Wish I May (41 page)
“As long as you’re in this town,” Hanna says, “you don’t have to face anything alone.”
“I—I don’t even know what to say.”
“You can tell them that won’t be necessary,” Arlen calls, the porch screen squeaking behind him as he comes down into the lawn to join everyone else. “I visited the bank this morning and got it taken care of.”
Cally’s jaw goes slack, but I’m sure mine does too.
Arlen shifts uncomfortably as everyone stares. “While you girls were gone last week, I auctioned off my books.”
“The autographed ones?” Cally’s eyes are wide. “You’ve been collecting those my whole life.”
He lifts a shoulder in an awkward shrug. “My daughters are more important than some autographed papers.”
“Daddy,” Cally whispers. Then in three long strides she’s wrapping her arms around him and leaning her head into his chest.
“Does this mean Asher Logan isn’t going to be part owner of a house with me?” Drew asks. “Because that is a total bummer.”
Asher grabs something out of his truck and walks it over to Drew. “Here you go, kiddo. How’s that for a consolation prize?”
Her eyes go wide as she takes the CD from his hands. “Oh. My. God. Is this the new album? It doesn’t even release for months!”
He grins. “Thanks for being such an awesome fan.”
“Huh,” Lizzy says. “My mom said she wanted to see me do something responsible with my money. I guess I’m going to have to find something else now.”
“We could go shoe shopping?” Hanna suggests.
“That’s a plan,” Lizzy says. “Maggie, can you and your stud give us a ride back to Mom’s?”
Everyone clears out and the girls head back into the house with their dad, and finally I’m alone with Cally.
I clear my throat. “I have a bone to pick with you.”
I spin around at the sound of Will’s voice.
His eyes blaze, nearly predatory, as he takes three slow steps and closes the space between us. “You tried to get rid of me by pushing me off on some other woman.”
I hang my head and study my shoes. “I just want you to have the best life possible.”
“Yeah, but I would have thought you’d do better. Meredith? She’s scheming and manipulative and kind of a bitch.”
I snap my head up and bite back my smile.
“I mean, sure, she’s beautiful, and you’re right about me wanting kids. It’s true, I do. And I guess it’s nice that Grandma likes her, though—between you and me—I think me falling in love with troubled girls keeps Grandma’s mind young. You wouldn’t want my grandmother to get senile, would you?”
“No,” I say, keeping my face somber. “I wouldn’t want that.”
“And, anyway, Meredith is a blond, and I know that’s a thing for a lot of guys, but I really prefer brunettes.”
“It’s important to know what you want.”
He’s so close I can feel his heat and have to fight the urge to wrap myself up in his warmth. “If you wanted to choose the woman for me to spend my life with, you totally missed the boat. I thought you knew me better than that.”
“My apologies. Maybe I could try again if you gave me a bulleted list.”
“Hmm…well, I’m not really into girls who will let me own their mind. I’d like a girl who can think for herself.”
“That’s important.”
He settles his hands on my hips and lowers his mouth next to my ear. “And I don’t mean to be picky, but she needs to be amazing. You know the type, loves with all of her heart and thinks I’m a sex god.”
A wicked tendril of electricity zips up my spine. “Hmm, and how would you confirm that?”
He nips at my earlobe. “Maybe by the way she screams my name when I make her come.”
I swallow. Hard. “I’m not sure I want to know how other women sound when you make them come.”
He pulls back and his eyes drop to my mouth. He’s a breath away. I could push up on my toes and taste those lips. “But you asked what I want.”
“The baby’s really not yours?”
“I can’t have kids, Cally. The baby’s not mine.” He cups my face in his hand. “So I guess you need to add to that list a woman who could handle life with a man who can’t have children. She’d need to be okay with fertility interventions or adoption.”
My eyes fill. “I could handle that.”
“I could also use a decent massage.” He grins and rolls his shoulders back.
“We might be able to arrange that.”
“I want you, Cally.” Then his mouth is on mine and his hands are in my hair. This isn’t the gentle, loving kiss of my high school sweetheart. And I don’t kiss him back like an innocent girl with her first love. This is the hard, punishing, demanding kiss of a man who’s finally taking what he wants and the woman who’s giving it to him.
I open under him and moan into his mouth, clinging to his shirt as I surrender to the kiss—the brush of our tongues, the wicked nipping of his teeth.
When we finally break the kiss, he leans his forehead against mine and we both struggle to catch our breath. “Now it’s time for you to head back in the house and break the news to your father.”
“What news?”
“That his girls won’t all be living with him. That you’re moving in with me. I’m also going to need you to divorce that asshole you’re married to. Call me a caveman if you must, but I don’t share.”
Six Months Later
W
HEN
I get home from the massage studio, the house is dark and empty.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I open the text message:
Go to the bedroom.
Biting back a smile, I follow my boyfriend’s command and make my way down the hall. But when I get there, I don’t see William like I expect to. Instead, there’s a formal black gown draped across the bed, a floor-length number with ribbons tied in little bows at the shoulders. It looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place it.
I’m not surprised when my phone buzzes again.
Get dressed. I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes.
What’s he up to?
I’m pulling off my clothes when another text message comes through.
Wear the black silk panties, the ones with the ties at the sides.
I text back,
Care to tell me where you’re taking me?
And ruin the surprise?
I shower quickly with the floral body wash that makes him crazy, then I dress carefully. I take special care as I tie the panties at each hip, imaging him untying them later. For my bra, I choose black lace that makes his blue eyes go smoky when he looks at me.
The dress is a soft flowing material that glides against my skin and makes me feel beautiful.
I don’t put on much makeup, just a little lip-gloss and some eyeliner and mascara, and I leave my hair down so he can tangle his hands in it when he kisses me.
I’m just stepping into my shoes when he texts me again.
I’m out front when you’re ready.
A ridiculous case of the nerves has my stomach somersaulting as I walk out the front door.
William is leaning against a black stretch limo dressed in a tuxedo, legs crossed at the ankle as he waits for me. He holds a single red rose.
“I thought you said you didn’t want to dress me?”
His lips turn up in a grin. “I didn’t. Drew pulled that dress out of storage for me.”
I blink down at the familiar gown and have to shake my head. How had I forgotten my own prom dress? “Where are we going?” I ask again.
He winks at me and opens the door, taking my hand to help me into the limo. “You’ll know soon enough.”
When he’s seated next to me, he pours me a glass of champagne, and I have to shake my head in awe. “Am I forgetting some sort of special occasion?”
He dips his head and presses his lips to mine. “Every day you’re in my life is a special occasion.”
I take a single sip from my glass before he takes it from my hand and the limo comes to a stop. “Short ride,” I mutter, only a little disappointed that I didn’t have enough time to enjoy it.
“Don’t pout. The limo’s ours all night.” He winks at me as he helps me out onto the sidewalk. “Later, we’ll let him drive us around while we make out.”
I frown at the building before me. I’m missing something. “You brought me to New Hope High School?”
He offers me his arm, and I slide my hand through it and allow him to escort me inside the heavy gymnasium doors. The doors swing closed behind me and I can hardly believe what I’m seeing. The room is dark save for the twinkling white lights draped across the ceiling and a dim light illuminating the dance floor. My best friends are already dancing—Lizzy, Hanna, and Maggie wearing prom dresses, arms draped around their dates.