She gasps ever so slightly, staring at me, her pulse thrumming beneath my fingertips.
The sky is blue today for the first time in over a week. Dust motes twirl in shafts of sunlight that stream through the window, the light carving a diagonal line across the bed. I run my thumb over Simone’s skin, the edge of it nudging the bottom of her mouth.
I want to kiss her so bad it hurts. It hurts everywhere. I can’t think of anything except that mouth.
How did I get here? How did this happen?
My fingers slide toward the nape of her neck, and Simone’s eyes flutter closed. She leans toward me. An inch. Then two. Three.
I can’t take this anymore. I need to taste her mouth. The sassy, difficult mouth that’s been driving me crazy for weeks. The mouth I’ve stared at whenever I have a chance. The lips that haunt my dreams.
There are reasons I shouldn’t, but I can’t quite think of them right now. Something about complicating an already messy situation. Distance is good, but I don’t exactly remember why.
The only thing in my world right now are those lips. They part as Simone opens her eyes. My heart thumps. Something falls away from Simone’s gaze. Her guardedness dissolves, and I see something new. Lust. Pure, white-hot desire rages in her gaze, finally laid bare for me to see.
She wants me.
All those times my mind jumped to sex when she walked in the room, was she thinking the same? Her hand moves toward my forearm and she moves her head slowly, so slowly toward my palm. I brush my thumb over her lips and let out a sharp breath when she parts them for me, taking the tip of my thumb in her warm, wet mouth. My God.
Then someone knocks on the door, and we jerk apart. My uncle’s voice calls through the door. “A man is here to see you, Wes. Said his name is Grant. It’s about the café roof. He’s needs the final word on which contractor you want to use.”
“Be right out,” I call out, my voice thick.
Simone says nothing. She just swings her legs over the edge of the bed and sits there for a few moments, her back to me, sucking in ragged breaths. Then she stands, tugging her shirt down, and disappears out the door toward the bathroom.
Well, okay then.
I scrub my face and let out a sigh. What the hell just happened?
We were both there. We both wanted it. We were about to make a huge mistake. If we sleep together, that’s the end of the simplicity. It crosses a line that we can’t un-cross. Sex always complicates things, and this situation would be no different. We can’t sleep together. I look at my thumb, still feeling her lips around the tip of it. Holy fucking shit.
I need to get up. The boot keeping my ankle secure lands on the floor, and I wince as a jolt of pain knocks the lust from my veins. The desire is still there, but I can almost think now. I need to get out of this room before Simone comes back. I pull on some sweatpants and a shirt, grab my crutches, and head downstairs.
Grant has narrowed down the roofing contractors to two companies, and it takes us only a few minutes to agree on which one to choose. After my accident, we decided it was best to hire professionals. Grant hasn’t been up there since the day I fell through.
We sit around the dining room table with the quotes in front of us, coffees in hand. My uncle and Alina are in the living room cuddling on the couch. For once, it doesn’t bother me to see them together. It’s weird to see it, but it doesn’t sting. Alina can date whoever she wants, and if my uncle thinks he can make her loyal, then good luck to him. Maybe he can provide for her the way she needs. Keep her in designer clothes and expensive shoes.
Simone’s steps are light as she walks down the stairs. Our eyes meet as soon as she turns the corner. Her hair is twisted up on top of her head with a few red tendrils framing her face. She’s wearing a black turtleneck and tan, pleated pants. Every inch of her is covered, but for some sick reason it turns me on. All that clothing only makes me want to peel it off, revealing her skin inch by inch. Did she think clothes would make me want her less? Did she think if she covered her body up, we’d forget what just happened?
“Morning,” Alina calls out in a sing-song voice.
Simone startles, head turning toward the two of them on the couch as if she hadn’t even noticed they were there. “Hi. Good morning.” Her gaze swings back to us. “Grant.” She nods in greeting. Nothing for me.
“Hey, Simone.” Grant’s gaze flicks to me, a grin threatening to spread over his lips. “You guys coming to Candice’s tonight?”
“Of course.” She smiles at him, dutifully avoiding looking at me. “As long as Eli, Sean, and Alina want to come.” She turns to them. “We’ve been invited to Thanksgiving dinner at our friend Candice’s place.”
Alina beams. “Thank you. That’s so kind.”
“It sure is.” Simone smiles, and for the first time since she mentioned Thanksgiving dinner to me, I see a hint of trepidation in her face.
We arrive at Candice’s place in the late afternoon. Candice and Allie live in a four-bedroom house near Cove Boulevard. It’s a two-story home with an open-plan living room, dining room, and kitchen on the ground level, and all the bedrooms upstairs. She has a massive table set up dominating most of the space, with a mix of chairs that people have obviously brought from multiple houses. Candice greets us with a wide smile, then hugs every single person who walks through the door. She’s a short woman who loves yoga, meditation, and public displays of affection. I give her an awkward one-armed hug around my crutches and let her guide me to a place on the sofa.
I can see Jen and Fallon in the kitchen, their backs to each other. Jen looks angry about something, glaring at Fallon every two seconds. He’s completely oblivious. Allie and Clancy are sitting in the corner on the floor, their heads close together. A short woman with the same bright eyes as Candice is introduced as Candice’s older sister, Iliana, in town for the holiday, and Rudy, of all people, shouts out from the refrigerator to offer us a drink.
My uncle, Eli, and Alina are introduced to everyone, and they take their seats and accept a drink from Candice. Fiona and Grant come in from outside carrying bags of ice. They smile at me and nod to my uncle and Alina.
Simone has done her best to ignore me without seeming like she’s ignoring me. We agree that this morning was a mistake, then. Doesn’t make it any easier to forget the feel of her skin beneath my fingertips, or how violently my body reacted to her slightest move.
She drifts away from me, heading toward the kitchen. I watch the way the light plays off her alabaster skin. How she leans a hip on the counter and sips a glass of wine, laughing at something Candice says. Fallon flexes his bicep for some reason as Jen rolls her eyes. Simone reaches over to squeeze it, pretending to need both hands. Everyone laughs. I frown.
The doorbell rings, and Dorothy and Margaret’s voices float down the hallway. Eli sits up straighter, his gaze peering toward the front door.
Margaret comes through first, carrying a dish wrapped in foil and a bag full of clinking wine bottles. Candice leads her to the kitchen, and Dorothy’s gaze lands on Eli. Is she…blushing?
Eli stands in a graceful movement, catching Dor’s hand to lay a kiss on her fingers. My eyebrows jump. “You look beautiful tonight, Dorothy,” he says in a voice I’ve never heard from him before.
Dorothy pulls her hand away and preens, then gestures toward the kitchen. “Wine?”
Eli inclines his head. “Please.”
Simone’s face splits into a smile at the sight of them, the first I’ve seen from her since this morning. The setting sun is catching her hair just right, gilding her fiery hair as she beams. Gorgeous. Rudy notices, too, sliding up beside her to say something in her ear to make her laugh. She swats his arm, and I realize I wish that were me standing next to her.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you like this,” my uncle says, taking a seat next to me. He tips his bottle of beer into his mouth, glancing over at Simone.
I jerk my eyes away to stare out the window instead. “Like what?”
/>
“In love. Even when you were with Alina, you didn’t look at her like you look at Simone.”
A lump forms in my throat. I’m not looking at Simone in any special way. I’m definitely not in love with her. She’s just… It’s just the way the light catches her sometimes. It’s striking.
Things this morning got out of hand, and I’m still trying to regain my footing, that’s all—but I can’t exactly tell him that.
“Yeah,” I finally croak. My eloquence knows no bounds.
“I appreciate you hosting Alina and me. I was worried about how you’d react.”
Yet you still decided to show up without a hint of warning. “You’re family.”
“Still, Alina told me how things ended between you two. She told me how much you were struggling with the failure of your business venture, and she always felt guilty about how things were left.”
“Funny that she wouldn’t tell me that herself.” I can’t quite keep the bitterness from my voice. Alina dropped me the minute things started looking like they wouldn’t end up with us as multimillionaires and attached herself to a sure bet in my uncle. That doesn’t scream guilt and remorse to me. That screams cunning and manipulation and a desire to be taken care of.
“Cut her some slack, Wes.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
My uncle clears his throat. “Well, I…I asked her to marry me yesterday, when we went out for dinner. I’m hoping we can all move on…together.”
Wind whistles past my ears, and I don’t hear another word. They’re getting married. They’re getting married. I don’t know why I care, but I do. I could deal with her being the girlfriend. I could almost deal with her living in my house for a couple of months.
But for her to become family? What, so technically she’ll be my aunt?
I’m not okay with this. I don’t care how much they think they care about each other. My uncle couldn’t have chosen literally any other woman? He couldn’t have found some other younger woman who wanted a comfortable life? He had to choose her?
The world turns red. He’s speaking, but I don’t hear a word.
I’ve been a fucking fool. I thought pretending to be with Simone would let me stay in my parents’ house in peace for the next eighteen months, but I didn’t expect it would give him a free pass to marry my ex-fiancée. Those things aren’t related, I know. But, but, but…
My neck creaks as I swivel my head, as if every muscle in my body has turned to stone. I stare at the man beside me, unable to move or speak or think.
“Dinner!” Candice calls out. “Let’s sit down and eat, folks.”
Simone appears by my side, the scent of citrus and lavender clearing some crimson fog from my vision. Her blue eyes search mine as my uncle makes his way to the table, her hand cool as she puts it on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“My uncle and Alina are engaged.”
She lets out a long breath and squeezes my shoulder. The touch is comforting. I don’t want her to pull away. “Let’s just get through this dinner, okay?”
She helps me up and lets me lean on her as I get my crutches in place, her hand hovering near my lower back as we make our way to the table. Happy fucking Thanksgiving, everyone.
14
Candice
It was important to me to get everyone together for this meal. I haven’t had a dinner party at my house for a long time. Since before Paul died. Setting up the table, getting Jen and Fallon over to cook with me, greeting people at the door, and seeing everyone talking and laughing—it feeds my soul.
I smile at the people around the table. So many of them are new friends, but it feels like we’ve known each other forever. Fiona’s sitting to my left, with Grant on the other side of her. Allie’s across from me, beside Clancy of course. To my right, Wesley’s uncle and his partner, then Eli, his head angled toward Dorothy.
My sister Iliana, the free spirit of the Viceroy clan, has breezed in for the weekend on her way to Europe. She’s currently leaning against Margaret and laughing about something, Probably some romantic, compelling story about her travels.
Directly across from me, Rudy winks. Agnes and Mr. Cheswick decided to go on an impromptu weekend away to Vegas, and I couldn’t bear the thought of him spending the holiday alone. Okay, fine. We’ve also had a bit of a flirtation going, and it…intrigues me. I’ve never been with a younger man. I met Paul in college and thought we’d be together forever. He died eighteen months ago, and it feels like a blink of the eye since he was sitting at this table with us.
Glancing at Rudy, I give the handsome, blond man a shy smile. He grins back, and my heart jumps. It feels too soon, but maybe…maybe flirting is healthy.
“Let’s eat,” I say, raising my glass. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.”
A chorus of “Happy Thanksgivings” answers back, and everyone digs in. Jen and Fallon are masters, and their help was invaluable for this meal. They did a better job of cooking than I would, to be honest, and it let me organize everything else, even if there was incessant bickering between them. As I stare around the table, a weight lifts off my shoulders and I can’t keep the smile off my face.
“So, you’ve been staying at Wes’s, huh. Have you been enjoying the forest view?” Fiona grins at Simone, wiggling her eyebrows. “Forest view” sounds different when Fiona says it like that. “It’s a bit more luxurious than your old apartment.”
“I think my apartment is getting lonely without me.”
Jen helps herself to another scoop of mashed potatoes. “Not if Clancy and Allie keep crashing there.”
Simone, Fiona, and I freeze at once. Jen doesn’t notice. The three of us glance at each other, then at Jen, then back at each other. Simone’s face is red, her eyes full of panic.
Conversation dies around the table as the tension ratchets higher. I’m the first to speak. “What are you talking about, Jen?”
“Last weekend. Sunday morning.” She jerks her head at Clancy and Allie. “They were at Simone’s.”
I turn to Allie, who’s very, very focused on cutting her turkey into bite-sized pieces. “Allie?”
She looks up, cherubic innocence written on her face. “Yes?”
“Were you at Simone’s on Saturday night?”
Clancy shifts in her seat.
Simone stares at her, a silent command written in her eyes that Clancy is doing her best to ignore.
So much for a wonderful family meal. The only sound is the clink of utensils on plates, chewing, and the collective speeding heartbeat of half a dozen people caught in a lie.
I put my fork down and intertwine my fingers under my chin, leveling my daughter with a stare. “Explain.”
Allie ducks her head, and Clancy does the same. Fiona and Grant look angry enough to have steam curling out of their nostrils.
Simone looks at the two girls, leans back in her chair, and crosses her arms. “You didn’t tell your parents about the party.”
“What party?” Grant’s voice is a rough growl.
“I’d also like to know,” I say through clenched teeth. “Last I heard, Allie was at your place for a sleepover last Saturday night.”
“That’s funny,” Fiona cuts in, “because we were told the girls were at your place.”
As one, Fiona, Grant, and I lean back in our chairs and stare at the girls. They squirm. Good.
“Allie.” My Mom Voice is cranked up to full power.
“Maybe Simone can explain what the girls were doing at her place.” Fiona’s words are cold as ice.
Simone closes her eyes for a long moment and shakes her head. “They promised they’d tell you.”
“First of all, tell us what, exactly? And second of all, you trusted two fifteen-year-olds to come clean about something they obviously did wrong?” Fiona snorts, shaking her head.
Simone shrugs. “I mean…yes?”
Grant leans forward. “What. Happened.”
This is just great. Hey everyone, come over for Thanksgiving!
You can have a front-row seat for some primo family drama. And bring your extended family, too! Hey, how about your butler as well! I’ll invite the town gossips to make sure everyone in Heart’s Cove knows by nightfall, and I’ll do it in front of the first man I’ve felt an ounce of sexual attraction for in over a year.
I steal a glance at Eli, Sean, and Alina, who are just watching the drama unfold, sipping wine and saying nothing. Fallon’s eating like he doesn’t have a care in the world, eyes firmly stuck on his plate. Jen has a completely neutral expression on her face, scooping mashed potatoes into her mouth like it’s her job. Wes looks like he has thunderclouds brewing on his brow, which makes no sense at all. He’s not involved in this. I don’t have the energy to look at Dorothy and Margaret. The embarrassment is too much.
This is not what I wanted when I invited everyone over. I wanted a nice meal, where we could come together and celebrate the success of Four Cups together. I wanted to show my appreciation to Wes for letting us lease his space, and my appreciation to Dorothy and Margaret for letting me set up my yoga studio in one of the hotel’s spare reception rooms. I wanted this to be a time that we could laugh and drink and celebrate new beginnings.
Instead, my teenager and her best friend are facing an inquisition. I don’t know whether to be mad at them, at Simone, at Jen, or at myself. I should have known something was up with Allie last weekend. She came home way too early for it to be a sleepover at Clancy’s house.
Clancy takes a deep breath and straightens up. She meets her father’s gaze head-on. “There was a party.”
“I said you couldn’t go,” Grant replies.
“I know, but that wasn’t fair. I went. I didn’t drink, Dad. Not a drop. I didn’t want to drink.”
“But you went when I specifically told you that you weren’t allowed.”
“Why, though? Why couldn’t I go? You never gave me a reason.”
Dirty Little Midlife Mess: A Fake Relationship Romantic Comedy (Heart’s Cove Hotties Book 2) Page 12