A Chance for Us (Willow Creek Valley Book 4) Page 18

  “Jack has said this?” There’s now a thick layer of frost around us.

  Grayson, the idiot he is, starts to sputter as his error starts to become clear. “No. Yes. I mean, he hasn’t said it so much as maybe agreed when I said it.”

  Stella slowly turns to look at me before going back to him. “I see. So, you were complaining about your own wife, who is a very lovely woman, I might add.”

  He throws his hands up. “Stop making this about you. I’m saying that if Maren wants Oliver to go with her, she should ask him to.”

  “Maybe she is afraid of being rejected.”

  I raise my hand. “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh? And you’re supposed to be the expert on women?” Great. The anger is back on me.

  “I never said expert.”

  “Yes, because you don’t have a vagina, therefore you can’t be.”

  “Thank God for that or this conversation would be strange,” I say under my breath.

  Grayson chuckles and steps back. “Retract your claws, Stell. No one is saying they know better than you. Jesus, are you pregnant?”

  She glares at him and then turns to me. “Look, Oliver, Maren is a woman who was dumped a few days before her wedding. She’s in a state of trauma too. Her father is dying, her stepmother isn’t an easy person to deal with, and she faked a relationship and fell for the guy. It’s a lot, and I’m telling you now, she could be the strongest woman you know and she would still be vulnerable at the heart of it.” Then she turns to Grayson. “To answer your question, yes, I am pregnant. Jack doesn’t know yet so keep your trap shut.”

  Gray and I smile. “Congratulations, Stella.”

  She softens a bit. “Thank you. It’s taken a while, and it’s still early. After losing a baby six months ago, I didn’t have the heart to tell Jack yet.”

  I didn’t know she lost a baby. She never said a word. “Stell—”

  She lifts her hand. “It’s fine. I’m happy, and so far, everything looks great. Just, I’m apparently a bit emotional and hormonal. Now, back to you . . . are you going to Georgia?”

  As much as I’d like to keep talking about Stella, she’ll never allow it. My sister loves nothing more than getting her way or her point across.

  “She had a lot of chances to ask me, and she didn’t.” I take a step forward and breathe through my teeth.

  “What is wrong with you?” Gray asks. “You’re walking funny.”

  “I pulled a muscle.”

  “What? How?” Stella switches from annoyed to concerned so fast it’s impressive.

  I smirk, which causes my sister to make a gagging noise. “Gross.”

  “Jealous?” I toss back at her.

  “That you pulled a muscle having sex? No.”

  “You should be,” I say with a bit of male pride. “I clearly am doing it well.”

  Stella laughs. “That would be if she was walking funny, not you, dumbass.”

  “Whatever. I’m going to my office. I want to see if there are any leads for weddings we can book. The photographer called and let me know we should have images for the website by the end of the week.”

  “Good, that should help. Isn’t Maren’s aunt posting her article too?” Grayson asks.

  “Yes, between that and the images on our website, we should be in good shape.”

  “We are. You? Not so much,” Grayson points out as I hobble away.

  It was worth it. So fucking worth it.

  “Maybe you should go to the doctor . . .” Maren suggests over the phone.

  “And say what? I had amazing sex with my wife and pulled something.”

  We’ve been married for less than a week, and she’s already nagging. Okay, she isn’t nagging so much as pushing because she’s concerned. Still, I’m fine. It’s swollen but nothing to be worried over.

  “You can leave some of the details out, but I think you should at least go so you can walk.”

  “It doesn’t hurt.” Well, it doesn’t hurt enough to tell her.

  “Doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have it checked out.”

  Maybe she has a point. “Will it make you happy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then who am I to deny you?” I say, grabbing my suit jacket off the back of the door.

  “Are you unpacked?” she asks.

  “For the most part.”

  She lets out a long sigh. “When I come back, I want to decorate your cabin if you’ll let me.”

  “Come now,” I suggest.

  My place isn’t anything to write home about, but it’s far more comfortable than the RV I stayed in for over a year. The cabin is small but has everything I need, including running water and heat. That is a step up from the generator and thimble-sized hot water heater the RV had. As for decorations, I couldn’t give two shits about them, but if it gets her here, I’m in.

  “I wish I could. I need to get into the office and see if Mark is back yet.”

  “Still no answer?” I ask. It would be nice to know exactly what our status is so we aren’t in the strange limbo anymore.

  “No, but he’ll be in today, and once I assess the team, what’s going on, and whether we are legally married, I’ll probably book my flight to Georgia.”

  “Any changes?”

  Maren is quiet for a second. “No, but I assume he’s gotten worse. I called Linda this morning, and she was in a mood. She said that if I cared, I would be there instead of waiting for him to be closer to death’s door.”

  “Maren . . .”

  “I know, I know,” she says. “He wouldn’t want me to just sit around, but she has a point. I need to go, and . . . well, I’ll regret it if I don’t.”

  She still hasn’t said anything about wanting me there, but the thing is, I want to go. I care about her and want to help shoulder her burdens. We’re trying to make this a real relationship, but we also need to keep up the charade about being married.

  As her husband, I would go.

  As her boyfriend, I want to go.

  “What if I go with you?”

  “What?” Her voice rises a few octaves.

  “I can work remotely if I need to, but my siblings have everything in hand. I should be there with you . . . I want to be there with you.”

  She doesn’t say anything. I can imagine her sitting there, calculating the words, creating a plan that has fifteen different contingencies before speaking.

  “You want to go with me?”

  “No, I want to be there with you. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

  She sniffles. “If you’re trying to get me to leave you, you’re doing a shit job of convincing me you’re not perfect.”

  “I’m not perfect.”

  Maren sighs deeply. “You might just be perfect for me.”

  And that’s something that makes my heart pound. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “I want to be with you more than I want to be apart. So, yes, it would mean the world to me, and I think it would mean a lot to Daddy too.”

  “Then I’ll see you in a few days.”

  That feels like a lifetime.

  “One condition,” Maren says before we disconnect.

  “What?”

  “You go to the doctor. We aren’t going to be able to have sex if you can barely move.”

  “When you put it that way . . .” I say with a laugh. If I have to, I’ll force myself to walk normally when I see her. Nothing is going to keep me from making love to her. Nothing.

  Twenty-Three

  MAREN

  “So, how was the honeymoon?” Mark asks as he walks into my office.

  “It was good. What’s going on with the team?”

  “You’re going to give yourself an ulcer at this rate.” He plops down in the chair across from me and gives me a rundown of what happened. Basically, the analyst who was helping out didn’t jive well, leaving my guys exposed in ways I never would’ve allowed. She threw my plans out the window and went rogue.

  S
he’s no longer employed here.

  “I should’ve been here.”

  “You were a little busy.”

  I shake my head, guilt hitting me in the chest. “They’re my team.”

  “And they’re all fine,” Mark assures me. “Jackson and I had a long talk about this while we were out in the field. First, you’re no longer having a set team.”

  “Mark!” I protest.

  “Relax, Sharkbait, you don’t run this company, we do.”

  I sometimes forget he is my boss and I still have to follow his rules. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know you’re worked up, but we’re doing it for a good reason. We can’t have everyone relying on just one person. What if I need you to head to California to handle something and your team goes out? Or what if Quinn is unable to go or Ben gets sick? This company is only as good as our weakest team, and that’s all of us if we can’t work as a unit. We want our people to be just as good as they always are, no matter who they are working with, and rotating everyone is the only way to do that. Plus, I don’t know how you and the first Oliver are going to manage now that you married a different Oliver with, like, a day’s notice.”

  He’s right, and at some point, I’ll need to talk to that Oliver and get this figured out.

  “Is he here?”

  “No, he’s still out of the country.”

  So much for that idea. “Speaking of getting married, where is my signed marriage license?” I need to do some shredding.

  I may be falling for Oliver, but we need to start things off right if we can. Meaning, not married and in the position to decide what we want going forward. If we try and fail, then at least the split will be as easy as possible for both of us.

  “About that . . .”

  Oh God. “You didn’t.” My head falls in my hands as I prepare for the worst.

  “In my defense—”

  “No, you are defenseless. You have no defense for filing it!”

  “I didn’t file it. Charlie did.”

  I blink a few times, jaw slack and can’t speak.

  “According to her, she thought you wanted her to file it. She said if you really hadn’t wanted to be married, then you wouldn’t have signed it.”

  “She knew!” I yell.

  “I’m going to agree with you on that, but we know my devious wife likes to think she knows better than anyone. Charlie said you’re free to call her, and she’ll give you some bullshit about mistakenly doing it, but the fact remains, it’s been filed and you’re legally married.”

  This is a problem. A big one.

  Oliver doesn’t want to be married—at least not like this.

  “Mark, this is not okay.”

  “I’m sorry. I know that woman heard you and Oliver say not to file it, and I . . . I underestimated her and left it out. Really, I never thought she would do paperwork, she never does.”

  “I’ll . . . find a way to fix this.”

  He gets to his feet. “I think Natalie knows a great divorce attorney.”

  “Yeah. Thanks. Listen, I need to take a week or two off again. I know the timing sucks, but my father . . .”

  “Take whatever you need. We’ve got your back.”

  Mark winks and then walks out, closing the door behind him.

  I lean back in my chair, letting out a heavy breath. This is not good.

  The worst part is that now I have to figure out a new way to show him that he’s not my second choice. I want to be with him. I want to build a life with him in whatever way we can. None of that is achievable unless I can first prove to him that, if I had the freedom to choose, I would choose him every time.

  My phone rings, and it’s Linda’s number.

  “Hi, Linda.”

  “Are you on your way yet?”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yes,” she says clipped. “He’s doing the salsa now. No, he’s not okay, Maren. He’s exhausted after all the excitement from the wedding. He’s having a hard time waking up to take his medication, and he is refusing to eat. I am beside myself, which you’d know if you were here. There are a lot of things I need to handle, and it would be wonderful if anyone from the McVee family decided to be here for Patrick.”

  Deep breaths, Maren. I can either lose it on her or I can remember that she’s probably saying this from a place of fear and anger.

  “I’m booking my flight today, and I’ll be there. Oliver will probably come in tomorrow.”

  “You’re both coming?”

  “Yes.”

  She clears her throat. “That’s . . . nice.”

  “We will help however we can so you can get a break. I’ll call the family and see who else can come.”

  “We don’t need a houseful of people,” she bristles.

  She wants help, but she only wants it if it’s on her terms and never with us all in a group. However, this is about my dad. He loves his sisters and brothers. He loves his daughter, and for some reason, he loves her. So, for him, we are all going to be there and hold his hand. That’s it.

  “I’ll arrange hotels and a rotation, but you’ll have help around the clock, and we’ll all be there for Daddy. In the end, I think what we all want is for him to feel loved and know that you also have support.”

  I hear her hiccup before she steels her voice. “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  I hang up and then immediately call Natalie to ask for help.

  Twenty-Four

  OLIVER

  I have small amounts of pain, nothing I can’t handle, but this bulge isn’t going down, and I woke up last night in a pool of sweat. If I hadn’t already promised Maren I would go to the doctor, last night would have convinced me to get checked out. Also, I want to have sex again. The mistake I made was calling to make an appointment while Josh and I were out running errands. My choices were an immediate slot or having to wait a week. That is how I ended up sitting in a packed waiting room with Josh, who is the last person anyone wants around for embarrassing problems.

  “So, you pulled a muscle during sex?”

  “Can you maybe not say that loud enough that Mrs. Villafane hears?”

  “She can’t hear anything.” He waves to her, and she waves back.

  “You know they hear everything. Even the things no one actually says.”

  “Ehh, they’re harmless.”

  “I don’t remember you saying that a few months ago.”

  Josh waves to her again. “That was when she was meddling in my life.”

  “Right.”

  “Back to the issue, you were banging Maren and, what? You twisted wrong?”

  “No, it wasn’t like that. It just . . . happened. I don’t know.”

  The weird thing is that I have minimal pain so maybe this is some overuse issue. Like, I haven’t had all that much sex since Devney, so maybe my body is expelling a lot of backed up jizz. It could be a thing.

  Mrs. Villafane smiles at me and then looks down at my waist. “My husband did that once too,” she informs me.

  So much for not hearing. I force a smile. “Good to know.”

  “We used to have a lot of sex back then. Wasn’t much else to do. This town was even smaller fifty years ago, you know?”

  Kill me now.

  I glare at Josh. It’s his fault I’m now stuck in this conversation. “I’m sure he was grateful for the lack of entertainment.”

  Mrs. Villafane moves to sit next to me. “I was quite good at role play to keep it fresh. It’s important to do that in a marriage.”

  I sputter as my brother chokes on his laugh. “I hear Josh and Delia like to get kinky with handcuffs and things.”

  Her eyes widen, and she looks at him. “Joshua!”

  “I don’t!” he defends. “I would never.”

  “I said role play, not hurting her.”

  Oh, this is a great conversation now. “You should give him some pointers. We don’t want Delia to be disappointed. Maybe you and Mrs. Garner can stop by and just let him kno
w about the finer points of marriage since he had horrible examples to show him the way.”

  Her eyes light up. “That’s a great idea. I’ll talk to Kristy and we’ll pop over when we see Delia’s at work.”

  Josh shakes his head. “Mrs. Villafane, I couldn’t take up your precious time like that, not unless I was sure that several people would benefit from your wisdom. Since Oliver here”—he slaps my back—“is a newlywed, I’m sure he needs a lot of help, not just with the sex, which we know he’s clearly an amateur at since he pulled a muscle having it.”

  “I’m here because I did it right,” I inform him.

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself, asshole.”

  Mrs. Villafane taps her hand on Josh’s forearm. “I’ll make a cake and stop by this week.”

  “Oliver Parkerson.” A nurse raises her hand as she calls out my name.

  I get up, extremely happy to be leaving this conversation, and wink at my brother. “You enjoy the rest of your chat.”

  “Enjoy your walk home,” he mutters.

  I hobble toward the nurse. The swelling in my leg makes it hard to stay upright, but I manage it.

  When I get to the back room, I change into a gown that offers very little privacy, and wait for the doctor. I’ve been coming to Dr. Pang since I was a kid, so it’s not like she hasn’t seen it all, but still, it’s a bit drafty.

  My phone dings with a text, and I grab it.

  Maren: I just landed, heading to the rental car place now. Are you sure you’re fine with coming tomorrow?

  Me: Yes. I’ll be there tomorrow morning. I’m going to drive so we don’t have to worry about delays. I’m at the doctor now.

  Maren is none too happy that I can barely walk. I’m not the first man to get a pulled muscle, but she has enough on her plate and doesn’t need me fighting her on it.

  Maren: Good. Let me know how it goes and light a candle for me—and Linda.

  Me: Not sure my light source is what God is looking for, but I’ll find someone with a better connection to the big guy.

  Maren: Or girl.