The Wrong Kind of Love

by Lexi Ryan

  “Is he the reason you’re pulling away from me this morning?”

  My eyes go wide. “I’m pulling away? What about you? You’re the one who freaked out when you thought Shay and Lilly were going to find us in bed together.”

  He grins slowly. “I woke up with a beautiful naked woman in my arms. I had an erection and no clothes. Did you want me to invite them up?”

  “Oh.” My cheeks heat. I read that all wrong. “Not exactly. I just thought . . .” I shrug. “Last night was a one-time thing, right?”

  His grin falls away. “I don’t know. I guess that depends on you.” He touches his thumb to my bottom lip. “I’m not sure I’ve had enough of you yet.”

  My heart feels too big for my chest at the idea of spending another night in his arms, but I know I shouldn’t. Not with this lie between us. Not when I need to leave in February. “I just got out of a serious relationship. I think rushing into anything else would be a bad idea.”

  He drops his hand and nods. “Right. I understand.”

  I’m hurting him, and he doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he’s shifted back into his default state of sadness. “Ethan, it’s not you. You are amazing, and I . . .”

  He shakes his head and steps back. “Let’s not do this, Nic. You don’t owe me an explanation. We were just a couple of adults enjoying each other, right?” His eyes skim over me. “And I’d say we succeeded.”

  Then he leaves me alone in the kitchen, and all I want to do is rush after him and beg him to talk to me. But I don’t. Because all I want to say is my real name.

  “You know what I’d like to do?” I ask Teagan.

  “Model all that for Dr. McBroody Pants?”

  I shake my head, pull out the drawer, and dump the lacy contents on the middle of the bed. After I pushed Ethan away with our kitchen conversation this morning, Teagan showed up to take me birthday shopping. When I told her I wasn’t in the mood, she insisted on hanging out. Now we’re in my room upstairs and she’s sitting on the bed where Ethan made love to me last night.

  Not that I’ve told her that.

  I’ve very deliberately not shared that little piece of information. I know if I did, I’d also share our conversation in the kitchen and how desperately I want to tell him the truth.

  It would feel good to talk that out with someone, but I’m also afraid to. Afraid it’ll make me take a long, hard look at the mess I’ve made, and afraid I’ll have to admit that in my desperate attempt to escape yet another bad relationship, I’ve fallen in love.

  “No. I’m not interested in modeling for anyone,” I say. “I’d like to have a bonfire with this stuff. I’m never going to wear it and feel sexy. These were all gifts from my bridal shower, and it’s always going to remind me of Marcus and the honeymoon that wasn’t.”

  “That is a lot of lingerie.” Teagan and I turn to see Ethan’s youngest brother, Levi, in the doorway to my bedroom, his shoulder against the doorjamb and his eyes wide as he stares at the items cluttering the center of my bed.

  “Nic wants to burn it,” Teagan says.

  Levi winces like we just threw a punch to his gut. “Why?”

  “I was supposed to wear it on my honeymoon,” I say. “Since my husband-to-be got my sister pregnant and went on that honeymoon with her instead, I don’t really want it anymore.”

  He lets out a long, low whistle. “Ouch. Understood. But still, it seems kind of wasteful to just burn it.” He turns to Teagan and points a thumb at me. “She can’t feel sexy in it, but there’s no reason you couldn’t wear it.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Girls don’t share lingerie.”

  “Shh! Shh!” He shakes his head.

  “And we don’t have pillow fights in our underwear.”

  “Why do you have to do that? What did I ever do to you?”

  Teagan grabs a pillow off my bed and throws it at him.

  He catches it. “I’m just saying there’s a lot of sexy in that pile, and it’s wasteful to destroy it. I want to live in a world where no lingerie goes to waste.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” Jake joins Levi in the doorway.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and bury my face in my hands. “What are you even doing here?”

  “Brayden’s getting the kitchen painted, so this is where we’re doing Jackson Sunday brunch.” Jake looks at the bed. “But I think the more important question is, what’s going on in here?”

  “Nic is going to burn all that lingerie, and it’s never been worn,” Levi says.

  I’m too busy waiting for the earth to swallow me whole to see Jake’s expression, but I hear him walking into the room, and when I peek at him through my fingers, he’s leaning over the bed surveying the contents of my pile. Why did I even bring this stuff? I could have left it with Teagan the day after I arrived in town. Or deposited it into the nearest trashcan. It’s not as if I ever intended to wear it.

  “Sweet baby Jesus,” Jake whispers.

  “Could you two leave or something?” I mutter.

  “I . . .” Jake makes a fist and bites his knuckles. “I don’t really want to.”

  “We can’t leave until you promise not to burn it,” Levi says. “It’s a little-known fact, but every time a piece of lingerie is stripped off a woman, a Victoria’s Secret angel gets her wings.”

  “Fashion show?” Jake suggests.

  “You’re both pigs,” Teagan says, but she’s grinning.

  Levi shakes his head. “If loving beautiful women is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.”

  “What’s going on up here?” Ethan says, coming up behind Levi. “Brunch is on the table.” His gaze drops to the bed then he lifts it to meet mine, and my cheeks blaze even hotter. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, but he doesn’t say anything before turning to his brothers. “Nic has the morning off. Give her some fucking privacy.”

  Ethan turns to leave and the boys bite back their grins, bow their heads, and leave my room, but Levi throws me a wink over his shoulder as he goes.

  My phone rings and Teagan grabs it off the bed before I can. “Nic,” she says, her eyes going wide. “Oh, shit, Nic.”

  “What?” I reach out for my phone. “Who is it?”

  She places it in my hand. “It’s Marcus.”

  I snatch the phone from her hand, immediately panicked that something terrible has happened to Veronica. “Hello?”

  “Nic, thank you so much for taking my call,” he said. “Christ, I’ve missed you more than you can believe.”

  “Marcus? Is Veronica okay?”

  “She not here right now. She’s down at the clinic . . .” He clears his throat. “Um, prenatal stuff?”

  I meet Teagan’s eyes. She folds her arms and shakes her head. “Don’t let him sweet-talk you,” she says in a stage whisper.

  “Why are you calling me?” I ask Marcus.

  “Because I miss you. I made a terrible mistake. You and me, we were good together, weren’t we?”

  I blink. What a fucking douchebag. “Were we?” I ask. “You had me give up everything I loved so I could take care of you. You never touched me but screwed around with my sister.”

  “But I loved you. I still do.” He sounds weak, like a whiny little boy. Did he always sound like that, or have I become so used to Ethan’s deep, self-assured voice that Marcus doesn’t sound like a man anymore?

  “You loved that I idolized you. That I cooked for you and picked up after you. You didn’t love me.”

  “That’s not fair,” he says.

  “Really? What’s my favorite TV show? How do I like my coffee? What’s my dream job?”

  Teagan grins and gives me a double thumbs-up from the bed.

  “None of that matters. All that matters is you and me.” He lowers his voice. “You miss me too, don’t you? Just admit it. Admit it and I’ll get on the first plane to come get you. Bring you home where you belong.”

  “Goodbye, Marcus. Don’t call me again.”

  Nicole

  “Do you
expect me to believe you?” Veronica asks softly.

  It’s taken me all day to work up the courage to call my sister. I had to process Marcus’s phone call enough to know my next move.

  “I don’t expect anything, Ronnie.” I swallow hard when her old nickname slips out. I didn’t mean to use it. That was the name I whispered in the dark when we were kids placed in a new home. The name I called out when I was lonely and needed to reach for the only person I could count on to be there. “I just wanted you to know the truth.”

  “So . . .” She draws in a ragged breath. “Are you going to take him back?”

  “What?” I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. Is she insane?

  “Because, in case you’ve forgotten, I’m pregnant over here.” She sounds like she’s crying, and the sound tugs at my heart, even though I don’t want it to. I want to be cold toward my sister. She betrayed me.

  But she’s my sister.

  “I called to tell you that you can’t trust him, not to tell you I’m taking him back. Marcus and I are never getting back together. Never.”

  “And you don’t want me to be with him either?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just wanted you to know he called me, and if he called me while he’s supposed to be with you, and you when he was supposed to be with me, who knows who else he’s going to call?” I take a breath and contemplate whether I’m going to say more. I told myself this was a fact-giving call—no interpretation, no analysis, no persuasion—and yet here I am, trying to make her see him for the lying cheat he is. “I don’t want you to tie yourself to someone you can’t trust.”

  “You’re coming home, then? You’re going to help me raise this baby?”

  “I’m not coming back to Jeffe.” I’ve already decided that. I don’t know where I’ll land, but it won’t be there.

  She gives a dark chuckle. “Of course you’re not. And who would blame you after what I did to you?”

  I want to defend her and help ease her guilty conscience, but I swallow back the instinct. I’m not going to gloss over Veronica’s flaws anymore. I’m not going to cover for her with anyone, including herself. “You broke my heart,” I whisper.

  “I wish I hadn’t.” She sounds so sincere. I want to believe her.

  “I applied for a bunch of preschool assistant jobs this week. Places all over the country. I applied anywhere there was a good opportunity to do the kind of work I’ve always dreamed about. I never thought I’d have the courage to leave home for a job, but being here has made me realize I can do it. I thought I’d start over somewhere and maybe eventually go back to school. Get the degree I always wanted.” I take a breath, making myself pause before my offer. “I’m not coming home, but maybe you could join me wherever I land?”

  “Shit. Marcus is home. He doesn’t like me talking to you. Shit, shit. I have to go.”

  She hangs up, and I close my eyes against the sharp pain of feeling her yanked away from me.

  Ever since I shut Ethan down on Sunday, Dr. McBroody Pants is back. He’s avoided me as much as possible and barely spoken to me the few times we were in the same room. This afternoon, he picked up Lilly from school and left for the cabin.

  I think I’m still welcome there for Thanksgiving. I think.

  I’m exhausted because I’ve barely slept. I am so conflicted about my relationship with Ethan and the lies that mean I can’t let it be more than it is. I have to set clear boundaries. Even if I don’t want to. Even if those boundaries make him cold and distant when I want him hot and close.

  Because I bake for people when I feel insecure, I go to the grocery store for everything I need to wow his whole family. If I think Ethan might not want me there, I’m going to show up with a few desserts and the freshly baked bread he raved about on my birthday. I add lasagna ingredients to my cart at the last minute, too. They’re staying there all weekend, and at some point, they’re going to want something other than turkey.

  I head to the checkout with my ingredients and pile them onto the belt.

  “Hey there,” the cashier says. “Did ya find everything you need okay?”

  Should I make pumpkin cheesecake too? I bite my bottom lip. I’m definitely overdoing it. “I think so.”

  “You look familiar,” she says, studying me. Then she snaps her fingers. “You’re Dr. Jackson’s nanny.”

  “I . . .” I shake my head. “Y’all sure know each other around here.”

  She nods and beams at me like this is high praise. “Of course we do. So glad to meet you.”

  “Um . . . you too.” I force a smile.

  “You know, I’m not surprised he brought someone from out of town to care for Lilly. His wife wasn’t a local either. She moved here in high school from California and never really fit in.”

  I pull my wallet from my purse and nod. “Is that so?” I don’t feel comfortable having a conversation about Elena with this stranger when I can’t even have one with Ethan.

  She drops her voice to a stage whisper. “That woman cheated on him, you know that? Everybody knows that.”

  I can only stare at her. What am I supposed to say? I want to point out that talking about it now doesn’t serve any purpose, but even that seems like its own kind of affirmation of the gossip I don’t want to be a part of.

  “And then when he found out, she just left him and that sweet girl behind.”

  “Left him?” But Ethan’s wife died. Did she leave him before she had her heart attack? Is that part of the secrecy around her death? Are they trying to hide that from Lilly?

  “Selfish, if you ask me. So selfish.”

  “She had a heart attack.” My voice comes out weak, but I feel like I should say something and not just let this woman talk trash about Ethan’s wife.

  “Mmm-hmm, a heart attack. That’s what they told everybody.”

  I load the last of my items onto the belt and head to the other side of the register to help her load them into bags as she starts chattering on about all the nice women who would have loved to marry Dr. Jackson.

  When I get home, I put away my purchases and put the meat in a skillet to brown. I’ve always loved the meal preparation part of this job. Maybe because it makes me feel like I have a home of my own.

  I try to focus on the task at hand, but as I brown the meat, I keep thinking about the way the cashier talked about Ethan’s wife’s death as “selfish.” I can’t say the rumor of the affair took me by surprise after the note I found in her bookcase. Did she leave for her lover? Surely that’s what the cashier meant. Elena left and she died after she made that choice.

  That’s what it has to be. Why would anyone say a woman was selfish for dying?

  The only other explanation leaves a nasty knot in my stomach, and I push it away as I finish preparing the lasagna.

  Once everything’s cooked for the sauce and together in the pan, I step away from the stove to let it simmer. I’ll throw it in the Crock-Pot soon, and then after I’m done making the desserts, I’ll cook the noodles and layer in the sauce and cheese. I’ll take it like that to the Jackson cabin so it’ll be ready to slide into the oven whenever they want it.

  I stare at the chocolate cake ingredients on the counter. Maybe I should make chocolate truffle layer cake instead. Something with more flare would definitely be better.

  I turn to the built-in kitchen shelves and scan the cookbooks. I pull out an old classic and pause when I see a piece of paper peeking out the top. I open it up and read the note.

  Ethan,

  Love you with all my heart. Need you with all my soul. Thank you for being mine.

  Elena

  How long has that been here? Three years? Four? And how did it get here? Did one of them use it as a bookmark, days after the note had been exchanged?

  I think of the notes she wrote in her book in the bedroom.

  Tell Ethan you love him every time you see him!!!

  Love born in a lie is THE WRONG KIND OF LOVE!

  Was Ethan’s love born in a
lie? Or was it the love of “M,” the man who wrote the note she’d hidden in one of her books?

  After returning the note to where I found it, I carefully slide the cookbook back into place and choose another.

  I know I think I need to cook and bake to prove myself worthy. I’ve done this since I was a child.

  If you make yourself useful and don’t cause any trouble, they won’t send you away.

  I know what I’m doing even as I find a recipe for chocolate truffle cake. I know what I’m doing, and now I do it while thinking of Elena, Ethan’s dead wife, who wrote love notes instead of baking. Who thought if she could express her love to Ethan enough times, it might make up for her mistakes.

  A woman I never met but feel like I understand all too well.

  A woman I’m beginning to believe took her own life.

  Ethan

  Four days ago, Nic pushed me away with her little speech about not wanting a relationship. She drew a line in the sand, and it’s been hell trying to respect that line. And today it’s as if she’s trying to make the rest of my family fall in love with her. It’s working. And I’m jealous as hell.

  She showed up after breakfast with a carful of food. Desserts, fresh-baked bread, and even a lasagna she said she wanted us to have for when we were sick of Thanksgiving leftovers. Levi already had the hots for her, but when he saw the spread she brought, I think he was ready to propose marriage.

  Then, when everyone was bundling up to go sledding with Lilly, Jake and Carter insisted that Nic join us. She declined, saying she didn’t even know how, but of course they couldn’t leave her behind when she’d never gone sledding before.

  She didn’t disappoint, either. She loved it—screaming as she raced down the sleeping hill behind our cabin and running as fast as she could to the top to do it all over again. The only person I’ve ever met who was more enthusiastic about sledding is Lilly, and only barely.

  I couldn’t wait until it was over and we could go back to the house. Every minute I had to watch her with my family was miserable. Because she fits effortlessly. Because she’s like a piece I didn’t even realize we were missing.