Nobody's Prince Charming (Road to Blissville, #3)

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  “Maybe he does. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

  “No, Wren! Don’t go there with my fairy-tale heroes and heroines!” He wasn’t joking either.

  “I’m sorry, Sparkles. I didn’t mean any offense.”

  “It’s okay,” Dare reassured me. “Some things are too precious to sexualize like my Disney characters and Santa Claus.”

  “Santa Claus?”

  “There’s porn for everything, Wren.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe my ignorance. “Back to my story.” Dare pinned me with a look that warned me not to interrupt him again. Fuck, I crazy loved him. “Anyway, that’s kind of how you’re smiling right now at people. You’re showing a lot of teeth.”

  “So, it’s not a shock that I know how to smile? I just have big, ugly teeth?”

  Dare dropped his head to the kitchenette table and sat there a few seconds. When he raised his head, he was mostly composed. “I never said they looked big and ugly.”

  “Sharp then?”

  “You have perfect fucking teeth, Ruler!” Dare had started calling me that after he learned the significance of my name. He said I ruled both his body and his heart. I fucking liked it a lot. I called the bedroom we shared the Fortress of Fuckery. “They’re just not used to seeing them because you usually only give those smiles to me. Maybe I should be hurt that you’re sharing them with the world now. Just doling those smiles out all willy-nilly like for just anyone to see.”

  “I smile for you and because of you.”

  “Oh,” Dare said, covering his heart with his hand. “That’s a good one, Ruler.”

  By this point, I stopped pretending to live anywhere other than Dare’s house. I’d spent every night in his bedroom wrapped around him while we slept. More often than not, I woke up with him plastered to my side with his leg thrown over my hip so that I couldn’t escape him. I had no intentions of running from him ever again. He was my fairy tale, happily ever after, and whatever else romantic people called it. Moving in together just seemed like a natural progression to me. I didn’t see a need for a big discussion, but Dare wasn’t on the same page.

  He bought this amazing cock ring that had tiny little bullets that vibrated my sac. He too had his very own little remote and loved to torture me by bringing me right to the edge before he let off. The first time he used it was to get even for me spying on him and Andy at the house across the street. I kind of laughed Dare off that he wouldn’t get a confession out of me, but I sang like a fucking canary. I would’ve done anything to come. He used the same tactic to convince me that I should move in with him.

  “How can you trust that I’m living here for the right reasons after you coerced me?” I asked after I came hard enough to rupture a nut.

  “Coerce you?” Dare scoffed. “Baby, this was a promise of good things to come.”

  “Oh,” I’d said seconds before I lapsed into a deep sleep.

  The next morning, Dare looked hesitant when he came down for breakfast. “Are those pancakes?” he asked, sniffing the air.

  “Blueberry,” I told him. “I thought it was an excellent way to commemorate our big moment.”

  “About that, Wren…”

  I slid the last two pancakes on our plates and carried them to the table. “Having second thoughts this morning? Buyer’s regret?”

  “Not me,” Dare said, rolling his eyes. “What about you?”

  “Dare, do you seriously think you could convince me to move in with you if I didn’t want to be here? You know me better than anyone, or at least I thought you did.”

  “I do,” he rushed to say.

  “That’s a line best saved for another day,” I teased. It was my turn to get nervous when Dare turned pale. I thought he might blush prettily, but the opposite happened.

  “Um…” I wasn’t sure how to back away from my mistake. “I forgot to get the butter and syrup out of the refrigerator.”

  “Butter?” Dare asked. “Who eats butter on their pancakes? It ruins the taste of the syrup.”

  “Um, everybody eats butter on their pancakes with the syrup because it enhances the taste, not ruins it.” I shook my head as I walked away.

  “I draw the line if you put ketchup on scrambled eggs, Wren. I mean it,” Dare declared. “I can’t live with someone who desecrates something as delicious as scrambled eggs.”

  “Gross,” I said. There would be times that I would do something just to get a rise out of him but putting ketchup on scrambled eggs wasn’t one of them. “How do you feel about salsa on eggs?”

  Dare tipped his head to the side and pondered my question for a few seconds. “I can live with that. I would even try that myself.”

  “Then I see no reason why this can’t work between us. We love each other and are committed to this relationship. We’re mature adults who know what we want.”

  “We are, and we do.”

  “I want to fall asleep beside you every night and look at your face every morning. I want to be the person you turn to when you want to vent, celebrate, cry, or make love.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Speaking of fucking—”

  “You said ‘make love’ not fucking,” Dare pointed out.

  “Same difference.”

  “It’s not and we both know it.”

  “When it comes to us it’s the same,” I countered. “When I fuck you, I do it with love. Therein lies the difference.”

  “Therein?”

  “I know words, Dare. I have depth.”

  “Mmmm hmmmm,” Dare replied. “Eat your breakfast so we can explore your depth.”

  That was how we confirmed that the discussion we had during sex was still valid and we both wanted the same thing. Neither of us commented again on my “I do” remark, even though I knew that every day I spent with him was one day closer to saying it again. Only the next time, we would be wearing something snazzier than sleep pants and T-shirts, there would be considerably more people to bear witness, and those two words would hold significantly more meaning. Life was uncertain, I’d learned that the hard way, but giving Dare the fairy tale he dreamed of was an absolute certainty.

  The first step in securing an amazing future was healing my broken past. I started that process the night I cried in Dare’s arms when I talked about my mom and really let myself mourn her loss. I took another baby step forward when I extended a tiny olive twig toward Alaric the night we showed up at the same restaurant on the river. It wasn’t enough though, I needed to do more.

  On a sunny day in mid-March, Dare and I went to Alaric and Samantha’s for dinner. It was a surreal moment when Alaric answered the door barefoot in ratty jeans and a T-shirt. I wasn’t looking at the man who broke my mom’s heart, or the Rock King, I was looking at my dad. Alaric held my infant brother, Tobias, in his arms who smiled and shook his fists in the air.

  “Toby says hello,” Alaric said.

  “Oh my gosh, you are so cute,” Dare said, using a voice a person reserves for babies and animals.

  “Do you want to hold him?” Alaric asked.

  “Sure,” Dare replied, holding out his arms. “I love babies.”

  “Come on in and let’s have a drink. Sam is in the kitchen putting together some appetizers before the main course is finished.”

  “We didn’t want her to go to any trouble,” I told Alaric as we followed him through the large house. Mansion wasn’t the right word because the house wasn’t pretentious, but it was grander than anything I’d ever seen up close and personal. “We would be happy with pizza.”

  “Nonsense,” Alaric responded. “We’re happy to do it. Besides, I’m the one making the main course. I have a pork roast in the smoker as we speak. Sam handled the appetizers.”

  “We brought dessert,” Dare added, and I held up the cake carrier. He had insisted, and my dad reluctantly agreed. “It’s my grandmother’s carrot cake recipe. Trust me when I say that you’ll never eat cake as good as this.”

  “Sounds delicious.”r />
  Samantha was working at a massive kitchen island. It had a sink in the middle and high-back stools that lined the opposite side.

  “Hey, guys,” she said happily when she looked up and saw our approach. “Tobias, did you make a new friend already?”

  “I’m not sure he likes my hairstyle,” Dare said. I looked over and saw that Tobias had two fists full of Dare’s hair. “He thinks I need a new stylist.”

  “Everyone’s a critic,” I teased. I reached over and patted Tobias’s back, and he jerked his head around to look at me. I would swear that the kid was sizing my hair up too.

  “You better tie that back if you want to have any left when you leave here,” Alaric said, gesturing to his ponytail.

  “Are you guys hungry?” Samantha asked. “I have ham, cream cheese, and jalapeño roll-ups, shrimp cocktail, and a fruit and cheese plate.”

  “It sounds delicious,” I told her. “We haven’t eaten since early this morning and the salon was a zoo today. Rather than ruin our appetite for dinner, we decided to grind it out.”

  “Oh, I can’t do that,” Samantha said, shaking her head. “If my blood sugar gets low then you better watch out.”

  “I have the scars to prove it,” Alaric said, kissing her on the cheek.

  “More where those came from if you don’t watch it.” Alaric nuzzled her neck then with his beard and made her giggle. Samantha kept giggling and elbowing to get him to stop. When he finally did, she looked over at me. I could tell she was unsure what my reaction would be to the obvious affection between them.

  “If he’s like me, the back of his thighs are particularly ticklish spots. You can probably get him to agree to anything if you use it to your advantage,” I suggested to her.

  Samantha’s relief was swift and palpable. “I know all about that one already.” She winked and gave me one of her genuine smiles. “I like you.”

  “I like you too.” Just like that, the tension was gone, and it was like it had never existed.

  After appetizers, Samantha took us on the tour of their new house. “We’ve only been in here a few weeks, so we’re still adjusting to where everything is. It still doesn’t feel like home yet. I don’t know why that it is.”

  “Can I be blunt, Samantha?” Dare asked.

  “Sure,” she said.

  “As beautiful as this house is, it doesn’t feel like you and Alaric.” He held up his hand. “Granted, I don’t really know either of you that well, but the home lacks the warmth I associate with you.”

  “That’s what I said to Alaric, but he pointed out that we’d hired an interior decorator who put this together after meeting with us. To be fair, I did approve the designs.”

  “Not all designers are created equally,” Dare said. “It’s the same with any profession. You really need to get to know your client’s likes and dislikes. Take these for example.” He gestured to some beige-looking throw pillow. “I would’ve added a teal or jade pillow in there for contrast. Maybe even a deep purple.”

  “Wait, are you a designer?” Samantha asked.

  “That’s what I went to college for, but I haven’t engaged in the business as much as I had hoped.”

  “He started his own business though,” I told Samantha. “Charming Designs.” I nudged Dare because this was a huge opportunity for him. “Tell her your tagline. It’s adorable and Dare is a very talented guy.”

  “Wren,” Dare said under his breath like he was embarrassed by my compliments.

  “Creating castles one room at a time,” I told Samantha.

  “That is cute,” she said. “Everybody has a fairy tale.”

  “So I’ve heard,” I replied, but I only had eyes for Dare who was still holding a sleepy Tobias. I knew I was looking at my future and it made me deliriously happy.

  “Dinner!” Alaric bellowed from the kitchen. “This meal is to die for.”

  “I hope he doesn’t mean literally,” I whispered to Dare as we followed Samantha to the kitchen. Dare elbowed me in the ribs and shushed me.

  Alaric’s smoked pork was as epic as he promised, better even. I couldn’t remember the last time I had anything so good. I looked at Dare and said, “Babe, we need a smoker for the house.”

  “Have you two officially moved in together?” Alaric asked. A few months ago, I would’ve looked for a hidden slight in every word. I was doing much better at taking his words at face value.

  “We have,” I told him. “It seemed silly to pretend that I wanted to be anywhere else.”

  “That’s so sweet,” Samantha said then turned to my dad. “You’re the songwriter, but you never say sweet things like that.”

  “I put them in the songs that I write for you,” Alaric said.

  “True,” she conceded. “You do have a way with words.” To me, she said, “Keep up the good work, Wren.”

  After dinner, Dare and I offered to do the dishes. Of course, they declined, but we didn’t listen. We just started gathering dishes and carrying them to the kitchen anyway.

  “The brussels sprouts were a thing of beauty,” Dare said mournfully looking at the empty dish. “I need to get that recipe. I could pick out some of the herbs, but not all.”

  Samantha entered the kitchen and winked at Dare. “I’ll get you the recipe if you let me do the dishes with Wren. I’d really like a few minutes alone with him, if that’s okay.”

  Dare looked at me, and I nodded. He stood on his tiptoes and kissed me before he left.

  Samantha didn’t say anything right away, and I figured she was choosing her words. Intelligent people didn’t rush in with both guns blazing, they took their time picking the best thing to say.

  “I don’t think Alaric will appreciate me telling you this, but I think you have a right to know what happened between your parents back in the day.” She reached over and placed her hand over mine when I stiffened. “Honey, I’m not about to run your mama down or anything. I know a side to the story that you don’t, and I truly hope it helps heal the rift between you and your dad once and for all.”

  I dried my hands on the towel and turned my full attention to her.

  “You know by now that your dad left Cincinnati and pretty much never looked back. He stopped here on tours, but that’s it. Do you know why?”

  “I thought it was to escape my mom.”

  “He never intended to leave her behind for good, but Alaric was surrounded by people who only cared for themselves, not what was best for him.”

  “Tony Durano,” I said between gritted teeth.

  “Your mother called Alaric many times, but Tony always intercepted the messages at the hotels or the recording studio. When she finally put her foot down and told Tony that she was pregnant with you, it triggered a series of horrible events.” Samantha closed her eyes and shook her head slowly, like she wasn’t sure she could finish the story.

  “It’s okay, Sam,” I said using the nickname my father used.

  “Tony told your father that he’d hired an investigator to check up on Terry because Alaric was worried that he hadn’t heard from her. Tony told him that your mom had gotten tired of being alone and found a new guy. He even told him that Terry was pregnant, but he lied about how far along she was so that Alaric wouldn’t leave the band. What he did to your mom was so much worse though. He sent her a telegram and money that was supposedly from your dad to pay for an abortion. Wren, he never did that. He truly loved your mom.” Her chin wobbled and said. “If you only knew how much that man loves you and wants to be a part of your life.”

  “Don’t cry, Sam.” I gave her a hug to comfort her. “When did he find this out?”

  “Your mom told him after she got sick. We weren’t dating at the time, but he told me about it when we started getting serious. He said, ‘Samantha, I have a son. He’s a beautiful, angry young man filled with resentment toward me, but I hope someday that will turn around. I need you to know that I’ll never choose another person, or my career, over him again.’ He meant it too.”

>   “Why didn’t my parents tell me the truth after they pieced together what happened?” I asked. Why let me spend more than a decade angry at Alaric for something that wasn’t his fault?

  “I don’t think they wanted to compound your hurt and misery. What could have been is a terrible thing to live with, especially for a boy who just lost his mom.”

  “Thank you for telling me now,” I told Sam. “I guess Alaric fired Tony, huh?”

  “He destroyed that rat bastard’s career.” Sam smiled softly and said, “I didn’t tell you this to add any more pressure, but I knew that Alaric wouldn’t do it. He would rather you hate him the rest of his life than hurt another minute over things neither of you could control. He still took most of the blame because fame had gone to his head and he lost sight of who he was and did let your mom down.”

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  “You’re welcome,” she replied. “I’m going to speak to Dare about some design ideas. I know he’s going to argue with me about paying him, but I’m not taking advantage of his kindness because he’s family.”

  “You’re going to have a fight on your hands,” I assured her.

  “I’m a lawyer, sweetheart. I can talk around him in circles.” She stopped suddenly and said, “Did you know that Alaric wrote a song about you? It’s called If You Only Knew.”

  “I’ll give it a listen. Thank you.”

  When it was time to leave, I skipped the handshake and hugged Alaric. He stiffened in surprise but loosened up and hugged me back, lingering like maybe he might not get another chance. “Can we do lunch next week?” I asked

  “I’d really like that, Wren.”

  “I’ll call you… Dad.”

  Alaric’s eyes widened in surprise, but he smiled like I’d given him the greatest gift in the world. And I had: forgiveness.

  Dare stayed up late working on designs for Sam while I watched television. It wasn’t until he fell asleep that I downloaded If You Only Knew and listened to it. The song was about regret and yearning for a second chance. Most people would’ve assumed that it was written for a woman, but I heard the truth in the lyrics. Plus, the first letter in the four versus spelled my name. When I went to sleep that night, I knew I’d found the peace with my past that would allow me to have an amazing future.