Make Me Choose (Bayshore Book 4)

by Ember Leigh

  “I caaaaan’t,” she wails.

  Weston steps closer to me, so close that I feel his breath against my ear as he says in a low voice, “I’m here to make things right. And that will include fighting for your honor again. So just tell me if Stupid Oaf is one of my foes.”

  It’s not fair. He’s been here for thirty seconds and already he’s got me en route to a puddle on the floor. I try to suppress the giggles that are so ready to slide out of me, willy-nilly. “Not a foe. Just unfortunately the only available second shooter on the island.”

  He lifts a brow. “Actually, there’s suddenly a new second shooter who became available. Not sure if you’re interested in his services, but…”

  My heart starts racing, because part of me is convinced this is all a mirage.

  “Are you even listening?” Jenna demands. “I’m getting married, not you two!”

  I sigh tersely, looking around for Matias. When I spot him lingering in the bushes, I bark, “Matias! Give Weston your camera. You’re off for the day. Have fun.”

  Matias doesn’t even question the directive, just mumbles something and hands off his camera to Weston and leaves. Weston dons the camera, and I click into work mode. I’ll deal with his surprise appearance later. For now, we’ve got a bridezilla to marry.

  Jenna manages to safely wipe away her tears from the thirteen layers of makeup, and her bridal party assembles in front of her. The bridesmaids begin walking down the white-carpeted aisle. Weston and I scatter further along the walkway, snapping pictures. Every so often I catch his gaze waiting for me, and my heart flutters so much that I feel like I’ll need to call for a physician.

  I can’t believe he’s here. I just hope it’s to stay.

  The rest of the wedding goes off without a hitch, though I think some of that is due to Weston’s bizarre powers of calm and organization. When I brush his arm during group photos, I nearly have an orgasm. So the sexual chemistry is still alive and well. Possibly more alive than ever.

  Which means that I need to proceed carefully. He’s left me before. He could leave me again. Working alongside him for an entire evening without talking things over is a weird way to reopen this story between us, but there’s not much we can do. And for however weird it is, it’s somehow right. By the time our duties wrap, I feel like we’ve solved everything without having said a word. I’ve acclimated to his energy again, and I can never be away from him.

  I need him. The previous three weeks away from him have proven this, I only realize now that he’s back.

  While Jenna and her new husband are grinning at each other on the dance floor, Weston and I excuse ourselves from the party. We walk side-by-side down the brick path leading toward the beach, the silence bloated between us.

  “Can we—” he begins.

  “Let’s go—” I start at the same time. We both shut up, and then I try again. “Where are you staying?”

  “At a hostel down the road.”

  I nod, looking out at the dark ocean. “How long are you going to be here?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have a return ticket.”

  Hope springs to life inside me, though it shouldn’t. But before I can begin counseling myself on that, Weston takes my hand in his. His rough thumb goes back and forth over my knuckles as he speaks.

  “So you just came back since I need you for the job, right?” I can’t help the snarky comment that flies out of my mouth. Weston crumples visibly, squeezing my hands.

  “I fucked up when I left. I wasn’t nice, and then I left without saying goodbye—”

  “Yeah, that was extra not nice,” I confirm.

  “When I was home thinking about things, I realized that I really had fallen head over heels for you even though I hadn’t wanted to. And I started reevaluating everything and…” He trails off, looking out at the ocean. “I realized that if I’m going to chase after anything, it should be to build something epic. With someone I love.”

  My heart is racing so fast I feel like I might pass out. Because these words are the stuff of fantasies. “Yeah? Build what?”

  “Build an empire…or enterprise…or an inground pool in the back of our little Aruban cottage…I don’t know. Those are just some ideas.”

  My smile is nearly splitting my face in two, but it’s fun to play dumb a little longer. “Oh. And who is the someone you love?”

  Weston’s smile grows wider. He drops my hand so that he can slide his hands over the swell of my hips. Feeling him enveloping me again is almost too sweet to bear. My throat is tight as he presses himself against me, his lips brushing against my forehead as he speaks.

  “It’s you, Princess Nova. I fell so hard for you I split my front teeth, but still denied it even when I had blood running down my chin.”

  I snicker. “That’s both romantic and gory.”

  “It’s in the graphic novel I started about our love story,” he whispers, dragging his lips across my forehead. “I’ll show it to you. I brought it.”

  My eyes flutter shut. “Stop. I can’t handle too much more good news.”

  “Oh. Well, just let me know when you’re ready for more good news then. I don’t want to overwhelm you, and I have a ton of additional things to tell you about.”

  His fingertips travel down the side of my face and along my jawline, tilting my head back. When I open my eyes, his intense gaze is waiting for me. I fist the back of his shirt, rooting myself in him, waiting for the surge of passion to happen.

  Because lord, I know it’ll happen. It’s inevitable with him. With us.

  “Okay, I might be ready,” I say, and then he presses his lips against mine in a long, slow kiss that stops time altogether. “But tell me first: did you bring the necklace?”

  “Of course.” His voice is a sexy rumble, one that provokes as much as it calms.

  I don’t know how he does it. Weston is laid-back and fast-paced at the same time. He makes the world spin faster yet will also point out things that stop time, like the constellation-gazing while we fucked on the beach. This kiss is no different. It’s like someone pressed fast-forward and reverse at the same time, so in response, the DVD player just exploded. Except I’m the DVD player.

  I whimper, and he kisses me again. His tongue presses against my lips, urging them open, and of course I comply. Our tongues meet in the middle, tentative yet hungry. His hand slides to my neck, fingertips digging into the back of my head. Claiming me. Possessing me. Utterly completing me.

  We kiss so long and so indecently that it takes a random passerby commenting, “Didn’t you rent a room for that?” before we break the kiss and come to our senses. From the way his jaw flexes, I can tell he’s battling impure thoughts that might make it hard for him to be seen in public.

  “I want to build something with you, Nova. If you’ll still have me.”

  My throat tightens. “I don’t know. I’ve got a really good thing going with my second shooter.” Weston’s fingertips dig into my hips. “He’s barely functional most days and actually fell asleep once while I was talking to him.”

  Weston’s grips relaxes. “Ah. Yeah, that sounds really hard to top.”

  “Super hard. Matias set the bar high.” I look out at the ocean again, pretending to consider his offer. “Even higher when I accidentally saw his dick on the camera reel.”

  Weston’s grip goes tight again. “Okay, so this means I can fight for your honor again when I see him next?”

  I giggle, unable to suppress it any longer. “You can do whatever you want, Weston. I’m just so damn happy to see you again.”

  He scoops me up into a tight hug, and we stay like that for a long time. When he finally releases me, he says, “I’ve had time to think. And plan. And dream. Those are the things I’m good at, I guess. And I don’t want to interrupt what you’ve got going on here. But I’ve had some ideas for the future. For our future.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a little business called NovaWest Deigns,” he says, pressing
a kiss to the tip of my nose.

  “Hmmm. Sounds great. What do they do?”

  “Wedding and event photography. Special sunrise sessions. And, in a surprise twist, boudoir photos.”

  I laugh, slapping at his chest. “Oh, come on.”

  “I’m serious. I’ve got a whole business plan drawn up. Three of them, actually. I never wanted to put down roots, Nova, but since I met you, I’m ready to fucking stay.”

  I’ve never heard better words in all my life. The truth is I don’t know where our future leads, but it doesn’t matter. As long as I have someone at my side who wants to collaborate, who wants to envision the next best thing?

  That’s all I need.

  “I love you, Nova,” Weston whispers against my lips. “I love you so much that it doesn’t make sense.”

  “I love you too, Sir Weston,” I say, tears pricking my eyes. And then we kiss, for the first of what is sure to be a billion times in our conjoined lifetime.

  Aruba just got so much better.

  Because we’ll be in it—creating, living, and laughing—together.

  Epilogue

  ONE YEAR LATER

  NOVA

  “Oh my goodness,” I whisper, peering out the passenger window of the car. We’ve been driving for an hour and just passed the WELCOME TO BAYSHORE sign. “We’re finally here?”

  Weston nods, looking proud and sexy-as-fuck as he steers our over-the-top rental sports car. What can I say? We’ve had an amazing first year of business on the island. Weston wanted to opt for the sports car, and I couldn’t say no to the idea of zipping around in this sexy black coupe for the next month.

  He pulls off the highway, the humid lake air filling the car with a fresh, intoxicating scent. The streets turn tree-lined, and as we pull onto side streets and head toward the heart of downtown, I can hear birds chirping and kids playing in the distance.

  It’s a big difference from what I’ve gotten used to over the past year. Since Aruba is technically a desert island, it has forests of spiky cacti instead of maple and oak trees. We have to water our little orange flowers in front of our Aruban cottage three times a day just to keep them alive. I found out the hard way when I killed all our pink flowers the first time around. I’m not sure they’ll still be alive by the time we get back. Even though we’ve asked our amazing elderly neighbor, Annamiek, to water those babies each day, I’m just not sure they can survive without my constant worry and attention. I guess I’ll find out when I get back.

  I gasp, pointing at a stately brick building with a big sign reading BAYSHORE HIGH SCHOOL. “Is that where you graduated?”

  “Every single one of us,” Weston says, downshifting as we come to a stop sign. Swear to god, my panties get wet just from witnessing that little maneuver. We haven’t had a car on Aruba, though we have had plenty of other things—residency visas, checking accounts, our own business, tons of sex in front of our own little slice of Aruban cottage ocean access.

  Weston’s little reminder of the fact that I’m about to meet the whole family sends butterflies through my guts yet again. I’ve been looking forward to this trip since we realized it could become a reality about six months ago. That’s when our own photography business, NovaWest Designs, really took off and became profitable. Not just profitable as in, we can feed ourselves. But holy crap we found our niche profitable, where we can eat, and rent a sports car on our actual vacation, and help pay my family’s debt, and live permanently on a tropical island without issue.

  Oh, and did I mention? Gram lives in my backyard now. That’s right. Our Aruban cottage comes with its very own mother-in-law suite, which in this case is the Gram suite. She lives with us half the year, and in New York half the year. When I seriously presented her with the idea of spending some of her year in Aruba with us, she bit the bullet and swallowed all her pressurized cabin fears. Turns out, she loves flying now. She just flew back to New York—by herself—last week and sent me a selfie from the VIP lounge because she somehow managed to sneak in.

  Most days, I can’t believe this is real life.

  “We’re almost there,” Weston says, excitement shining in his smile. I love seeing him like this. Excited to share his life with me. Actually, I’m not sure which one of us is more excited. This is our official meet-the-family tour—two weeks in Bayshore, two weeks in upstate New York. I have already met one of his brothers, Grayson, when he and his fiancée Hazel visited us a few months back for a winter getaway. Hazel and I spent most of their trip drinking wine spritzers and trading stories about dating a Daly boy. Well, and I gifted her a boudoir shoot. Because that’s the other exciting part of life with Weston. He’s always innovating. Not only do we schedule wedding packages, there are add-ons that include personalized graphic novels created by Weston and bonding sunrise packages, where we take intimate, gorgeous photos and even top it off with a little partner yoga.

  And yes, Weston and I have mastered the art of standing up together. Finally.

  We pull into a neighborhood of tightly packed cottages and lush, manicured lawns. He slows and pulls into a driveway that is already mostly full with SUVs and BMWs. We take the last open spot, and before we can even get out of the car, there’s a shout from the front door.

  “Weston’s here!”

  I step out just as Weston’s mother rushes toward me. We’ve video chatted a few times, and she’s all smiles. She wraps me in a big hug, cooing, “Hellooo, Nova!”

  Weston appears at my side a moment later. “Jeez, Mom. Make it obvious who you love more.”

  She tuts and releases me, all smiles for her son. “You stop it. I love all my boys and daughters-in-law equally.”

  Weston shushes her. “We’re not married yet,” he says as he pulls his mom into a tight hug. My eyes widen slightly. Yet. What an invigorating and promising little addition. We’ve talked about marriage, but only briefly as a someday thing. But still, I’ve known since day one—well, maybe day three—that this man is the best match for me in this world. I, too, have a perma-grin as the three of us make our way into the Daly home.

  Their house is warm, inviting, completely Midwestern lake chic. Voices drift from deeper inside the house, and once we cross into the kitchen, I realize this is already a party. The entire backyard is full of people. I spot Grayson and Hazel, but Weston swoops me along with him and begins making introductions. There’s London and Dominic. Connor and Kinsley. Their dad, who is grilling hamburgers with a serious face, offers his hand for a handshake. Maverick lurks in the far corner of the backyard, wearing a tight black T-shirt and black jeans, even though it’s mid-July and hot as hell. When a blonde waif slinks into the backyard and links her arm through Maverick’s, Weston explains to me that she’s less girlfriend and more flavor of the week, but Maverick felt like he should fit in for this Daly couples’ party.

  Appetizers sit on the picnic tables and everyone is lost in jovial conversation and catching up. I’m whisked away into conversation with Hazel, joined by London, and eventually Kinsley, who is wearing the cutest sunflower print shorts I have ever seen. We try to involve Maverick’s gal pal, but she seems uninterested in leaving his side.

  When the next round of drinks is brought out, Weston appears at my side. “Hey, let’s video call Gram.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah. Can you?”

  I fumble to extract my phone from the back pocket of my denim shorts. “Yeah, I mean…I guess. What’s the urgency?”

  “Just call her. Make sure it’s video.”

  I’m perplexed by the urgency, but I do as he says. Gram picks up immediately, almost like she was ready and waiting for the call.

  “I’m here,” she says. “Actually, we all are.”

  “All of you?” I ask. She fumbles with the camera, swearing under her breath as she struggles to flip the camera. My mom and dad are sitting in chairs in my gram’s living room. “Oh, hi, Mom and Dad! What is this all about?”

  “Don’t say nothing,” I hear Gram warn my
parents.

  “Weston,” I start, looking over at him, but he’s gotten everyone gathered into a group behind me. “Uh, what’s going on?”

  “Let me put this over here.” Weston deftly swipes the phone from my hand and sets it up on the picnic table nearby, angling it so that it captures me and the family behind me. He comes back over to me, draws a deep breath, and then looks toward the phone.

  “Is this good?” He offers a thumbs-up to the camera, and my gram shouts, “Perfect!”

  “Weston—” I try again, but my reason and abilities are slowly unraveling as the seconds tick on. This was pre-planned. Everyone is smiling and anticipating something, and I am somehow the only one left out. All signs would point to some sort of big question, but I can’t force my brain to synthesize this, so it just cycles in the same broken loop.

  “Nova,” he says, his fingertips sliding down the length of my arms. “I really wanted all of our loved ones to be here for this.”

  “For what?” I ask breathily, but I already know. Tears have already sprung to my eyes, and I will absolutely dissolve as soon as he asks that lurking big question.

  Weston slowly drops to one knee, holding my hands in his. He kisses the knuckles of both hands, looking up at me with so much tenderness that I start crying. Already. Before he’s even said anything.

  “Nova,” he begins.

  “Yes!” I shout.

  Weston dissolves into laughter, wiping away a tear. “I didn’t even ask anything!”

  “Then why are you crying?” I’m openly crying now. And I feel like this is just so indicative of our relationship. We’re so close—closer than I’ve ever been to anyone, closer even than my gram—so of course I’d accept his marriage proposal without him technically making it.

  He laughs into his hand for a moment, then wipes at his face and starts again. “Nova. This is supposed to be serious.”

  “Fat chance of that,” Gram cackles from the video call.

  More laughter escapes him, but he pushes ahead. “I think we just demonstrated for both of our families that we are completely, hopelessly perfect for each other. A year ago, I was terrified to dive into what we had between us, because I thought that falling in love would disrupt my life. But I was so, so wrong. Falling in love with you made my life epic. Living with you, growing with you, starting a business with you, has been the adventure I didn’t realize I needed. Tell me we can be on this adventure for the rest of our lives, babe. Marry me.”