Betting on Beaumont: A Brooklyn Novel #3 (The Brooklyn Series) (14 page)

-Brooklyn

Stepping out of the shower, I grab my towel off of the hook and quickly wrap it around my body before getting to work on drying my hair. Not feeling the need to do anything with it, I blow dry it and toss it up into a bun on top of my head. Cranking up the music on my phone, I carry it into the bedroom while scrolling through my notifications.

My phone has been blowing up all afternoon since the news of my elopement broke first thing this morning. Now, I can’t get five seconds of piece without someone messaging me, texting me or calling me. I’m two seconds away from powering off my phone and simply blocking out the world.

I had a voice mail from my parents when I turned my phone back on after landing. To say they were shocked and a tad ticked off that I got married and didn’t even bother to call them, would be putting it lightly. But they seem to be taking it better than Dixon’s parents’. I’ve avoided calling them back because I’m too hurt to talk to anyone right now. I sent my mother a quick text letting her know I’d call her later. I need time to process the last twenty-four hours before I open up this whole can of worms with them.

I fly home in two days because I have a few scenes to film at the end of the week, so I plan on tackling the whole Dixon and wedding conversation then, once I’m home and can talk to my parents’ face to face.

For now, I’m going to drink wine, practice my lines and forget about Dixon—or at least try to.

Rummaging through my dresser drawers, I find a pair of underwear, my favorite PINK boyfriend tank that says ‘I know the Guac is extra’ and my neon, paint splatter affects yoga capris. I need a pop of color to help boost the dark, depressing mood I’m stuck in today.

No one should be this miserable after getting married. Why the hell was I stupid enough to let that piece of shit talk me into eloping anyways? Did I lose my common sense the second he walked into my life? Because it seems like since I met Dixon, my entire fricking world has been flipped upside down, shaken around and then kicked around a few times.

One thing I know for certain is I don’t want to see his heart breaking face ever again. He can shove those annulment papers straight up his man whoring ass.

Strutting into the kitchen, with my phone in my hand, I sing along to Miranda Lambert’s, White Liar at the top of my longs as I imagine myself singing it to Dixon. Deciding that tacos sound like a good idea for an early dinner, I grab a bag of frozen chicken strips out of the freezer and grab a pan out of the cupboard. As I’m letting the chicken cook, I walk around the kitchen studying my lines from the new script I got on Friday. I’m eager to see what will be happening this week on
As the Days go by.

With my script in one hand, and a wooden spoon in the other, I read my lines as I stir the chicken, I’ve just sprinkled taco seasonings onto. I’m so lost in the script that at first I don’t hear anyone at the door until I hear what sounds like a freaking jack hammer trying to bust my front door down.

“Ahh!” I scream in surprise as the pounding on the door travels into the kitchen. Jumping in surprise, I practically sling shot pieces of chicken across the kitchen. Tossing my script onto the countertop, I turn the chicken down to simmer and pad across the bamboo floors into the living room to see who the hell is beating on my door like the fucking house is on fire.

Rounding the corner, I spot a bouquet of hot pink roses covering a very tall body through the frosted glass window. My hands begin to shake and my heart begins to pound in my ears as I reach the door slowly opening it.

The second the door opens the flowers move revealing Dixon standing on the other side of them. He looks nervous and slightly terrified, which he rightly should be, especially since he’s had the nerve to show up here after breaking my damn heart only a few hours ago.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I snap at him as I grip the door and blockade the entrance making sure he understands he isn’t welcome inside.

He’s hugging a box of chocolates to his chest with his left arm, while gripping a bottle of my favorite wine in his left hand. If he thinks he can ask for an annulment and then show up here trying to be all romantic and I will simply forgive him, he’s lost his fucking mind.

Swallowing hard, I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down his throat. His ball cap is pulled down low shielding his eyes making it hard for me to read him. As I stand here before him I fight an internal battle with myself. I want to hit him and scream at him, telling him how much I hate his guts and never want to see him again. While, the other part of me wants to pretend none of today happened and drag him inside so I can get lost in his kiss and his touch.

“I came to apologize…” He drawls, holding out the flowers to me and flashes me his smile, that instantly makes my stomach flip flop, and my knees weaken.

Trying to stay strong, I square my shoulders and shove the flowers back at him, “You can take your pathetic apology and shove it up your ass.” I start to shut the door, but pause for a moment, with a slight glare I reach outside, snatching the chocolates and wine from him. “I’ll keep these, the flowers you can toss in the fucking ocean for all I care.” Slamming the door in his face, I blow out a shaky breath before clicking the lock and walking back into the kitchen.

Slamming the wine bottle onto the counter top, I quickly rummage through the drawer finding the cork screw. Popping the bottle open, I fill a wine glass and slide up onto a bar stool. I take a sip of wine and start unwrapping the chocolates. I’d be an idiot to not let myself enjoy this wine and these chocolates.

I deserve them dammit. They’re helping ease the piercing pain in my chest thanks to the egotistical asshole.

Plucking a chocolate out of the box, I plop it into my mouth, savoring the sweet chocolate and smooth caramel as it melts on my tongue. Picking up my wine glass, I slide off of the bar stool and walk over to the fridge to get everything out I need for my tacos.

Standing by the stove, I begin making my plate, laying out the soft tortilla shell, and layering on the toppings. Taking a big gulp of my wine, I finish off the glass and reach around behind me, grabbing the bottle and filling my glass. I try to push the thought of Dixon out of my head as I carry my plate and wine over to the tiny table near the picture window overlooking the ocean below, but it’s simply impossible. It’s as if he’s permanently imbedded in my damn brain and refuses to leave!

Letting curiosity get the better of me, I cautiously pad across the bamboo flooring toward the front door. I can't help but wonder if Dixon is still outside or if he left. Sure, I slammed the door in his face, but come on! He should've put up a little bit of a fight!

Moving the curtain away from the window beside the front door, I peer out onto the deck looking left and then right. I don't notice him at first then catch movement out of the corner of my eye, spotting him lying on a lounger.

My heart flutters in my chest for a moment as I realize he's still here.

Should I go out to him? Or let him sit out there to sweat it out a little?

I'll let him sit out there a little longer. After the emotional roller coaster, he's put me on over the last twenty-four hours, he deserves to sweat it out.

My phone beings playing Savannah’s ringtone as I head back over to my dinner waiting to be devoured. Snatching my phone up off of the table, I sit down at the table and sip my wine while reading her text.

Hey chick, how u holding up?? U hear from Dixon at all??

I glance out the wall of windows beside the table, immediately spotting Dixon. He's lying on the lounger on his phone, I can see him better at this angle. I watch as he types away on his phone with his ball cap pulled low on his head. I'm not getting any messages from him, so I find myself wondering who he's talking to. Jealousy burns inside of me as I let my mind wander to all the women in his phone.

He's here though, waiting on my hot head to cool off and finally hear him out. He wouldn't be here still, sitting outside on my deck of he didn't want to fix things.

Maybe he's texting Kayden getting love advice. The idea of it makes me giggle.

I text Savannah back,

Heyyy girl! I'm doing okay I guess. Done crying, now onto getting drunk and trying to forget today even happened. Dixon's actually here...well out on the deck. He showed up trying to apologize with wine, chocolates & flowers. I slammed the door in his face, of course...but not before I took the wine & chocolates. It helps with my plan to drink my sadness away lol.

I hit send and try to push thoughts of Dixon out of my head. Taking a bite of my taco I watch my phone as the gray bubble appears showing Savannah texting back.

Haa! That’s hilarious! Good for you, make him squirm a little. I talked with Kayden and he said the only reason Dixon asked you for an annulment is because of his parents. Learning Dixon got married in Vegas was a big enough shocker. But then to know he risked their family’s money pushed his father just a tad over the line.
 

I’m all for signing some kind of marital agreement but instead of his parents’ asking us to do that, they automatically went straight to us getting an annulment!

Just give them some time to let it sink in. It’ll all blow over soon enough. As for Dixon and you, y’all need to sit down and actually talk about all of this. I know u are not one for tapping in with ur feelings, but u two need to have an adult conversation about what the hell u want in this relationship. If u want to stay married, tell him and fight for him, B. I know u love to act tough and say fuck Dixon and ur feelings. But if u walk away and don’t fight for him I know u will regret it. U guys are the craziest couple I know but ur crazy seems to work lol. Just know I’ll support whatever u decide to do.

I re read Savannah’s text as I let her words turn inside of my head. I know she’s right. Ignoring Dixon isn’t going to help anything. We really do need to talk about everything. I don’t know if I am ready to hear what he has to say.

I finish eating my tacos and refill my wine, before finally working up the courage to go outside and face Dixon. I’m getting the feeling that he isn’t going to leave until I hear him out. So I mind as well do it now so I can get it over with and get back to studying my lines. I can’t focus when I’m too busy stressing over my maybe marriage.

I have no idea how I manage to get myself into these situations. I blame it on a certain tall, good looking, country boy who has a way of getting me to do whatever he wants. I’m a sucker for that sexy drawl. It doesn’t help that he has a face that makes my brain go stupid the second he’s in front of me.

Slowly opening the front door, I lean against the open doorway and peer across the deck at Dixon. He’s lying on the lounger with his hat pulled low and his feet crossed at his ankles. His phones lying on his stomach and his fingers are laced together behind his head, he almost looks like he’s on the verge of falling asleep. The thought of him being willing to sleep out here all night waiting on my stubborn ass to finally let him in makes my heart dance in my chest.

He may not be the smartest man when it comes to love and relationships, but I know he loves me. That is one thing I am willing to bet my heart on.

“Are you gonna lay out here all night? Or are you gonna get your ass up off of that lounger and prove to me you’re sorry?” A cool breeze blows up off of the shore whipping my pony tail around the side of my head as I step out of the doorway toward him.

Dixon kicks his feet over the lounger, onto the deck and climbs to his feet as he adjusts his hat, and slides his gaze onto me. My breath catches in my throat as his eyes full of intensity lock onto mine. Within seconds he’s closing the space between us and wrapping his arms around my waist, hugging to his chest.

“I’m going to spend every goddamn day proving to you how sorry I am, Brooklyn…” He turns his head toward the ocean as a flock of seagulls yell overhead, “You have no idea how bad I feel, baby. I was a fuckin’ asshole back in Vegas. I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I sure as hell hope you’ll give it to me.”

His eyes filled with remorse slide back to mine as he holds me with shaky hands. I’ve never seen this side of Dixon, vulnerable and exposed to me. A small part of me wants to torture him, make him suffer a little more but after months of the roller coaster of emotions we’ve both been on, I don’t have the energy to keep fighting with him. I want to finally be happy.

I slide my hands into the back pockets of his jeans and give his ass a little squeeze as I playfully smile up at him. “You’re right—you’ve been a world class douchebag, and I should make your ass sleep out here all night, but I’d much rather spend my evening sipping that delicious wine you brought me while you get to work showing me how sorry you really are.”

Bringing his lips down to mine he presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I was an asshole and I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am. I will gladly spend the entire night making it up to you.”

Taking his hands into mine, I pull him into the house. “So what changed your mind?” I finally ask as he wraps me back into his arms and pulls me toward the sectional.