Make Me Choose (Bayshore Book 4)

by Ember Leigh

  “Well, thank you,” I tell him, grinning over at Weston. “I couldn’t have done it without my second shooter.”

  “I notice these things. I see weddings every day of the week, practically. Which brings me to my main point.” Edward laces his fingers together, leveling us with a professional look. “I want to offer you both a job.”

  “A job?” I squeak.

  “Head wedding photographer.” Edward gestures toward Weston. “Second shooter. Steady salary. Plenty of perks. And enough weddings to keep you occupied for the entire wedding season.” Edward tilts his head, lifting a brow. “What do you say?”

  My eyes have gone so wide that I think they might pop out of my head. “Are you serious?”

  “This isn’t an offer I make lightly. But also, it’s not something you should decide lightly, either. Take some time to think it over. I have a contract here, which you’re free to peruse at your leisure. I have just one small request.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I need an answer by tomorrow morning.”

  A breath whooshes out of me. I receive the packet of papers that Edward has pushed my way. Weston hasn’t said anything in what feels like a millennium, and his face is totally devoid of emotion as Edward hands him a packet, too.

  “I know it’s short notice. But we’re working on a deadline here. These weddings stop for nobody.”

  “I understand,” I tell him, gazing at the cover page of the contract with reverence. “We’ll take some time to think about it and let you know.”

  Edward smiles and thanks us, and we all shake hands before we’re ushered back into the lobby and Edward is on his way to his massage.

  I don’t even make it ten steps before I begin flipping through the contract, looking for anything related to pay.

  On page seven, I find it.

  Because really, there’s only one thing that matters here. Will they pay me enough to support myself and my gram?

  And the answer is yes.

  The pay is just a smidge higher than I’ve been making with senior portraits. It’s not a huge pay increase, but it’s enough to keep both me and Gram fed, housed, and happy from our different corners of the globe.

  Which means that I already know my answer.

  I’m ready to fucking sign the contract.

  Chapter 26

  WESTON

  I’m losing my shit over here.

  With a job offer in my hand, a potential long-term girlfriend at my side, and more feelings than I want to fucking admit breathing down my throat, all I can think is, I fucked up.

  I fucked up.

  I caught feelings. And now I might not be able to catch my flight tomorrow.

  “This is incredible.” It’s the tenth time she’s said it. She’s holding the contract to her chest as we sit on a big bench looking toward the ocean. She’ll probably go to sleep with it clutched there, and I can’t say I blame her.

  This is exactly what she needs.

  For her life.

  Not for mine. Right?

  She’s blinking and holding the contract out in front of her again, as if checking for the umpteenth time that it’s not a mirage.

  “It’s not going anywhere, babe,” I tell her, pressing my lips to her temple. Because I can’t not still treat her like this while she’s near me.

  I might have fucked up, but when she’s sitting next to me, I want to keep fucking up. Which means that the only way I can get my head straight is to get the fuck off this island.

  “Can you believe it?” It’s the fifth time she’s asked me that.

  I laugh despite the repetition. “I couldn’t the first four times you asked me, but I now I can.”

  She giggles, bringing the contract back to her chest. She sighs, eyes glittering as she looks out over the beach. Amelia and Rhys show up a moment later, squeezing our shoulders. As soon as Amelia asks what Nova has in her hands, it starts off a chain reaction of Oh my gods and Can you even believe its.

  Rhys listens intently as Nova shows off the contract, nodding and looking over at me. I can see the question marks in his eyes. They’re the same ones in my heart.

  Of course I can stay here and do this job with Nova. The question isn’t even if I want to, because I already know I do, deep down. The question is: Should I?

  “You really did such a good job,” Amelia is saying. “They’d be stupid not to have someone like you on staff.”

  “Though I bet the other couples won’t get wedding-crashed by the wild pigs,” Rhys adds, elbowing me.

  “Unless that’s a feature you two chose and paid for beforehand and never mentioned?” Nova asks with a laugh.

  “I don’t remember selecting the wild pig add-on,” Amelia cracks. “But who knows? The wedding planning process was a blur, so maybe I did add the ‘get sniffed by a feral pig’ option without realizing.”

  “If you blow up any picture to make into a quilt, please let it be that one,” Nova says.

  Keko and Elliot arrive next, which sets off another round of good news sharing. I smile and try to focus, but I can’t stop thinking about Thailand.

  I’m supposed to be there in two weeks. I’ve been fantasizing about the hustle and bustle of Chiang Mai for too long to remember. Mountaintop temples have been whispering in my dreams for months. Cliffhangers hasn’t confirmed anything yet, but I have the surest bet of making something of myself if I go there.

  And that’s how it has to be. Every tug on my heart telling me to chill in Aruba for a little bit longer feels like a betrayal. I wasn’t supposed to fall for someone in Aruba. I was supposed to see my best friend off into the next chapter of his life and then continue on my way. Because true success lies just over the hill. I can practically taste it. I haven’t been working this hard, this long, on my influencing career just to let it evaporate on Eagle Beach in Aruba.

  The sad truth is that if I don’t make influencing work, then what the fuck else do I have to show for myself?

  I can already imagine the my father’s scorn as I tell him I’ve decided to try on a photography gig in Aruba. The sidelong looks from my brothers. The quiet snort from Grayson as he asks me for the fiftieth time in my life, “What do you do again?”

  I’m so fucking sick of coming in last. But only one place will turn that around: Chiang Mai. As my friends joke and chat around me, I pull up my email one last time, refreshing for the millionth time over the past week. Still no email about the promo tour.

  Fuck.

  “Don’t you think?” Rhys asks me, clapping me on the back.

  I look up at him. I didn’t hear a word of the conversation around me. Everyone laughs at the joke I’m not in on.

  “Sorry guys,” I say. “Zoned out.”

  “I said the two of you should wear matching outfits,” Rhys repeats.

  “For what?”

  “For the photography gig,” Rhys says. He’s had to repeat himself, so the joke isn’t funny anymore. But it wasn’t funny to begin with; he doesn’t know that I can’t stay.

  “Right.” I force a laugh. Nova’s smile dims slightly. After less than a week, she can already read my fucking thoughts, which is yet another sign I need to leave.

  One more day. Flight is tomorrow.

  It’s supposed to be a relief, but it’s not. Not entirely, at least. I’m a jumbled mess, and I can’t tell if I need to dive headfirst into the ocean or just spend these last hours buried inside Nova. Rhys and the gang head off to the pool for the last time, leaving Nova and I alone on the bench once more.

  “You okay, Weston?” she asks.

  “I’m fine. Let’s go back to the huts.”

  “Don’t you want to go to the pool with them?”

  I shake my head. “I’d rather spend these last hours with you. Inside you, specifically.”

  She tilts her head, something unreadable flashing across her face. I don’t get the laughter I was expecting. Instead, she nods and stands up.

  “Yeah. Let’s just go fuck.”
<
br />   “I mean…it’s not a bad idea, right?”

  She shrugs, avoiding my gaze. “No. It just lets me know where I stand with you.”

  I can’t help the sigh that escapes my lips. “That’s not what I mean. But you and I are parting ways in less than eighteen hours. Why wouldn’t we want to be with each other as much as possible?”

  Finally, her green eyes drag up and find mine. There’s hurt and confusion and so much more shimmering there. And I know I’ve caused all of it. “This doesn’t have to be the last night, you know.”

  I clench my jaw, looking out over the ocean. I don’t want to have this conversation. I just don’t. There’s no easy way to explain the acid knot in my chest. I want to stay here, and that’s why I can’t. Because if I’m going to carve out meaning for my life, it has to be on my own. Otherwise, none of the other pieces will fall into place.

  “Don’t you want to do something like this?” she presses. “I mean, you haven’t even looked—”

  “Nova,” I snap. “You need to give a guy more than a half hour with something like this. This is a big deal. I know you’re over the moon, but I’m not you. Can’t we just enjoy our last evening together and talk about it later?”

  She bites her bottom lip and nods. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s fine. Let’s just forget about it.” I drag a hand through my hair, eager to recapture anything related to feeling lighthearted or horny. But right now, both are mere concepts. I hate how worked up I am, how unsettled this has made me, and even more than that, I hate that it’s getting in the way of these precious last hours.

  “Promise.” Nova pushes up onto her tip-toes to give me a kiss, then offers a reassuring smile. “I want to enjoy this evening too.”

  “Yeah?” I slide my hands over her hips, jerking her against me. Tendrils of lust curl through me, reminding me of that lighthearted state I’m trying to reach. “How much?”

  “So much that there isn’t even a word to describe it.” A smile curls at her lips, and when she looks up at me again, I coax a deep, hungry kiss out of her. Horniness: activated. I grunt, squeezing her hips.

  “Well that’s convincing.” I press my forehead to hers, one last flash of reason searing through me. You should start detaching now. Run away. This is ending, which means it’s already over.

  But I can’t. Not when she’s in front of me. Not when she’s looking at me like I’m the only man she’s ever fucking wanted in her entire life.

  She makes it too hard to stay away. Which is why I need to make the plane do the heavy lifting come tomorrow morning.

  “I can do plenty of convincing once we’re alone in a hut,” she says with a smirk.

  We lace our fingers together and walk back to the huts, going to mine because that’s where the condoms are. Once we’re inside, she shuts the door behind her, eyeing me like she’s starving and I’m the best damn piece of cake she’s ever spotted.

  “You’re looking at me like I’m dessert,” I crack. She strides toward me, her gaze stuck between my legs. tugging my shorts down in one swift motion. Once my cock is freed, she pushes me at the chest so that my butt hits the bed. I bounce softly, watching expectantly as she falls to her knees.

  “You are dessert,” she says, eyeing my cock. The mere attention has me stiffening, as if that gaze alone is made of sexy whispers and firm strokes. “One I’ve never tried before.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” I say as she presses kisses up the tops of my thighs. My cock has gone fully hard now, the tip bulging and waiting for the heat of her mouth. I swallow hard, tilting my head to watch as she grows closer, closer to the prize. “You’ve had dessert plenty while we’ve been here.”

  “No. I’ve never tasted dessert,” she clarifies, and then suddenly dips down and takes the entirety of my cockhead between her lips.

  My fingers knot in her hair. “Oh, fuck.”

  She presses soft kisses up and down my shaft, looking at me with amusement dancing in her gaze. “Good fuck?”

  “Excellent fuck.”

  She does it again, which makes my thighs rock hard and my abs turn to stone. Nova wraps her lips around me and takes a long pull—well, as much as can fit into her mouth without gagging. Fingernails scrape up my legs as her head bobs between my legs, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a prettier sight.

  She sucks my cock until my balls tighten and I’m fucking close to blowing it in her mouth. But that’s not exactly how I want this to go. She’ll choke; I’ll feel bad. I can already tell it won’t end well.

  Really what I want to do is get her on top of me again. That moonlight fuck was so epic for so many reasons, but the best part of all? Seeing her ride me like a motherfucking goddess.

  I need that again. So yes, she can suck me off, but I need her on top as many times possible before my flight tomorrow morning. Which means this might very well be the last time ever.

  Just thinking the word ever makes my chest tight. I groan and cup the back of her head.

  “Babe,” I say through gritted teeth. Even though I want her on top, it’s hard as hell to make her stop slurping and slobbering.

  “What?” She looks up at me, her lips puffy. “Is it okay? I mean—”

  “Get on top of me.”

  “What?”

  “I want you on top. Riding me.” I pull her to standing and then gather the skirt of her sundress at her waist. “Also need this off.”

  “Okay, okay.” She’s smiling as she tugs her dress off, and when she’s in the full, glorious nude, I take a second to admire her.

  “What?” she asks, pushing on my shoulders. But I don’t fall back on the bed. I just drink her in. All the soft curves and lines of her. Her belly and thighs and those breasts that I would one hundred percent choose to asphyxiate in if someone offered me a chance to play select-your-own-death.

  “Just looking at you.”

  “Haven’t you seen enough?”

  I press a soft kiss to the swell of her belly. “Nope.”

  I can tell the attention makes her uncomfortable, and I’m not trying to make her not enjoy this. But I’ve never been with someone like her before. Someone who turned me on so completely, so effortlessly. She’s a babe in every sense of the word, and maybe even more so because she barely fucking realizes it.

  “Come here.” I scoot back onto the bed, guiding her to climb on top of me. My thumb finds her clit, and she inhales sharply as I massage the tight bud. Once she’s bucking and her nipples are hard as diamonds, I slip the condom on, and then she’s crashing down, down, down around me. My cock is enveloped by the unyielding silk of her pussy, and everything goes hot and loud inside me.

  The view from below is too sexy. The feel of her clenched around my cock is too sexy. And because her lips around my cock were too sexy, I have to use every last bit of restraint not to end this within the first thirty seconds. I grab big, juicy handfuls of her ass as Nova rocks and rolls against me. Her eyes flutter shut. Low moans escape her, the type of sound that tells me she’s fucking loving this.

  When I see the first shudder of her orgasm, I know it’s safe for me too. I drill up into her until that throaty whimper blesses the air, and then my abs go rock solid and I’m groaning so long and loud that surely someone from the resort is going to come investigate.

  By the time I’m done being bitch-slapped by the pleasure, Nova has collapsed on top of me, her chest sweaty against mine. I wrap my arms around her, pressing lazy kisses to the top of her head.

  There are so many hours left in this day, but they’re not enough. I want more.

  And the fact that I want the remaining hours to bleed into weeks and months means that this needs to be the last time between us.

  Or else I’ll never be able to walk away from this woman.

  Chapter 27

  NOVA

  Weston and I float between galaxies after our orgasms, laying naked on his bed, staring up at the ceiling of the hut as we laugh and tease
and talk.

  The truth is, I wish I could stay in this spot forever. Not necessarily this hut—surely they’d start trying to kick us out by tomorrow afternoon once the wedding reservation ended—but here. With Weston at my side, his easy energy and his quiet, clever barbs, and oh so many of those soft, passionate kisses. Sometimes when the man looks at me right, it’s like everything I’ve known up until that moment comes crashing to the ground. The cells of my body prepare themselves to rewrite my history, because none of what came before matters anymore. As long as I’m here with Weston…that’s all I need.

  And I want this to continue being the case. I know we got a huge offer and he needs time to think it over, but I can already see how amazing it would be for both of us. How much of a chance this could be for us to stay together and satisfy all our needs—like paychecks and Caribbean sunsets and frequent stargazing sex—all at once.

  But every minute that goes by without addressing the big issue of will you stay or won’t you feels like an interminable wait.

  My phone rings. It’s my gram. I hurry to answer it.

  “Gram! How are you?”

  “Waiting for your cute tush to get back home!” Her laughter is crackly. “Aren’t you on the plane yet?”

  My heart sinks. In all my blinding excitement, I forgot about the part where I’d have to let my grandma down gently. How it might not be even half as exciting for her as it is for me. Maybe she’ll encourage me to nix the idea altogether.

  “Not on the plane yet,” I say, coming to sitting so that I can reorient myself in the regular world. Weston stands and begins dressing. “Actually, you know, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Just promise me you won’t tell Mom and Dad yet.”

  “Oh, lordy,” she groans. “You found the shark, didn’t you?”

  I snicker. “Or was it a pirate?”

  “Either one is dangerous. Or is that the whole point? Ohhh, I don’t know! You tell me! What’s the secret? You know I can’t keep my chops quiet for long, so I’ll give you a day before I start blabbin’ it to the neighbors.”