again,” Tyler said. “That’s why we kept throwing you two together for all those made-up errands. Because near as we can tell, neither of you have been happy in a long time.”
“Made-up errands? You mean the cake tasting, the suit, the bands?”
“Yeah.” Rocco blew out a breath. “I made those all up. Did you really think we didn’t already have our shit together only a few days before the wedding?”
Diego blinked. “Shit. I don’t know, I know zip about weddings.” He paused, and his gut tightened. “Was Daisy in on it?”
“No,” Rocco said. “She planned a beautiful wedding for us, and then a few months ago, Tyler and I saw an opening, a way to get you home. So, we told her we were scrapping our plans and starting over. We lied to her, saying we were making big, last-minute changes and needed her help.”
Diego stared at him and then Tyler, then he looked back at Rocco. “It was all a ruse?”
“Yeah,” Rocco said. “And you screwed it up.”
Tyler put a hand over Rocco’s and gave a small head shake before turning to Diego. “You didn’t screw it up. At least, not the wedding. The wedding’s all perfectly planned. The Daisy thing, though…”
Diego looked at Rocco. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that she was lonely, and the last person she loved was you. And that I missed you, dammit…”
“He thought he was helping,” Tyler said.
Rocco nodded.
This caused a sigh to escape Diego. “You did,” he admitted.
Rocco met his gaze, his eyes now having some hope in them. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Diego shook his head. “If you hadn’t become a meddling, gossiping, nosy body, I’d never have reconnected with her.”
The look on Rocco’s face was priceless, and Tyler laughed. He laughed so hard he had to sit down. “I’m pretty sure my two-hundred-and-fifty-pound biker badass fiancé has never once in his life been called a meddling, gossiping, nosy body.” Tyler swiped tears of mirth from his face. “Priceless.”
“It’s not fiancé,” Rocco muttered. “After tomorrow at our wedding, it’s husband. I’m going to be your meddling, gossiping, nosy body husband.”
“And I’m looking forward to it, babe,” Tyler said and kissed him.
Diego turned to the door.
“Wait, where are you going?” Rocco asked after breaking off the kiss.
“If you can get your life and shit together,” Diego said, “then so can I.”
He went straight to Daisy’s. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t at her office either. Nor did she answer his embarrassing number of calls and texts. He ended up back at her place and sat outside her door for a few hours before he figured out that she wasn’t coming home.
For a minute, he thought maybe he’d chased her right out of town and back to New York, which would suck and suck hard. But he knew she wouldn’t go anywhere until after the wedding.
* * * *
Daisy had done what she always did when the going got tough. She buried herself in work. Even though she felt as if she’d been run over by a freight train, she headed to the office. Carol took one look at her and said, “You got dumped.”
Daisy supposed Carol must know the feeling in order to recognize it, but she shrugged. “I’m fine.” Actually, she was pissed-off. She’d lost the love of her life for the second time, which was devastating.
But she’d survived before, and she’d survive now.
So, she sucked it up. She reapplied mascara and then went offsite to visit two of Carol’s important, high-profile clients, which had thankfully taken her the rest of the day.
The next morning, she woke up knowing that she should be excited about Rocco and Tyler’s wedding in a few hours. She lay in bed and tried not to remember how much more fun it was when Diego was in it with her.
And for at least the thousandth time since yesterday, Daisy reminded herself that she was no longer thinking about him.
Except, she was.
A lot.
All the time.
She’d been hasty to run out on him. She knew his past, knew that he had abandonment issues. She could have tried talking to him about things instead of acting like the rash teenager she’d once been.
She showered, dressed, and told herself that the goal for the day was simple: keep herself as busy as possible so she wouldn’t have to look at Diego. Shouldn’t be a problem with the huge wedding they’d decided upon, in a massive ballroom of their favorite San Fran hotel.
Daisy was just about to leave to get herself to the venue—two hours early to make sure things were playing out as they should—when she got a text from Rocco that said: change of plans.
She stared at the message as a new one came in with an address and the following cryptic words: come here instead.
Okaaaaay. She tried calling Rocco, but he didn’t answer. Nor did Tyler. So, she went to the new address. The Lyft let her off in the beach parking lot.
The. Beach. Parking. Lot.
What the actual hell? Since neither groom was answering his phone, she walked to the lookout and stopped at the top of the stairs. Below and off to the right in a natural alcove between the water and the rocks stood a wooden archway lined with flowers. In front of it was a small aisle, delineated with stones.
No chairs.
She could see three men. Rocco, Tyler, and Harris, a dear friend of the grooms’ who’d married several of their friends. The backdrop was the Golden Gate Bridge, gorgeous enough to steal her breath.
Not understanding—wha
t had happened to the big wedding they said they wanted?—she started to go down the stairs when a hand settled on her arm and gently turned her around.
Diego.
He was in a suit, but in no way had it tamed him. He still looked as wild as ever.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Damn heart.
He spoke first. “It’s Rocco and Tyler. It was all a ruse,” he said. “To get us back together.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Daisy. I screwed up. You are the most important thing in my life. You always have been. I just haven’t shown you that. Let me show you now. I get that it’s probably ten years too late, but I have to try.” He gave her a small smile. “I quit my job in San Diego. I’ve got two choices now. I can go to work for Jake, running and managing his fleet, or I sell my boat and buy a bigger one. In New York.”
She gasped. “What?”
“Wherever you land, wherever you decide you want to be, that’s where I want to be, as well. Because I pick you. I will always pick you. You have my word on that. I love you, Daisy.”
She felt the breath stutter in her chest, and she was pretty sure the bones in her legs had just melted. “I’m not going to New York. Poppy and I are going to start our own company, but we’re going the bi-coastal route. Her there, and me here.” Daisy drew in a deep breath. “I want to be with you,” she said, never having meant anything more. Except for maybe one thing. “I love you too, Diego.”
Tyler came jogging up the stairs to them, looking wonderful in his tux. “Oh, baby,” he said, looking at Daisy’s dress. “It’s perfect. I need you to be my bridesmaid.”
Rocco was right behind Tyler, looking like he was afraid to be too happy. “And I need my brother at my side. Are we all okay?”
Daisy pulled Rocco in for a hug. “More than. Thank you,” she whispered fiercely. “For being such a sneaky bastard.”
Rocco kissed her and looked at Diego over her head, clearly needing his brother’s reaction.
Diego nodded. “You are a sneaky bastard. But…you’re the best sneaky bastard I know. We’re also all okay.”
