Not So Charming: A Hate to Lovers Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 1)

by Fabiola Francisco

  “What are you doing today?” I ask as we drink our cups of joe standing around in my kitchen.

  “I’m not sure. I may go to The Grind after I change,” she motions to her clothes. “I haven’t seen Lucy a lot lately, so I could chat with her even if she’s working. I’ll also make up the reading time that was interrupted yesterday.” She arches a brow in an attempt to intimidate me, but she can’t fool me—she was happy as fuck that I interrupted her plans yesterday.

  “Miles time is better,” I wink. June rolls her eyes, laughing lightly.

  “I do like my Miles time.” She shrugs one shoulder, but the words fill me more than the caffeine does.

  After we finish and put the mugs in the dishwasher, I drop her off at home with a final kiss and head into work. Over an hour late. It’s worth it, though, and I’ll make up for it by staying later tonight.

  When I walk into my office, my dad is standing inside waiting for me.

  “Hey.” I look at him with raised eyebrows and my hands in my pockets.

  “About time you showed up.”

  I ignore his tone and ask, “What’s going on?”

  “Take a seat, Son.”

  My jaw tightens, and I sit. I know he’s ready to lecture me, and I’m not in the mood for him to spoil my morning. I breathe deeply, controlling myself, and sit down.

  “You told me your personal life wouldn’t interfere in your professional one.”

  “And it isn’t.” I stare at him with narrowed eyes.

  “I beg to differ.” He leans forward in his seat, arms crossed over my desk. “You didn’t come to work yesterday, and I have a feeling I know why. And that same reason is why you’re strolling in here an hour late today. If you ask me, that’s allowin’ it to mess with your career.”

  “When I’m here, I don’t treat June differently. We hardly talk, and the only way people would know we’re together is because they’ve seen us around town or heard through the grapevine.” I mirror him, leaning forward in a power play.

  “This isn’t a random girl you met. We have ties to this family, ties I don’t want to be severed.”

  I glare at him in disbelief, a dry chuckle leaving me.

  “I’m your son. You’d think you’d have a little more trust in me. Cheer on my happiness. You’re worried about keeping an employee.” I can’t believe this shit.

  “Scarlett and June have gone through a lot. June’s dad was an ass who couldn’t nor wanted to stick around. Scarlett’s told your mom and me what a rough time June had growing up. I don’t want her to get hurt.” He leans back, seemingly relaxed, but I see the tick in his jaw.

  “And you believe your son is going to hurt her? When did anyone become more important than your family?” Something isn’t adding up. My dad’s always protected Scarlett, and consequently, June.

  I look at my dad’s eyes, challenging him. When he doesn’t reply, I ask, “What’s really going on?” I cross my arms and arch an eyebrow.

  He shakes his head. Sighing, he leans back and runs a hand down his face. My dad’s a big guy, he has to be after playing football most of his life, pro and all, but right now, he looks half the size.

  “I introduced June’s dad to Scarlett. He was a friend of mine, so I’ve always felt responsible for him walking out on them. I did what I could, gave her a job so she could make a living, even when she wouldn’t allow us to help at first.”

  A whoosh of air leaves my lips, and I stare at him wide-eyed and speechless.

  “What? Do you know where he is? Where he’s been this whole time?” If my dad says yes, I don’t think I’ll be able to look at him the same. If he’s been keeping June from meeting her dad, jackass and all…

  He shakes his head. “Nah, never heard from him again after…”

  I nod, understanding where his words are leading. “Wow. So wait, y’all were friends? Scarlett, mom, and you?” I thought they knew each other because Scarlett works for them and it’s a small town, where everyone knows each other.

  “Our families were friends, like many Willow Creek families, though Scarlett is younger than both of us. One of our visits home for a holiday, I brought that friend with me—”

  “Wait. Was he an athlete, too?” Because if that’s the case, the motherfucker could’ve at least made sure his daughter never went without.

  “He wasn’t as well-known, but yes. Anyway, they met and hit it off. He’d come back to visit Scarlett when he could, until she told him she was pregnant…” My dad gazes off as if re-living the memory.

  “Shortly after, I got injured, and my career ended. When we moved back to Willow Creek, Brett was young, and your mom was pregnant with you and Madison. As soon as I heard what had happened, I tried to make things right, but it was pointless.”

  “But it wasn’t until I was a toddler that Scarlett started working at the house.” I’m so confused and shocked by this revelation.

  “She wouldn’t take us up on the offer at first. She worked odd jobs here and there, but it was hard with a baby. Finally, she gave in to your momma’s pleas about needing help with the twins, and Scarlett caved.”

  “I’m…This is just…” I run a hand down my face.

  “Yeah,” my dad breathes. “Which is why I’m serious about what I told you.”

  “June needs to know this, and her mom’s never told her. And I’m not giving June up.” I shake my head firmly. “Fuck…” My hand assaults my hair. No way in hell am I gonna give her up.

  “It makes no difference for her to know. What she knows about her father is true. Why add to her heartbreak?”

  My head snaps up at my dad, and I glare at him. “I can’t keep this from her.”

  “Don’t dig up the past. You’ll only find ghosts in the process.” He stands and walks out of my office, leaving me with a million questions.

  I sure as hell won’t be able to look at June and not think about all this. Why did things have to be this complicated? It’s clear my dad feels guilty about what happened. If he’d never introduced Scarlett to his friend, then she wouldn’t have had to be a young single mom, maybe had found a nice guy to spend her life with. But I wouldn’t know June, and that would be worst than anything. I can’t see my life existing without her in it.

  I just hope that when she does find out the whole story, she doesn’t push me away. Is that a risk I’m willing to take? Or, like my dad said, should I not disturb the past?

  Whatever I decide, it’s going to weigh heavy on my mind until the moment comes. June is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and the thought of possibly losing her cracks my heart, and a stabbing pain pierces me.

  I’m not a fool. As uncertain as I was about my feelings for her before, I know I’m head over heels for her. I love her, but in her eyes, that may not be enough.

  Chapter 27

  June

  Usually, the workday goes by quickly, but today’s been slower than usual. Carla and I have made small talk in between customers, but it’s still not helping with making the time pass by faster. To think this is the beginning of my work week. I hope the rest of it speeds up.

  It doesn’t help that I’ve only gotten glimpses of Miles, and he hasn’t smiled or winked like usual. When he’s seen me, he’s focused on whatever paper or conversation he was having so as to not make any contact. My anxiety takes over, convincing me that something’s wrong.

  Is this where my slice of happiness gets ripped from me?

  We barely spoke yesterday, but I was spending time with my mom, so I didn’t think anything of it. After seeing him today, I’m questioning if there’s more behind the short text messages and phone call.

  Exhaling, I do anything to keep busy. I wipe down already cleaned tables, organize the bottles of wine behind the counter, and check that we have plenty of whites and rosés cooling in the fridge. Unnecessary things that keep me distracted.

  When I walk out of the cellar with a bottle of sparkling wine to refill the fridge, I hear murmuring voices, but my na
me halts my steps.

  “June doesn’t need to know.” Is that Mr. Carlisle?

  “Yeah, she does, Dad.” Miles.

  What the hell is going on? I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but if they’re talking about me, I want to know what they’re saying. Their voices sound tight and agitated.

  “Son, let it go. It wouldn’t do her any good, definitely not Scarlett.”

  My heart freezes, my stomach churns. Dread fills me.

  “I disagree,” Miles says angrily, and I hear steps echoing away.

  I sneak back into the cellar and hold my breath, praying no one walks in here. My mind is reeling. This has to be the reason Miles has been avoiding me today. Whatever knowledge he’s holding, he’s at odds with his father, and from the sound of it, I’m not going to like it.

  After a couple of minutes, I step back into the hallway and toward the tasting room with the bottle of wine. My heart is beating double-time.

  “Are you okay?” Carla asks as she looks at me carefully.

  “Yeah, yeah.” I nod vigorously and move around.

  Her eyebrows pull together and eyes narrow, but she doesn’t push. Now I pray the day flies by so I can get out of here and ask Miles what the hell he and his father were talking about.

  Unfortunately, that’s not the case, and the day continues at a turtle’s pace. I’m sure it’s the universe’s way of torturing me. Each minute that passes by feeds my anxiety until I’m fumbling things and missing questions from customers, needing them to repeat.

  By the time I clock out, Miles’s car is no longer in the parking lot. Could this be how my fairytale ends?

  As I’m driving home, my phone rings, and I answer without looking at the screen first.

  “Junebug,” Miles releases a relieved sigh.

  “Hey.”

  “Did you leave work already? I’m assuming so if you answered the phone, but maybe you’re on your way out.” He sounds nervous, talking rapidly.

  “I left. I’m on my way home. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” A deep breath sounds through the earpiece. “I want to see you, though. Come over for dinner? And stay the night?”

  “Yeah,” I accept the invitation. This will give us time together, and I can ask him about what I overheard.

  “Good. I’ve been wanting you to myself since yesterday.”

  “May I remind you I woke up in your bed yesterday…” I trail off, thinking of how perfect that morning was.

  “It’s never enough.” His response surprises me, considering the avoidance I experienced today at work.

  Sighing, I nod to myself. I know the feeling. No matter how much time I spend with him, when we’re apart, it feels like years since I saw him last. It’s ridiculous and totally cliché, but I don’t give a shit. Miles makes me happy.

  “Come over whenever you want. I’ll be here.”

  “Okay.” I hang up and hurry home, showering and packing a bag.

  After a quick message to my mom letting her know my plans, I jump back in my car toward Miles’s house. Nerves settle in my stomach the closer I get to his house. He sounded fine on the phone, but the idea of asking him about the conversation I overheard makes me nauseous.

  Things have been going great with Miles, and I don’t want anything to get in the way of it. However, I know I won’t let it be until I learn what he and his father were talking about. It clearly involves my mom and me, so I have a right to be privy to the knowledge they have.

  Wiping my palms on my jeans, I grab my purse and walk up the porch steps. As soon as I knock on the door, Miles opens with a tentative smile that does nothing to calm my nerves.

  “Hey.” He kisses me before stepping aside so I can walk past. Miles grabs my bag, dropping it by the hall that leads to the bedrooms.

  “It smells good.” I inhale the savory aroma.

  “Thanks. I’m making chicken thighs in a lemon garlic sauce and mashed potatoes.”

  “Yum.” My mouth waters at the sound of it.

  “Do you want a glass of wine?” He lifts a bottle of white, and I notice a half-filled glass near the stove.

  “Sure, thanks.”

  I watch Miles’s movements. He’s not fully at ease, tension rolling off his shoulders. Whatever I overheard has him on edge. I bite my tongue, not wanting to ruin dinner since I just arrived, and wait for the perfect moment to bring it up.

  “Cheers,” he smiles, handing me my glass.

  “Cheers.” I sip the crisp white wine and lean back on the stool. “Can I help?”

  I look around the kitchen. Miles cleans up as he cooks, which demonstrates discipline on his part. I wonder why he never went to culinary school.

  “I got it. You sit back and relax and stare at my ass all you want,” he winks over his shoulder.

  “I may just do that,” I say, chuckling. My smile feels genuine, and I begin to release the tension and worries.

  “Have you ever considered going to culinary school?” I finally ask as I witness him chopping garlic with perfected practice.

  He shrugs, looking up at me before returning his attention to his work.

  “At one time, I did think about it but not anymore. I cook for fun and add ideas to the restaurant. I wish I had more freedom there, but it is what it is.” He stirs something, squeezing lemon over the chicken in the pan while using his hand as a strainer to catch the seeds. His arms flex, and he looks damn sexy in the kitchen.

  “How about you? Have you decided on the classes and the bookstore?” I shake my head. “I think it’d be a great opportunity. You could even do like a book bar—wine and books,” he winks. “I’ll be your supplier.”

  “Yeah, you’ll supply my orgasms,” I spit out before thinking.

  Miles releases a loud cackle, head tipped back. His deep laughter is a balm to my worried mind.

  “I’ll definitely be supplying that.” His eyes twinkle.

  Slowly, the mood shifts to a lighter one, and I’m afraid of making it tense again by asking questions. But by the time we’re done with dinner, I can’t take it anymore. I place the last plate in the dishwasher and turn around, gripping the counter behind me for support. Miles is wiping down the island.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” I disrupt the silence.

  He turns around and faces me, eyes clouding with worry. “What’s going on?”

  I take a deep breath and look away as I speak. “I overheard you talking to your dad today. I was coming out of the cellar.”

  Miles tenses and looks at me with his lips pressed in a straight line. His expression does nothing to calm the nausea that’s grown inside of me.

  “I wanted to talk to you about that, too.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Let’s sit.”

  He reaches for my hand, and I give it to him, wanting to feel some sense of closeness.

  “My dad…he’s been on my case a bit about us dating.” I freeze, my heart splintering as it cracks. “He used the excuse about mixing work and personal life and pushed it further when I was late to work yesterday. He was in my office, saying how I’d taken Monday off and then was late to work, my personal life interfering with my job.”

  Miles holds my hands and frowns. I don’t know where he’s going from here, but I’m not going to like it by the grim expression on his face.

  “It turns out our parents go way back. Further back than I thought.”

  “Your parents and my mom?” I ask to clarify because what the fuck?

  “And your dad…” he whispers.

  “Okay, now I’m confused.” I sit back, staring at him in disbelief. What does my father have to do with this? He’s just a sperm donor.

  “Fuck.” Miles rubs his face. He looks at me with sadness, his eyebrows pulled together. “My dad told me how our families were friends, like so many in Willow Creek, and your mom and my parents would hang out. They were visiting from Dallas while my dad was playing for the Cowboys, and he brought a friend with him. That’s how your mom met him.”

  My m
ind is dizzy with a million thoughts, but Miles continues to speak. “Apparently, your father and my dad played together for a few years. He introduced him to your mom, and they hit it off. He’d come and visit when he could, but when she told him she was pregnant—”

  “He stopped comin’ ‘round,” I finish for him.

  Miles nods. “I’m sorry, June. My dad said it wasn’t worth telling you, but I think you have a right to know. After that, no one could get in touch with him. He just disappeared.”

  “Made himself disappear,” I add, and he nods.

  “My dad feels guilty, feels like it’s his fault you never knew your dad, and your mom got her heart broken.”

  “Is this why they hired her? Because of guilt?” I jump to my feet and begin pacing, questions upon questions I’ve never dared ask slam into my mind.

  “No, well, I don’t know. Maybe. At first, your mom refused to work for them, but then she agreed.”

  “As a fucking maid. We really are just a charity case,” I say to myself, but Miles hears me.

  “Don’t you dare think that,” he seethes. “You’re not a damn charity case. Not to me and not to my family despite the history there.”

  I shake my head, tears welling my eyes.

  “Come ‘ere, Junebug.” Miles walks toward me, enveloping me in his arms and holding me tight. “It’s gonna be okay.”

  I grip his back. “I need to talk to my mom, ask her about this. Why didn’t she ever tell me?” I sniff, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears.

  “I don’t know.” Miles kisses the top of my head. “I needed to tell you, though. We couldn’t move forward if I didn’t.”

  My mind is a jumbled mess, and I’m not sure which idea to grasp first.

  “Don’t freeze me out,” Miles whispers. I shake my head against his chest, feeling confused and lonely.

  Besides Miles’s assurance, I can’t help but feel like my life is the product of deep-seated guilt and abandonment. All the nasty things I heard growing up about my dad come front and center. Of course, I wasn’t enough for him to stay. He bolted as soon as I became a thing in their lives. A kid didn’t fit in his plans to screw my mom.