A Chance for Us (Willow Creek Valley Book 4) Page 12

  He pulls back, rests his forehead to mine, and says, “I am in so much trouble,” under his breath as the song ends.

  Me too.

  Me. Fucking. Too.

  We break apart and start saying good night to everyone.

  “This was definitely the most interesting wedding I’ve ever officiated,” Mark says with a grin.

  “Considering it’s only your second, that doesn’t say a lot,” Charlie, his wife, says.

  “True, but you know . . .”

  “Please don’t ever agree to do it for anyone else.”

  “I make no promises. I have to uphold the rules so I don’t lose my spot in heaven.”

  Charlie rolls her eyes. “Please, we all know you’re going to hell.”

  He grins. “That’s life with you, my sweet.”

  “Right. You’re in hell.” She scoffs and then gives me a tight hug. “We are so going to talk about this when you get back.”

  “I know.”

  “Mark is right,” she says, pulling back and smiling. “You would’ve made an excellent field agent.”

  I roll my eyes and snort. “Please, I don’t do danger.”

  “And you don’t think this was dangerous?”

  “That’s a different kind of danger.”

  She looks at Oliver and then back to me. “True, but it isn’t any less risky, my friend.” Then her gaze moves to her husband. “I know all too well how my story ended with a man I didn’t love and had to fake it with.”

  So not going down that road.

  Jackson and Catherine nudge their way closer, and Charlie whispers something in Oliver’s ear that causes him to laugh.

  “Congrats on the nuptials,” Catherine says with a glimmer in her eyes. “I can’t wait to hear how the honeymoon goes.”

  “Stop it,” I warn.

  “Have fun, Maren. Seriously, if you were my client, I would tell you to just embrace this for the time you can. Life is hard, and you are always in your head. Allow your heart to lead this one just a little, regardless of the possible fallout.”

  Coming from a publicist, I’m a little shocked at that advice.

  Jackson nods. “It’s amazing what might happen when you do that.”

  Catherine tilts her head. “Aww. You’re being all sentimental, Muffin.”

  “Weddings always do it.” My boss is a man who could snap anyone in this room in half. He’s tall, strong, and trained to be deadly, but when he looks at his wife, he’s goo.

  It’s cute.

  “Thank you all for everything,” I say, knowing they could’ve imploded everything and went out of their way not to.

  “We’re a team, and if you had told us before you came up with this plan, we would’ve done what we could.”

  I eye him, not sure what that means and not sure I want to, but smile because I think he means it in a sweet way.

  After they move down, Devney and Sean come over with a sleeping Cassandra and Austin looking like he’s ready to fall asleep standing up.

  I know she has mixed feelings on all of this, but she stood by me without ever wavering. “The wedding was amazing, and I don’t really know what to say other than I love you and hope this works out for you both.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She shrugs. “Just that . . . well, I hope you both are happy.”

  “What we did made me happy.”

  “Right. For your dad.”

  I nod. “Of course.”

  Her eyes move to Oliver. “Of course.”

  “We have to get these two to bed,” Sean says, trying to adjust Cassandra while also keeping Austin steady. “Congrats, you guys.”

  Oliver’s family comes over, bidding us the same well wishes, but his brothers start to make inappropriate jokes, causing him to flip them off. I hug Jessica, Delia, and then Stella, thanking them again for all their help.

  We take the time to thank everyone who came but save my father and Linda for last. While she’s normally a nightmare, today she was actually kind. She didn’t wear cream, thank God, and told me how proud she was. It’s hard to hate her when she acts this way.

  She gives Oliver a hug first. “You have made us all so happy. We worried when we hadn’t met you before this, but you’re a wonderful person, and we’re so happy you found each other.”

  Oliver smiles. “I’m very lucky to know her, and it was a pleasure to meet you all and become part of the family.”

  She hooks her arm in my father’s. “Patrick and I couldn’t be more pleased to have you as our son now.”

  Dad nods, tears in his eyes. “Family is all that matters in this world.”

  “I agree,” Oliver says, placing his hand on my back.

  “You sure you have to leave early tomorrow?” I ask my father, not wanting this time to end.

  Linda speaks. “We have a long trip, and your father needs to recover from this weekend. It’s imperative we get him home.”

  As much as I’d like to argue, she’s probably right. This took a lot out of him. I just wish . . . I wish we could have more time. More laughter and hugs. I wish he could just stay here and we could just pause time so I would never have to lose him.

  Oliver’s hand moves up my back, rubbing along my shoulders. I turn to him, feeling his sympathy with each stroke of his hand. It’s as if he’s telling me that it’s okay and he’s here. With tears in my eyes, I nod and step toward my father.

  “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you most, Princess. You and Oliver are perfect for each other, and I can’t tell you how much this has meant to me. To see it with my own eyes, just . . . joy.”

  My chest grows tight because he saw what we wanted him to see. Oliver squeezes my shoulders. “Linda, my mother is over there and she mentioned needing to speak with you.”

  “She did?”

  He nods. “I can’t remember what it was about, but I know it was important.”

  “Oh. Of course.”

  He gives me a wink and then leads Linda towards his mother.

  This man.

  I know that couldn’t be easy because Linda doesn’t like to leave my dad and not be privy to the conversation.

  However, I’m going to take advantage of this private time I get.

  I help my father over to a seating area and take his hand in mine. “I’m sad,” I admit.

  “You shouldn’t be sad on your wedding day,” Dad says with a wheeze in his voice.

  “I think all brides are a bit emotional.”

  “Happy tears, Maren.” He brushes away my tears and then cups my cheek. “I want only happy tears.”

  How can I be happy when I know what’s to come? “I am happy, Daddy. Thank you so much for being here and dancing with me,” I tell him.

  “Even if it was more like swaying?”

  I laugh a little through my tears. “You were never a good dancer.”

  “No,” he agrees. “I didn’t have moves.” My father’s hand settles on top of mine, and he closes his eyes for a moment. “I will never forget this day. The way you looked or the smile on your face, and even though my time is limited, this will carry me through.”

  I look at our entwined hands, tears falling again as I struggle to control my emotions. “I’m glad that we had this.”

  He lifts my chin with his free hand. “I’m glad you have him.”

  Oh, Daddy. I don’t. I don’t have him.

  I want to tell him, but I keep my lips clamped. This is what’s giving him the strength to let go. I have to remember that.

  “I’m glad that you are my father. You taught me to be strong and fight for what matters.”

  He smiles a little. “Well, you’re an incredible woman, and if I had any part in that, I am clearly a great father.”

  “You most definitely are.”

  My father looks over to where Linda and Eveline are chatting. “Walk me to Linda?”

  “Sure.”

  Arm in arm, my father and I make our way to the lobby. He’ll leav
e very early in the morning, and I pray I have the chance to visit him in Georgia at least one more time.

  When we reach them, Linda is laughing at something. “You have a wonderful son. He’s just the sweetest man,” Linda says with her fake smile and deep accent.

  “He is pretty wonderful. All my kids are.”

  Oliver’s back is straight and I can sense the tension in him. Inviting his mother was a source of contention among the Parkerson siblings, but he relented. I got to meet her for just a few minutes at the rehearsal before Oliver whisked me away from her.

  I place my hand on his back and he relaxes just slightly.

  Linda sees us approach and returns her attention to Eveline. “Trust me, you will love going on that cruise. It’s the best trip we ever took. Even if we had to spend a week in the hospital—with no help—when we got back.”

  “Thank you so much for the suggestion,” she says. Eveline rests her hand on my forearm. “You look absolutely breathtaking. I’m going to say goodbye to Stella and the boys. I’ll see you in a few days, Oliver?”

  He smiles at his mother. “I’ll call when I get back.”

  “Good. Travel safe.”

  “Are you ready, darling?”

  He nods. “I’m ready.”

  Linda walks over and kisses my cheek. “Be good, Maren. It would be nice if you both stop by when you’re close to Georgia. I know it might be out of your way, but if you want to see your father before he dies, then—”

  “We will do our best to get to you soon,” Oliver says quickly, surprising us all.

  Linda looks stunned. “Oh. That’s a nice change. Good. It’ll be great to see you both.”

  “Yeah, it really will,” I say, falling a little more for this man who seems to truly care for me.

  My father sighs heavily, exhaustion clear on his face. “Go rest, Daddy. I’ll see you in the morning before you leave.”

  He kisses my cheek. “I will see you then.”

  And with that, Oliver wraps both arms around my waist, allowing me to lean against him as I watch my father walk away, praying I actually get the chance to visit him in Georgia.

  Seventeen

  OLIVER

  Maren and I make our way up to the honeymoon suite, which is the only room in the resort where my brothers and I let Stella have free rein and no budget. It’s the first time I’m going to see it completed.

  I swipe the key through the reader, open the door, and let Maren in first. I follow her, slowly taking in the room.

  There are floor-to-ceiling windows, which offer the most stunning views of the lake and mountains, the floors are a light-colored oak that makes the entire space feel larger and brighter, and my and Maren’s bags are already tucked off to the side for us.

  “Holy shit,” Maren says behind me, her eyes moving around. “This room is . . .”

  “Amazing,” I finish.

  “More than that.”

  It really is.

  Maren’s aunt got to come up here late last night to take photos for her blog, and I really hope that article does this space justice. Otherwise, this is a very expensive room that no one will ever see.

  “So, it’s our wedding night,” Maren says, turning and walking backward.

  She’s absolutely stunning. A few errant pieces of her blonde hair have fallen free of her updo. The bottom of her dress is looped around her wrist, and the one shoulder strap is falling down just slightly. Her smile is relaxed, and her eyes are bright.

  I want so badly to pull her into my arms and kiss her again. Being able to do just that and not have to think twice about it has been the biggest benefit of today. Sure, we had to pretend to love each other, but half the time, it was just natural to be with her. To reach my hand out and touch her soft skin was a reflex instead of a calculated action.

  I don’t know when this became more real than pretend, but it has, and in a week, it will be over. She’ll go back to her life, and I’ll be here, alone again.

  “It appears that way.”

  She laughs while shaking her head. “I don’t have words for how today made me feel.”

  “Oh?”

  I follow behind her as she makes her way deeper into the room. “It’s like . . . a mix of weirdness and comfort. Does that make sense?”

  “Not at all.”

  She giggles. “I didn’t think it would. All night, I was just so conflicted. We are married, well, depends if Mark can figure that part out, but we never planned to be. But either way, there is no one else in the world I would rather be fake married to.”

  I raise my brow, moving even closer. “Why is that?”

  A part of me doesn’t want to know because I wasn’t her first choice, but I can’t resist asking.

  She watches me, long lashes framing those gorgeous green eyes. “Because . . .”

  I step again, watching her breath hitch because we are just a few inches apart. “Because?”

  “Because you make me feel safe. I don’t remember ever feeling that way before. I trusted you, and you didn’t let me down. You stood beside me, even in all my craziness.” She looks down, a faint blush painting her cheeks. “I liked it. I needed it.”

  I needed it too. I needed to be near her and to make her feel that way. All night, I sought her out, wanted to be sure she was all right. Even now, I want to protect her, keep her safe, hold her close.

  I tilt her chin so she’s looking at me. “I don’t know what is happening between us. I can’t figure out if this is real or just a product of what we created, but I know that I like being with you. I like kissing you, touching you, and talking to you. I’m not looking for anything. I gave up on love and relationships because they all end the same way, but I am glad I made you feel safe. It’s what you deserve to feel.”

  She smiles softly and then lifts onto her toes. “I like kissing you too.”

  My arm moves around her back, and I pull her so her chest is to mine. “Then why don’t I do it again?”

  And then I do. Our lips press together, and she opens to me without hesitation. I slide my tongue into her mouth, loving the dance we create. She’s playful, sensual, and sexy as hell. Her hands move up, tangling in my hair as she moans.

  I could do this. I could strip her down and take her, make her feel so much more than just safe. I want to, but that would get emotionally messy, and I don’t do messy.

  When I pull back, her lips are swollen and her eyes are glazed over. “Why did you stop?”

  Because I’m a fucking idiot.

  “I just . . . in the spirit of this whole thing, I’m not looking for anything. I gave up on love and relationships because they all end the same way. I have this resort to worry about, and I don’t know if either of us is thinking straight.”

  She takes a step back, swallowing but keeping a smile on her face. “Right. I didn’t think that’s what we were doing. I know this was all fake for you—I mean us. And, well, you’re probably right about not thinking straight. We both drank a lot and are probably just caught up in the whole thing, right?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I . . .”

  “I am so sorry I kissed you.”

  “Well, I kissed you first.”

  “Kind of. I mean, I leaned up onto my toes, which was when the kiss started.”

  I shake my head. “But I said I was going to kiss you.”

  “Which you did.”

  “Which I did.”

  Maren pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and the urge to kiss her again rises.

  Shit.

  “It’s fine,” she says quickly.

  It really is not fine, but I’m not going to argue.

  “I’m glad.”

  “How about we get changed and watch a movie?” she suggests.

  I don’t really want to watch a movie, but it’s really the only option we have.

  “Sounds good.”

  We both head over to our bags, and she stops. “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “I almost forgot.�
�

  Maren heads to the other side of the room and starts going through the stack of envelopes. She pulls one out. “This. It’s the one from my father, and he said to open it when we were alone.”

  “We’re alone.”

  She nods. “I’m nervous.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know my dad, and he’ll have gone overboard.”

  “Whatever it is, he wanted you to have it.”

  She sits on the couch, and I settle in next to her, taking her hand. “Us. He wanted me and my husband to have whatever it is.”

  “Open it,” I encourage.

  She pulls her hand away, carefully lifts the flap, and pulls out what looks like a document. I give her a second to read it, waiting for her to tell me what it is. But then her hand starts to tremble before a sob breaks free. I pull her to my chest. “Why are you crying?”

  She hands me the paper, which turns out to be the deed to a lot of property in Virginia. Holy shit. He gave her land and a house.

  “This . . . this w-was my m-mother’s. It’s her family’s land that I thought went to my uncle.”

  I wipe her tears away. “Looks like it didn’t, and now it’s yours.”

  “He kept it. All this time. He kept it, and I don’t know what to think.”

  I’m not sure I understand why she’s so upset, but it’s clear this means a lot to her. “Tell me,” I encourage.

  So, we sit in our wedding attire, and I listen to her tell me about her family’s farm in Virginia. It was where her mother grew up and where she dreamed of raising her kids. When she died, she didn’t have a will and the property went into probate, where her uncle argued it should be his. She thought he ended up with it because her father mentioned it and they stopped taking weekend trips out there.

  “It’s here though. He had it all this time, and . . . now it’s mine.”

  “Maybe he saved it so you could raise your family there if you wanted.”

  Her head drops. “This is all too much.”

  I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and she leans into me. I hold her, not caring about anything other than giving her what she needs. I hate this part of myself, the one that wants to save her, help her, be there when I know it’s all bullshit.