Every Little Piece of Me: Orchid Valley, Book 1

by Ryan, Lexi

  When Marston cups my bare breasts, he groans against my mouth. My nipples tighten under his warm palms, and he rolls them in soft, torturous circles, making the muscles between my legs clench tight.

  My feet are on the ground, but I still feel like I’m floating. I need to get my head out of the clouds and focus. “We shouldn’t.” I gasp as he latches on to my neck, and my objection sounds even weaker.

  “Tell me you want me to stop,” he murmurs against my neck.

  “I don’t.” I tangle my hands in his hair, holding him close. “But this is going to make everything harder.”

  His hands drop from my breasts, leaving them cold and aching. “You’re right about that.” He grips my hips and hoists me up, pinning me between himself and the wall and guiding my legs to wrap around his waist. The thick length of him presses into me through his jeans and my thin shorts.

  I rock, desperate for the friction to relieve the growing ache between my legs. He tears his mouth off my neck and peels off my shirt, tossing it to the side before he cups a breast in one hand and lowers his mouth. He flicks my nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. He’s rough and then tender, sucking and then kissing, pulling and then licking, and I rock against him and thread my fingers through his hair again and again. I need more. I need to feel him on top of me, inside me, everywhere. I just want to lose myself and forget. I want . . .

  I force my eyes open as reality descends. Nothing has changed, and the more of myself I give to him, the more it’s going to hurt when the inevitable end comes. “Marston, stop.”

  He releases my nipple from his mouth and slowly kisses his way up to my collarbone. As he lowers me to the floor, he trails his mouth across my skin and up my neck before finally pulling back and looking at me. His eyes are dark, and he’s as breathless as I am—more so.

  “We can’t.” My objection sounds weak even to my ears.

  “You’re my wife. If you want this, we fucking can.”

  I swallow. “We still need to get divorced.”

  Marston steps back and shakes his head. “We don’t.”

  “You don’t understand. My life is here. Cami goes to a great school, and I love my job and my friends. Everyone at The Orchid counts on me, and I like knowing I provide them with the security they need.” For now, I think, but I push back that thought. It’s tomorrow’s problem.

  His gaze drops to my left hand and my naked ring finger. “If that was all you wanted, you wouldn’t have broken up with him. Why were you two even engaged to begin with?”

  I bow my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t.” He cups my jaw and lifts my face to his, eyes searching, looking for answers. “There’s a reason you decided to marry me in Vegas. That matters. And we’re going to figure it out.”

  I will steel into my veins to resist leaning into his touch. “There isn’t anything to figure out. It was a crazy, impulsive decision, and now we’re going to undo it.”

  “Married or divorced, it won’t change the way I feel about you.”

  There’s an insistent tug in my chest, a magnetic pull toward him. But if I follow it, I know everything else will fall apart. “You should go.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brinley

  “Are you excited about your vacation with Daddy and Victoria?” I ask when Cami finds me in the kitchen Saturday morning. “Everything’s together? You have your phone and your special pillow with your suitcase?”

  “Yes,” she says, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “You already told me.”

  I grin. “I’m a little jealous. I wish I got to visit Mickey Mouse this week.”

  “And you’ll miss my birthday,” she says, propping her hands on her hips.

  My iron will is the only thing keeping my smile in place. It will be the first time we’ve been apart on her birthday, but when Roman asked if he could take her to Disney for her tenth, I knew it’d be selfish to say no. “I don’t want to miss it,” I say. “In fact, maybe you should tell your dad you’re just going to hang out here.”

  “Disney or bust!” She waves her arms around in her favorite TikTok dance. “But first, breakfast with Grammy and Grampy.”

  Laughing, I tug gently on her ponytail. “Yes. It’s up to you how you want to do your hair, but fair warning—if you wear it up, you’ll get Grandma’s lecture about how much prettier your hair is down and how important it is to make yourself look your best.”

  Cami pats her hair then shrugs. “I’ll deal with the lecture. I like it up.”

  That’s my girl. “I wish I’d had even a fraction of your backbone when I was your age.”

  “I know Grammy and Grampy love me, even if they don’t approve of everything I do.”

  I smile, but my heart twists at how sure she is in this. For so much of my life, I wasn’t. When I think of what I need to tell my parents this morning, it’s clear I’m still not. But one person I am sure of is my daughter.

  I take her hand. “Sweetie, I need to tell Grandma and Grandpa something today, but I wanted to tell you first.”

  “Is it about the wedding?”

  My heart squeezes hard. I love this girl so much. Please, God, let me do right by her. “Yeah. Julian and I broke up last night, and there won’t be a wedding.” I smile, wanting her to see I’m not falling apart. “But he still cares about you, and this won’t change that.” I’ll kick him in the nuts if he makes a liar out of me. Before I agreed to marry him, I made him promise he wouldn’t let whatever happened between us affect his relationship with Cami.

  Cami pats my hand. “That’s okay, Mommy. You’re fierce, and you can handle anything.”

  My smile turns genuine. “So are you.”

  “Are you going to marry someone else, then?”

  I choke on nothing. “No plans right now,” I say lamely. “Do you have any other questions?”

  She looks at the ceiling then shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Are Grammy and Grampy going to be mad?”

  When it comes to my parents, I have to walk a thin line for Cami. On the one hand, I pride myself in being honest with my daughter about everything—with the current awkward exception of my marital status. On the other hand, she adores her grandparents, and I don’t ever want to say anything that would jeopardize her relationship with them. “They might be,” I finally say. “But they’ll be okay.”

  “It’s not their life anyway,” she says.

  Amen, sister.

  * * *

  I’m a ball of nerves as I drive to the Orchid Valley Country Club. Cami and I are meeting my parents for breakfast at nine, then after we eat, I’ll have mimosas on the patio with Mom and Dad while Cami attends the “dining room etiquette” class the club offers for kids once a month. I grew up going to those things and detested them. I’d never force Cami to endure the rigid and often sexist lessons, but she says they’ll be useful when she runs for POTUS, and I can get behind that.

  Mom and Dad are punctual if nothing else, and they expect the same of everyone around them, which is why Cami and I arrive ten minutes early, but we’ve barely been seated when my Mom arrives.

  “Where’s Julian?” Mom asks the moment she reaches the table. She stares hard at the seat next to me, as if she’s willing him to appear.

  “Gonna cut right to the chase, then,” I mutter, but my words are completely muffled by Cami’s sprint toward her grandmother.

  “Grammy!” she shouts, jumping out of her chair.

  As disappointed as my parents were to find themselves with a pregnant teenager, they truly love my daughter, and my daughter loves them. Cami is probably the only reason I still have a somewhat functional relationship with my parents. I keep the peace for her—even if my parents and I don’t always agree on . . . anything.

  Mom stoops down to hug Cami then whispers something in her ear that has her running to the kitchens, where I’m sure she’s chasing down some delicious baked goods my mom instructed the staff to have on hand
for her.

  I arch a brow at my mom, who pulls her most innocent face. “Just one tiny treat won’t ruin her meal,” she says.

  Sighing, I rise to hug my mother. “Julian’s not going to make it today.” I force a smile and lie through my teeth. “Last-minute work meeting.”

  Mom gives me a hard look. “He works hard and he looks at you like you’re a prize. Maybe we should move up the wedding to make sure he doesn’t get away.”

  I fight back a grimace and take my seat. Sometimes the best thing I can do is not respond. I’m thankful Cami is still busy in the kitchen when Dad finally makes it to the table. “Where is Julian today?” His eyes land on my hand, and his lips twist. He’s spotted what Mom somehow missed. My naked ring finger.

  “He can’t make it, but I actually need to talk to you and Mom about the wedding,” I say, shifting under his scrutiny. I’m twenty-seven years old, and he can still make me feel three inches tall when he looks at me like that.

  The air in the room grows stiff with his tension. “What did you do, Brinley?” Dad asks sharply.

  Mom takes a seat and lifts her glass of ice water with a shaking hand. “Let’s at least hear her out before we get upset, Abraham.”

  Dad frowns and sits beside his wife.

  I take a deep breath and focus on Mom as I say the words I’m sure she’s already anticipating. “Julian and I broke up last night. We’re canceling our wedding.”

  Mom gasps. “What?” Okay, so maybe she hadn’t figured it out. “You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding.”

  It’s Dad who doesn’t look shocked. “You’re always determined to make fools of us all, aren’t you?” He shakes his head. “Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?”

  I drop my gaze to my hand and my bare ring finger. “I’m so sorry for the position this puts you in.”

  “What about Cami?” Mom asks. “I was so proud of you for finally doing right by her—giving her a strong male influence in her home—and now you’re just throwing that away. And why? Do you even have a good reason for this?”

  I lift my chin and roll my shoulders back. “The truth is, I never had a good reason to marry him.”

  “Ridiculous,” Dad grumbles. “You have no sense.”

  “It’s true. Julian and I are good friends, and we care about each other a lot, but not enough to get married.” I swallow and try to muster my courage. “Cami and I are doing fine on our own, but I was hoping you’d consider releasing my trust to me early even without the wedding. I wonder if the provisions in the trust might allow for exceptions if—”

  “Why would I do that?” My father’s face is red, as if his anger is literally making his blood boil beneath his skin. “You’ve just proven exactly how irresponsible you are, and you want us to shell out a bunch of cash for you to play nail salon for the rest of your life?”

  I swallow, bracing myself for an uphill battle. “I understand why it might look that way, but I’m only asking for the money so I can make an investment. You know I planned to buy The Orchid after the wedding, and I still want to do that. If I don’t buy it before June, I’ll lose my chance, and the family will sell to someone else.”

  “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you destroyed your chances with a good man,” Dad says.

  Mom places a hand on his arm. “Abraham, let’s slow down. Maybe we could consider this investment.” She turns to me. “Your grandfather decided the terms of your trust, but maybe we could talk to our advisors and consider buying The Orchid ourselves—that way you don’t lose it, and we don’t have to compromise on terms that were important to us.”

  “No.” The word snaps out of me, but I take a deep breath and try to explain. “I want this for myself, and I don’t think it would be good for our relationship if you were the owners of the company I was running. We tried that when I worked for Knox Bourbon after graduation, remember? I don’t want to work for you.”

  Dad pushes back from the table and stands, ignoring it when his chair tips over behind him. “Lucky for you it’s not an option anyway. You’ve proven yourself to be unreliable and unprofessional, and I’d rather throw my money into a fire than spend it on a business left in your hands.” He turns to Mom and nods toward the exit. “Come on, Harriet. I can’t look at her anymore.”

  I’ve heard those words so many times before. I keep waiting for the day they don’t hurt, but today’s not that day. My father knows where to land his punches.

  Cami returns to the table with a smudge of chocolate on her mouth. “Why does everyone look so mad?”

  Dad’s eyes blaze with fury. “Because your mother is a fool and a disgrace.”

  “She is not!” Cami folds her arms and glares at him.

  “Cami, baby . . .” But what do I say? It’s fine? It’s not, and I don’t want her believing it’s okay for people to treat others the way my father treats me.

  Dad turns on his heel and stomps off.

  Mom watches him, then shakes her head. “I wish you wouldn’t provoke him so much.” Then she too heads for the exit.

  Cami fights a frown as she watches them leave. And I hate them for putting that hurt in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have told them here.”

  She shakes her head and pats my shoulder. “I don’t think you’re a fool.”

  A sob catches in my throat, and my eyes burn as I pull her against me for a hug. “Thanks, baby.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Brinley

  March 10th, before

  “This has to be the most beautiful spot on the planet,” I say, turning a slow circle and trying to take in the beautiful day. When I turn back to Marston, he’s smiling up at me from his spot on the picnic blanket. “What?”

  He shakes his head slowly. “I’ve never met someone like you. Most people walk around taking the beauty around them for granted, and here you are, seeing it in your own literal backyard.” His smile seems to flicker.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “This place gives you so much joy, and I think I’m just realizing what an asshole I am to ask you to leave.”

  My heart squeezes in my chest and I sink to my knees in front of him. “There are beautiful backyards all over the country.” I take his hands in mine and intertwine our fingers. “Have you heard back from any of them?”

  He nods, knowing what I’m talking about. College is all we talk about lately. “UCLA and Washington University both offered special financial aid packages since, you know, my mom and stuff.”

  “So that’s California and . . .”

  “St. Louis.”

  My heart sinks. Even if I follow him for college, two years apart feels like way too much. “Which do you like better?”

  He laughs. “Based on their websites, you mean?”

  “You should visit the one in St. Louis. You could drive that, couldn’t you?”

  “It’s about eight hours away, so I could, technically, but I don’t know if Uncle Henry’s car could handle it.”

  “Wow. That’s farther than I thought.” I was hoping he’d go somewhere I could visit on the weekends, but sixteen hours round trip? Alone and hiding my real destination from my parents? I deflate as the reality of it hits me. We’ll never see each other.

  He cups my face in both of his hands and leans his forehead against mine. “I wish you could come with me. I’d do anything to get you away from him.”

  I stiffen at the mention of my father, and that old guilt for revealing private business to someone who’s not family trickles like familiar poison in my veins. “That’s not why I wish I could go with you.”

  “I know, but that’s why it’s so hard for me to leave.”

  I fold my arms. “And here I thought it was hard because you wanted to be with me.”

  He shifts, rolling to his knees in a posture that mimics mine, and then pulls my body against his. “I do want to be with you. I want us to be able to walk down the street holding hands and to sleep i
n the same bed.” He sweeps gentle kisses across each of my cheeks. “I don’t just want to plan a life with you. I want to live it. Someday, I want to watch you walk down the aisle toward me and know you’re mine and I’m yours. But I want all that without having to sacrifice your heart to that fucking asshole.”

  I flinch, jerking back like he’s hit me. Some days when I’m angry with my father it’s easy to hate him for his cruelty, for the way he always cuts me down, for his inability to treat my sister like anything other than a porcelain doll. But some days, Marston’s criticism of Dad feels like criticism of me. “He is my father, and I don’t want to feel like I have to choose between having my dad in my life and having my boyfriend.”

  “Shit, Brinley. I’m sorry,” he says, his face crumpling. “I’m gonna work so fucking hard that you won’t ever have to make that choice. I’ll be the kind of man he wants for his daughter. I promise.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Brinley

  Present day

  Even after Marston left town, the south dock at Lake Blackledge remained my favorite spot for when I needed to think or be alone. It doesn’t disappoint today. The sun sparkles on the water, and the sound of it lapping against the shore washes away my fears.

  Right after Roman picked Cami up for their trip, I made the call to Mrs. Wright to let her know I wasn’t getting married and therefore wouldn’t have the funds to purchase The Orchid before her June deadline. She’s done so much to give me the chance to buy it, and it didn’t seem fair to put it off any longer. She was understanding and kind, just like she’s been for years, but there was no offer to hold off on selling, no suggestion that she’d consider anything but a cash offer. Ending the call felt like closing the door on my dream, and I came straight out here. I’ve been staring out at the water ever since.