by JB Heller
I lift my chin in greeting. “Hey, man. Nice to meet you.”
He nods, wrapping an arm around Kinsley, making his claim perfectly clear. Like it wasn’t already by the way his gaze hasn’t left her since they entered the room. “Hi,” he says. “Are you the author?”
“That’d be me.” I grin and take a swig of my beer.
“How’s the write-up going?” he asks Emory.
That’s probably something I should have asked her since we’ve been chatting and hanging out for a while now. I’d almost forgotten about the review. “Yeah,” I say, tipping my chin to look at her. “How’s that going?”
She shakes her head at me then turns her attention back to Atticus. “Great, it’s all done, actually. I just have to show this guy.” She thumbs at me. “Then get his agent to see it before I publish it.”
“Wait, really?” I ask. She hadn’t told me it was finished—but we’ve been a bit distracted by other stuff recently.
“Yeah,” she says, shrugging. “I forgot to tell you. I finished it last week but got sidetracked by wedding stuff, I guess.”
I nod. Sounds legit. “Can I see it?” I ask.
She arches a brow. “Like, right now?”
“Why not?” I push, lifting a brow right back at her.
She swallows and shrugs again. “I mean, you can if you want. But can it wait until later? I’m in a pizza coma, and I don’t want to move.”
I eye her skeptically, trying to figure out what she’s not telling me. But I let it go. “Sure,” I say then sling an arm over her shoulder and settle back into the couch cushions to watch the show.
Today we’re picnicking in the park. My black-and-white checkered pants are going to end up with grass stains, but the smiles on Everly’s and Hazel’s little faces will be worth it. Besides, my dry cleaner is a miracle worker.
I chase the girls behind a tree where Sebastian is hiding in wait. He jumps out, and they squeal in excitement, turning on a dime. Everly runs straight for me with an unsteady Hazel wobbling along behind her. They wrap themselves around my legs, trying to drag me down, and I pretend to succumb to their strength, dropping to the ground.
Splayed out on the grass, I laugh as Everly scrambles up to sit on my stomach and tickle my sides. Then, Hazel scurries up to my hair, shoving it into her mouth right as Sebastian scoops her into his arms. She takes a good amount of my hair with her, and I cry out, my hand flying to my head. “Ow!”
“Shoot, sorry,” he says, dropping to his knees beside me. He places Hazel on her feet then bends down to brush a kiss to the top of my head.
“Ain’t you two just the cutest,” Jolene Beaugard says in her thick Southern drawl.
I grin up at Jake’s mother as a crimson blush stains my cheeks. “Thank you, Mrs. Beaugard.”
Her face sours. “Oh, hush with that. You call me Jolene, you hear.”
“Okay,” I say, unable to wipe the smile from my face. I’ve had the best day with all of them. Jake’s family are some of the most lovely, warm, and welcoming people I’ve ever met, which makes my heart clench with happiness for Storm and Sebastian. They deserve a family like this after the way their own parents treated them.
The Beaugard’s have practically adopted them both. And you would never in a million years know that Everly isn’t their biological granddaughter—not from the way they love all over her just as much as they do with baby Hazel.
It makes me want to be a part of it, too. Not that my family isn’t great—it is. But mine are always busy working and have very little time for picnics in the park.
Sebastian offers me a hand up, and I take it. He slides our palms together, then he hoists me upright. Once I’m on my feet, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, tugging me in for a hug, and whispers into my neck, “We’ve got this couple thing down. Nobody would believe it if we told them we’re not actually together.”
And with that little slap of reality, I draw back from him, a fake smile plastered on my face. “I promised to put on a good show,” I say, stepping out of his embrace altogether.
His brows furrow as he examines me, and I know he’s about to ask me what’s wrong, so I blurt, “I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.” Then, I stride off toward the block of public toilets on the other side of the clearing.
When I exit the toilet, I stare at my reflection in the mirror above the sink as I wash my hands. I don’t look any different, but deep inside, I feel different. I’m developing real feelings for my fake boyfriend. Shit.
Making my way back toward the group I’ve spent the last couple of hours with, I notice a gorgeous brunette talking to Sebastian. Her hand rests on his arm as they converse, and he smiles politely at her, but I can tell he’s not really paying attention to the words she’s saying. Instead, his gaze is traveling around the group—maybe looking for me?
Then, his eyes lock on mine, and a genuine smile brightens his face. He lifts a hand, gesturing for me to join them. I take a deep breath, pulling myself together, then I approach.
“This is Emory,” Sebastian says as soon as I’m close enough for him to tug me to his side where he curls his arm around my waist.
The brunette eyes me, her gaze traveling to the stains on my pants then up to the simple black tee that reads Suck it up, buttercup. Then, she zeros in on the placement of Sebastian’s palm on my hip. Her lips purse. She extends a manicured hand my way. “Jayla. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”
I knew this was coming, meeting the bitchy ex, but I wasn’t expecting it yet. I should have prepared myself because, holy shit, this woman is runway-model beautiful, and she knows it.
Swallowing down my apprehension, I take her hand, shaking it as firmly as I would a man’s, then I tilt my head. “Jayla, hmm nope. Doesn’t ring any bells. Sorry.”
Her top lip curls, and her eyes dart to Sebastian, accusation written all over her face. “You didn’t tell your new girlfriend about the woman you spent the last seven years with?”
He plays along with my charade—thank God—and shrugs. “Emory knows I was in a long-term relationship before we met. But the simple fact is, she’s my future, and you’re my past. The details didn’t matter.”
If looks could kill, Jayla would slay us both on the spot. She doesn’t say anything else as she turns away and stalks toward Storm.
My shoulders slump. “That was slightly terrifying,” I mumble.
“She never used to be like that,” he says, looking after her. “But over the years, she changed. I guess I didn’t really notice just how much until after we split.”
“Love is blind,” I say, patting his chest.
He looks down at me, his gaze intense and penetrating. “The love was lost there long before it was over between us. I just didn’t realize it.”
I can’t handle the way he’s looking at me, curiosity burning bright in his eyes, so I turn away from him. But he doesn’t let me go far. Stepping up behind me, he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me back into his firm chest. We stand there in silence. Could he be just as afraid to say how he feels as I am?
When Sebastian finally takes me home, I rub my palms over my thighs and prepare to make up a reason he shouldn’t come up to my apartment with me. I need time to myself to sort through my thoughts. We kiss and fool around, but this afternoon he made it clear this is all a ruse, and I don’t know what to do.
“You look tired, and I’m wiped,” he says, smiling softly. He reaches over the center console and takes my hand in his as he pulls to the curb outside my building. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmurs, bringing my hand to his mouth then brushing his lips over the back of it.
Later that night, I’m drinking a beer on the back porch after everyone has gone to bed, my thoughts circling around Emory.
“Hey.” Jake’s deep voice startles me, and I jerk in surprise.
“Hey, man. Thought you were in bed,” I say.
He shrugs then runs a hand through his hair. “I was. Couldn’t sleep, though. Came down to get
a drink and saw you sitting out here. What’s up?”
I take a swig of my drink then let the almost-empty bottle hang from my fingers between my legs. Hunching forward, I look out over the yard and say nothing.
“I saw you with Jayla today. How’d that go?” he asks after a beat of silence.
“Brutal,” I mutter. “She was a total bitch to Emory, but Em held her ground.”
Jake sits beside me, resting his elbows on his bent knees like I am. “Figured she would be. I still can’t figure out why Storm still hangs out with her. I thought you were the thread holding those two together, but here we are.”
“They were friends long before Jayla and I got together,” I say—not that he doesn’t already know that.
“Emory seems cool. Must have balls of steel to take on Jayla.” He chuckles.
I grin, thinking about the look on Jayla’s face when Emory acted like she’d never heard of her. “You should have seen it. It was fucking awesome how Em cut Jay down today. I just hope she keeps her distance now.”
“Doubt that’ll happen,” Jake says, bumping my shoulder with his. “She wants you back, man.”
I scoff. “No, she doesn’t. She’s just pissed that I’ve moved on.”
Jake shakes his head. “Nah, man. She was asking Storm a million questions about the new girl. Wouldn’t let up about her. And when Storm asked what her problem was, she flat-out said she thought you guys just needed a break and you would get back together at some point.”
I swivel my head to stare at him. “Ec-fucking-scuse me?” What the fuck is she playing at? My temples pound with an oncoming headache, and I knock back the rest of my beer then drop the bottle by my feet. “She ended things with me,” I grit out between clenched teeth. “This is bullshit.”
“Hey, dude, don’t shoot the messenger,” Jake says, holding his hands up in a placating manner. “I didn’t say I thought you should get back with her. In fact, fuck her. I don’t even like her. I only tolerate her for Storm.”
I swallow back the words I want to say. I want to tell Jake why we really broke up. Tell him he’s right about her—she is a self-centered bitch. But I can’t because Jake—being the loyal son of a bitch he is—would go back to my sister and tell her everything.
Fuck.
I hang my head and run my hands over my scalp. He pats my shoulder—an attempt to comfort me, I’m sure.
“Don’t worry, man. I’ll talk to Spencer, get him to run interference if she tries to come near you again,” he says.
Lifting my head, I make eye contact with my almost brother-in-law, grateful that his family has taken me in as one of their own. Even his little brother, Spence, has my back. “Thanks, Jake. I appreciate it.”
“If you want, I can tell Storm to eighty-six the couples dance at the wedding. That shit’s going to be awkward,” he says, cringing slightly.
“It’s cool; I’m a grown-ass man. I can handle spinning my ex around a dance floor for three minutes to make my sister’s day everything she’s ever wanted,” I tell him. I mean, yeah, I’d rather not. But for Storm, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do.
He shrugs and slaps me on the back one more time then stands. “Right, well, I’m heading in, then. You should too; we’ve got an early tee off at the course tomorrow. And I don’t want you blaming lack of sleep when I kick your ass.” And with that, he leaves me to my thoughts.
Drumming my fingers on the back of my neck, I know I need to fess up to Emory about my growing feelings toward her. But I want this week to show her just how good we can be together.
I could have punched myself for making that stupid jibe about us not being a real couple this afternoon. The light in her eyes extinguished the moment the words left my lips, and I instantly regretted them. I don’t even know why I said it—maybe to see how she’d react? Either way, it was fucking stupid.
I really hope Spence can keep Jayla away from us, because if she truly does want to get back together, I can see her doing everything in her power to fuck up this thing Emory and I have going. And I can’t let that happen—especially after today.
Every day that I spend with her makes me like her more. She fits seamlessly into my life. The girls adore her, and she seems to be just as smitten with them, if the way she was playing with us today is anything to go by. And the way she was with Ever when we went shopping? Two peas in a pod, those two.
She makes me think that maybe, just maybe, if I play it right, I can have it all. My nieces, my writing, and someone to share it all with.
I begged off from attending the golfing day yesterday, knowing I would have been left to schmooze with the women in the clubhouse while the men played. I was not up for another run-in with Jayla, so I told Sebastian something came up with my family, and I had to go see my mother.
It was a big, fat lie. But to make myself feel better about telling it, I did go see Mom.
She was understandably surprised when I arrived, but she dropped everything to hang out with me and listen to me bemoan the situation I’ve found myself in. She patted me on the cheek, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Oh, Emmy, you’ve always had the most beautiful heart. If this boy is worth your love, he’ll see it too.”
Her words play on repeat in my head as Sebastian drives us out of the city Friday afternoon on our way to the vineyard the wedding will be held at. Should I just tell him how I feel? Lay my heart on the line and hope he reciprocates? Can I even do that?
I’m the first to admit I’m a hopeless romantic, but when it comes to my own love life, I’m freaking terrified of getting hurt. I thought I’d found my person once; he was perfect, and sweet, and everything I could have ever dreamed of. Until he wasn’t.
Ever since then, I’ve been cautious of anything that seems too good to be true. And Sebastian Bailey is like all my favorite things rolled into one neat package. He’s hot; he’s funny; he loves words; he has asshole-ish tendencies, yet he’s sweet when he wants to be. And the way he is with his nieces... Stick a fork in me, ’cause I’m done.
“You okay over there?” he asks, drawing me from my thoughts.
I turn to face him, smiling at his profile. “Yeah, I’m good.”
He glances at me for the briefest of moments from the corner of his eye. “You sure? You’re awful quiet. Did everything go okay with your mom yesterday?”
“It was great. I’ve missed her. We don’t spend enough time together,” I tell him then change the subject. “So, what’s on the agenda when we arrive?”
“We’ll check into our cabin, get settled, and then we’ve got the rehearsal dinner tonight,” he says, keeping his attention on the road ahead.
“Cool-cool-cool,” I mutter, more to myself than him, but he chuckles.
“You get that from Brooklyn Nine-Nine?” he asks. “I love that show.”
My grin is instant and the first real one I’ve worn all day. “I’ve been saying it way longer than Jake Peralta.”
“Sure you have.” Sebastian chuckles. “Who’s your favorite?”
“As if I could even choose. I mean, Rosa is the shit, but there’s just something about Jake that I’m a little bit in love with,” I say.
“I’d have picked you as more of a Gina fan.”
I nod. “Gina is up there. Her confidence is something else,” I muse. “I honestly don’t think I can pick just one. That’s probably why it’s one of my all-time favorite shows. It’s like the new Friends.”
“Explain that,” he demands. “Because I see no correlation between Friends and Brooklyn Nine-Nine.”
“Okay, so you know how there are just some shows you can watch over and over and they never get old? Friends, The Nanny, MASH, Happy Days...” I list off a few of my personal preferences, and when Sebastian nods, I resume. “So, Brooklyn Nine-Nine is like one of those. It will never get old.”
He continues nodding. “Yeah, okay, I get what you’re saying. The Fonz will never die,” he says. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he mimics running a comb throu
gh his hair with the other, saying, “Ayyy.”
I crack up, laughing at his Fonzie impression. “Exactly.”
The remainder of the drive is spent chatting about TV series, movies, and even the actors we like and dislike. Unsurprisingly, we agree on a lot of them, and it’s just another thing that makes me think we could actually make this work in real life.
When he pulls up in front of a gorgeous log cabin and turns the car off, I cannot wipe the smile off my face. “This place is really nice,” I tell him as he unloads our bags from the trunk.
“Just wait until you see inside,” he says, a seductive smirk on his lips.
Swinging open the front door, he steps back and allows me to enter first. Holy shit, he wasn’t wrong. This place is freaking amazing. My gaze bounces from the lavish bed with a cozy-looking duvet and big fluffy pillows to the lounge area by a large, already-roaring fireplace, admiring the open-plan layout.
“See what I mean,” he says against my neck.
My skin prickles as his breath washes over the sensitive skin behind my ear, and I lean back into him. “Wow,” I mumble. It’s all my brain will allow me to say right now.
Sebastian drops our bags just inside the entry then closes the door, blocking out the outside world. I feel his presence at my back before he gently glides a fingertip down my spine, causing a shiver of anticipation to race through me.
We haven’t done more than kiss since I blew him after the luncheon earlier in the week, and his nearness makes my pulse pound in my ears. There’s nothing stopping us from taking this to the next level now... nothing at all.
His large palm cups the back of my neck, then his free hand is tipping my chin and turning my face to him as he presses in against my back. His soft lips brush mine ever so gently once, then twice, before his tongue glides over my bottom lip, drawing a moan from me as he simultaneously rocks his erection into my butt.
My hands lift to grip the back of his head as he deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue inside my mouth. I twist in his embrace until we’re facing each other. I wrap my arms around his neck. He drops his hands to my ass and lifts as I jump and hook my legs around his hips.