“Does Wes know?”
“It’s none of his business. It’s not like I was talking to Nate while he and I were together. It was before I even knew him. And it’s over now.”
Fiona snorts. “Well, I’m sure Nate got the message when he saw you with Wes.”
“Why do I make such bad decisions, Fiona? What’s wrong with me? You’d think by the time I’m halfway through my forties, I would have learned my lesson by now.”
A deep sigh slips through my best friend’s lips. She arches her eyebrows and shrugs. “Some lessons are just hard to learn, I guess.”
“It was too good to be true, anyway. We couldn’t both find hunky men to sweep us off our feet in this town.”
“Simone…” Fiona bites her lip. “What if Wes just made a mistake? Like you did with Nate. He got burned by his ex-fiancée who happens to be in town, and like you told me before, makes all kinds of comments needling at his insecurities. What if it just all got to him?”
“You think I should give him another chance?”
“I don’t know.” She lets out a sigh and glances down, scraping her thumbnail over the corner of the table. “Like I said, some lessons are hard to learn. Maybe Wes learned this one with you.”
“I’m not marrying him just so he can get his inheritance.” I’d refuse out of spite. Just to prove to him that I don’t care about the money. I’m petty like that.
Fiona rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to marry him, Simone. But you’ve been sulking for weeks now. Maybe it’s worth another shot.”
“I’ll think about it.” I slide my laptop into my bag and let out a sigh. “It’s just… I don’t want to make the same mistakes all over again. How many chances did I give Nate? Even almost a decade after our divorce, I was still going back and trying again. Now I want to try again with Wes? How many times will I go back to him when he hurts me?”
“Wes isn’t Nate,” Fiona says. “He’s a different man with different priorities.”
I hum. I’m not so sure. “I’ll think about it.”
I think about it for a week, and still can’t bring myself to go talk to Wes. My business is going well, the café is busy, and spring is in full bloom. Walking down that winding gravel road to Wes’s house just seems…too difficult for me right now. I can’t do it.
I still haven’t bought a new car. I’ve been walking everywhere, which is great for my figure but not so good for convenience. I have enough money now, but using the money Wes gave me for anything feels like a slap in the face. I’d rather burn it.
Fiona’s birthday is March 11, and we all gather at her place for a dinner party. Everyone is there and in good spirits—but it just reminds me of Christmas. Of what happened after. I leave early to walk home after giving Fiona a big hug and pause when I get to the end of the driveway. If I turn right, I could be at Wes’s house in ten minutes. Left, and I’ll be home in twenty.
The wind rustles through the trees, the air still chilled with the dregs of winter. I sigh and turn left.
The next day, I wake up to a text from Candice asking the three of us to meet her at Four Cups. Jen is already there when I walk across the street in my slippers and sweatpants, the two of them leaning against the counter with steaming mugs wrapped in their hands.
Candice’s eyes twinkle when she sees me. “Morning, sunshine. Nice choice of footwear.”
“I’ve given up,” I proclaim, shaking my fuzzy slippers at her. “I’ll claim I’m senile a couple of decades early.”
“You’ve been a doddering old lady at heart since I met you nearly thirty years ago,” Fiona says behind me, her cheeks rosy from the fresh air. She looks at Candice. “What was that cryptic text message about?”
“She has a surprise, apparently,” Jen says, sipping her chai.
I frown. “A surprise?”
“Follow me!” Candice sing-songs, waving a hand as she leads us outside.
We stop in front of a gleaming red door right beside the café. I frown, glancing around. I never noticed this door before. “Was this always here?”
“New door,” Candice explains. “Come on up.” She flashes us a brilliant smile and shoots up the staircase. We trundle up behind her, my heart beating hard in my chest.
A surprise. Wes had a surprise for me, and he’d come home sweaty, covered in dust and paint. He said he was working on a project in town, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was. Could this be…
No. It’s not. Whatever Wes was working on, it wasn’t anything for me—but we spill into the room above the café and my eyes grow wide.
Bright, light-filled space greets me, sunlight streaming in through new windows to the left. One wall is completely covered in shelves laden with well-loved books. Two desks line the far wall, one of them L-shaped and looking out on the street below. A little reading or conversation nook is in the corner by the farthest bookshelf, complete with a floor lamp and a cozy-looking throw.
There’s wainscoting along the walls gleaming with fresh white paint. It’s classic, comfortable, and stylish. My shoulders relax within moments of walking in.
I stand in the entrance, taking it all in. “What is this place?”
Fiona, who drifted to the kitchenette to look at the tea bags neatly displayed in little boxes, glances over her shoulder at Candice. “I’d also like to know.”
“This, my friends, is where we can keep all the records for the café. Our new office.”
“What…” My voice drifts away before I can form a sentence. I clear my throat. “Where did this come from? Did you do this? I thought this was an apartment. It wasn’t part of the lease.”
My heart thunders as I take in the space once more. The light, the comfort, the books. It’s… It’s somewhere I could see myself working.
Candice looks at me, biting her lip. “Wesley gave me the keys yesterday. He said he’d been working on it for a few months. His mother used to come here, apparently, and he said he’d like it to be occupied again. He told me the café’s success made him realize that his parents would have loved us taking over, and this space should be ours to use, too.”
I can’t speak. Tears cloud my eyes, and I almost don’t see Candice close the distance between us. My heart stutters when she puts her hand on my arm, her gaze finding mine. “I think…” She inhales, casting her gaze to our two other friends. “I think he meant for you to use this place for your business. I found a big wall decal with your logo on it rolled up behind one of the couches. He must have forgotten it there.”
A sob escapes me, and I clap my hand over my mouth. Fiona’s beside me in an instant, wrapping her arms around me. I feel another set of arms, then another. My friends hold me up as I fall apart, thinking of all those hours Wesley put into this place—for me.
He did this for me.
Even after we broke up, even after I told him in no uncertain terms that I wanted nothing to do with him, he still gave Candice the keys. And that desk—the fresh folders and colorful stationery. It’s for me. I know it is. There’s even a scented candle on the corner.
Wes built an office for me, and I’ve been stewing in my own bitterness for weeks, thinking he was a horrible person. I couldn’t even see past my own anger to give him a chance.
“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” I say through my tears, my voice wobbly.
The girls pull back, Candice rubbing my back as Fiona squeezes my arm. Jen drifts toward the bookcase as if that kind of intimacy makes her uncomfortable.
Fiona’s smile is soft. “You’re crying because he did this beautiful thing for you.”
“He built me an office and then pretended he didn’t.” I look around the room, at the soft touches, the new furniture. The candles. He put scented candles on every horizontal surface. Oh my goodness, this man. He did this for me.
Wes didn’t do this because he wanted to provide for me or make me feel spoiled—he did it because he saw me working at the café or at my apartment and he wanted to help me with my business. He remem
bered that I mentioned I would love to have an office one day, so he made one for me.
Wes is nothing like Nate. This proves it. Nate would have tried to buy me another purse. He would have dressed me in a gown and wined and dined me. He would have showered me with presents to prove his love. But Wes did this. He built me an office so I could continue working, so I could grow my business. My business. The one thing that gave me hope after the divorce, the independence that kept me trudging through the hardest years of my life.
Even when everything fell apart between us, he still gave it to me.
I wipe my cheeks with the heels of my hands and shake my head. “I have to go talk to him.”
“Whoever bought all these books loved smut,” Jen says, flicking through a paperback. She glances at the three of us. “Like—really loved it.”
I giggle, snort, then giggle some more. With a sigh, I pull away from my friends and straighten my shoulders. “I’m going to go talk to him.”
“You want to borrow my car?” Fiona asks.
I shake my head. “The walk will help me clear my head. And hopefully hide the fact that I just burst into tears.”
30
Simone
Wes’s house appears through a gap in the trees. First, the apex of the roof covered in cedar shingles, then those gorgeous windows, and finally the big front porch shaded by tall trees. My breath hitches and I almost stumble on the gravel, then catch myself.
I can do this. Glancing down at myself, I groan. I should have at least changed. I’m not exactly dressed to win back a sexy man. Unless said sexy man is really into slippers and sweatpants.
I need to thank Wes for the office, and I need to tell him that…that I’m sorry, too. Our fight scared me in a way I didn’t expect. It made me think I’d fallen for a man just like Nate—just as vindictive, just as arrogant, who saw me as a small, insignificant woman.
But Wes had his own shit to work through, and like Fiona said, it couldn’t have been easy with Alina in town, in his face and his ear, reminding him of all the bad choices he made.
Still, as I walk up the three steps onto his porch, it’s hard to take a full breath. It reminds me of a day all those months ago when I walked up to the cabin door and knocked, hoping Wesley would be there and listen to me.
I hesitate, my finger near the doorbell, then pull myself together and press it. My heart thunders as I stand on the porch, waiting. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if I pushed him away one too many times? What if he doesn’t actually want me at all?
I should go. He came to me, and I told him I wanted nothing to do with him. Coming here was a bad idea. I should turn around and go home and forget this ever happened.
But before I can move, the door opens and he’s there. Shirtless, of course, in all his muscled glory. Because this conversation isn’t going to be hard enough as it is. Stubble lines his jaw, his hair mussed from sleep. He looks absolutely delicious.
We stare at each other for a minute. An eternity.
I gulp. “Hi.”
“Simone.” The word seems to shock Wes out of his stupor and he shakes his head, clearing his throat. He steps aside to let me in, and I catch a hint of his scent as I enter. So intrinsically Wes. I missed that smell. My heart stutters as I kick off my slippers, stealing a glance at him as he closes the door behind me. He waves me forward, and I see a pan on the stove and a carton of eggs on the counter.
“Sorry to disturb your breakfast.”
“You hungry? I’m no Eli, but I can make eggs.”
I almost say no, then catch myself. He’s offering me an olive branch. I give him a tentative smile. “Sure.”
Leaning against the opposite counter, I watch the muscles in his back bunch and ripple as he cracks eggs into a hot pan one-handed. Hot. My heart thumps.
“I’m assuming Candice showed you the office space,” Wes says without looking back at me.
I clear my throat as he cracks another egg. “Yeah. It’s…it’s gorgeous, Wes.”
“It was my mother’s space. She used to go there when she needed peace and quiet. She, the twins, and Agnes used to have a book club.”
My heart stumbles. Oh my goodness. He wanted to give me his mother’s old sanctuary. He converted his mother’s favorite space into an office for me. My lip wobbles, and it’s hard to get my breathing under control.
“Candice found a wall sticker behind one of the couches,” I say. Wes freezes, his back still to me. The light plays on his hair—longer than the last time I saw him. “It had my logo on it.”
“Did she, now,” he says, cracking a third egg.
“Did you…” I inhale. “Was that the project you were working on before? The surprise?”
Silence stretches, punctuated only by the sizzling of the pan as Wes cracks a fourth egg into it. He stares at it for a moment then slowly turns, dragging his eyes up the length of my body to rest on my face. His gaze snags on my mouth, and I realize I’m biting my lip. When he finally reaches my eyes, he gives me a shrug. “You told me you wanted an office.”
“Wes…” Pain shatters through my chest. I don’t even know why it hurts so much. Because I want him so bad, but I feel like…like there’s too much between us.
The toaster pops, and Wes turns back around to start buttering the bread, then uses a flat spatula to transfer the eggs onto two plates. I use those moments to compose myself, to regain control over my rioting emotions.
“I’m sorry,” I tell his back. “I’m sorry I pushed you away and I didn’t listen to you when you came to apologize. I’m sorry I told you it wasn’t enough. I was…scared. I still am. When you said those things to me, I felt so small. I felt like I was making all the same mistakes again, falling for a man who didn’t see me for who I was, who didn’t respect me. But…”
Wes turns around again. His eyes are full of devastation, guilt, and something I can’t read. He swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair. We stand on opposite sides of the kitchen, leaning against our respective countertops, clutching onto them as if we both need something to help us stand.
“I’m sorry too, Simone.” Wes’s voice is full of gravel. He shakes his head. “I was a complete ass. I got scared of what I was feeling for you, of how easy it would be for you to shatter my heart all over again.”
“We’re both just big cowards.”
He huffs, lifting those eyes of cut jade to meet mine. He hesitates, then slowly pushes himself off the counter and crosses the distance between us. He stops a foot away from me, that muscled, glorious chest close enough to touch. It’s Wes who moves first, though. He lifts his hand and twirls a strand of my hair around his finger, then drops it, shaking his head.
“This past month has been the worst of my life, Simone.” He stares at my hair, my face, my chest. “I’ve missed you every second of every day. Everything in here reminds me of you. I would have moved back to the cabin if Eli wasn’t in it just to try to get you out of my mind, but I would have thought of you there, too.” He takes another step, sliding his hands over my hips. “I never should have said those things to you. It kills me to think that I hurt you, that I made you feel like you were anything less than perfect. I know it’s no excuse, but I…I’ve spent the past year since my parents died coming to terms with the fact that I’d lose this house, the land, the money. I’d accepted it. I felt like I didn’t deserve it, because I’d failed at so many things in my life.”
He leans his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. “But you breezed into my life and made me laugh again. You made me see color. You showed me how to smile, how to live. I was drowning in my own guilt, my own self-loathing, and you swam down to grab my hand and pull me to the surface again. When I would wake up next to you, I felt like I could breathe for the first time in a decade. It scared the shit out of me.”
His shoulders are warm and solid when I run my hands over them. I wrap my arms around his neck and twist my fingers into the silky strands of his hair. I let out a long sigh and pull
back to look in his eyes. “Maybe we can…start over.”
Fire skips over my skin as Wes’s hands slide to my back, then down toward my ass. He pulls me close, hope sparking in his gaze. “Yeah?”
I nod.
When he tugs me even closer, my body pressed along the length of his, I let out a soft whimper. He nudges my nose with his, then drops his lips over mine. His kiss is soft, tentative, until I part my lips and let out a moan. I curl my fingers into the nape of his neck to deepen the kiss, needing…more. More of him. More of his lips, of his smell, his taste, his touch.
The leash he was keeping on himself snaps. His kiss turns hard, bruising, claiming. His hands sink into my flesh, pulling me close enough to feel how much he wants me. I moan against his lips, shuddering when his tongue brushes over mine. The kitchen counter presses against the small of my back, pinning me against his broad, strong body.
He pulls away, panting, sliding a hand over my cheek. “Forgive me, Simone. Tell me you forgive me for what I said to you.”
The desperation in his voice almost undoes me. I grip his face in my hands and bring his lips to mine, kissing him softly. “Of course I forgive you. I’m in love with you, Wes.”
He closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering sigh, as if my words just tore a weight off his shoulders. When he speaks, his voice is low. “I think I started falling for you the moment you explained to me how a conversation works,” he admits. “It had been so long since someone spoke to me like that. Challenged me. Made me…want something.” When he opens his eyes again, his hands still wrapped around my body, a smile teases at his lips. “And I knew I loved you when you told me you’d break my other ankle if I called you ma’am.”
My cheeks flush as I giggle, shaking my head. “At least my sass is good for something. Makes broody men fall over themselves to win me over.”
Dirty Little Midlife Mess: A Fake Relationship Romantic Comedy (Heart’s Cove Hotties Book 2) Page 22