A Chance for Us (Willow Creek Valley Book 4) Page 7

  “Now that you’ve all met, you should go back to your stools before someone takes them.”

  Bill waves dismissively. “They can have it if I can have her.”

  I roll my eyes. “She’s taken.”

  “By whom?” he asks.

  “Me, and you know it.”

  I wish I could say this was all for show or that I was protective of her out of some sense of obligation to our arrangement, but I’d be lying. A part of me—a part I’d like to pretend isn’t really there—wishes it were true. Maybe it’s because she’s so fucking pretty. Maybe it’s because it’s clear she’ll go to any length to give the people she loves what they need. Maybe it’s because, when she looks at me with those big doe eyes, I want to fall to my knees in front of her.

  Whatever the damn reason is, I need to remember that she doesn’t want me that way. She is only doing this because of her father.

  And this is fucking fake.

  Maren leans into me. “I think I have a good guy right here.”

  Fred chuckles. “He’s all right . . . I guess. Don’t forget, though, not all that bright.”

  I shake my head, the old people in this town need a different hobby. “Don’t you have some other person to harass?”

  The door chime rings and Stella heads our way, making Bill and Fred tense. They may think they are tough and like to give everyone shit, but they’re afraid of my sister. In all honesty, we all are.

  “Hello, boys. I hope you’re not bothering Oliver and Maren.” Her brow raises as though she knows exactly what they were doing.

  Fred’s eyes turn soft. “Never, sweetheart. We were just meeting the newest member-to-be of Willow Creek Valley.”

  Shit. I didn’t think about this. We haven’t had much time to talk about our story, the town people assume she’ll move here.

  Stella doesn’t miss a beat. “That’s very kind, but as much as we’d love to visit with you both, we have wedding plans to finalize.”

  And just like that, they leave. I really envy this woman sometimes. Stella sits and drops a binder onto the table. “Now that we’ve taken care of that, let’s get to work on this wedding and ensure that no one will think that you two aren’t in love.”

  Nine

  MAREN

  I’m not as sure this is such a good idea anymore. Today, Dad and Linda arrive, and when we planned this after Oliver one-point-oh proposed, it made perfect sense for them to get here before everyone else. I wanted to let my father spend some time with Oliver before the wedding, get to know him, see how much he adored his baby girl.

  This . . . well, this is utter insanity. Last night, Oliver and I spent three hours going over each other’s lives, friends, and family dynamics, and I still don’t feel ready.

  Hence why I’m pacing the lobby while Oliver sits in a chair watching. “You know, the flooring is new, and I don’t have enough to replace it.”

  I stop moving and shake my head. “We’re going to do this, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “But, like, we’re going to get away with this, right?”

  My heart is racing, and I can’t seem to stop fidgeting. There’s too much at stake. These last few days have been fine because it was only a plan—an abstract concept I could pick apart and alter if I needed to. Now, it’s about to stop being a plan and become reality.

  I hate reality.

  “Relax, Maren. We’ll just . . . fake it till we make it.”

  “Yeah, we’ll be fine. We just have to sell it and . . . lie.”

  He walks over to me, taking my shoulders in his strong hands. “We have a plan, and since you’re a planner, it’s probably a great one.”

  “It is.”

  “If you do say so yourself.”

  I smile at that. “If I do.”

  “So, we stick to it, and if one of us goes off the rails, the other will have to adapt.”

  “Are you planning a revolution?” I ask, somewhat as a joke.

  “Well, I am a spy, after all. It’s important to think on one’s feet in my line of work.”

  I groan and let my head fall back. “We are so fucked.”

  Oliver shrugs. “Hey, you have your fun, I’ll have mine. If I happen to tell a little embellishment regarding my last mission where I saved a Spanish princess, what’s the harm?”

  “For one, there is no Spanish princess . . .”

  “All part of the lie, sweetheart.”

  “I’ve created a monster,” I mutter. “You need to deflect, not embellish.”

  “Sit and relax. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

  He leads me over to the couch and then settles next to me without dropping my hand. I lean in, resting my head on his shoulder, and inhale his musky cologne. Why does this man smell so good? I shift, wanting to erase the space between us, and feel like I’m losing my mind. This is Oliver, who isn’t the man I thought I wanted to spend my life with just a few days ago, my friend who used to be in love with my best friend.

  This web could not be more tangled if I tried.

  We aren’t a thing and I need to remember that.

  I make the mistake of glancing toward his face as I try to make sense of this. Oliver’s blue eyes watch my green ones, and the connection has tingles racing up my spine. I lean back, breaking the spell as I tuck my hair behind my ear.

  The stress is getting to me, and I’m keyed up about seeing my dad again. Not knowing what to expect has always made me anxious, unbalanced, so my reacting that way to Oliver is nothing more than my subconscious reaching for something familiar. A friend.

  I decide that, whatever it is, my best course of action is to use it to help sell the lie. I’ll just have to make sure I don’t buy my own snake oil.

  Oliver laughs. “I don’t know how the hell I get myself in these things. I swear I’m like a magnet for the most insane situations. Seriously, though, I’m going to slip up on the job part, so please make sure you don’t leave us alone together.”

  I smile. “Just be vague or circumvent the questions and you’ll be okay.”

  “Got it. I’ll keep things brief, keep my answers short, and if I get in serious trouble, I’ll fake choking or something.”

  I giggle. “My co-workers will play along. They’re really good at making up elaborate bullshit stories.”

  “Seems like it’s an occupational thing.”

  I shrug. “Sort of.”

  “Oliver!” one of his brother’s calls from the front of the resort. “Your fake father-in-law-to-be is pulling in the drive.”

  Nerves hit me like a ton of bricks, slamming the air from my chest. “Remember, I haven’t seen him in about six months. You and I have been together for three months, and you’re hopelessly in love with me.”

  We get to our feet. “Right.”

  “Okay. We’ll be good. We can do this,” I say because it has to be true.

  I smooth down my dress, close my eyes, and inhale. I am a goddamn badass who is going to make the only man in the world I’ve ever really loved happy. He’s going to get to walk me down the aisle and give me away.

  I start to walk toward the front door, but Oliver’s hand wraps around my wrist. “Wait.”

  I turn. “What?”

  Please don’t say you can’t do this and are backing out.

  “Before we go out there, lie to everyone you know, and try to convince your father that we’ve been together for three months. I have to do something.”

  My mind starts to turn, thinking what he could mean. I stare into his beautiful eyes, blinking a few times. Then he lifts his hand to cup my cheek. His thumb strokes my skin, and my heartbeat turns erratic for a totally different reason. We stand in the lobby, our breaths mingling as the energy around us changes.

  “Oliver,” I say softly, not thinking of anyone or anything but him. It’s strange and a little unnerving how much I want him to kiss me. How much the thought of it excites me.

  I shouldn’t want to be kissed by him. He’s my friend, and we
’re pretending. Only, I don’t see any artifice in the way he’s looking at me. It’s pure lust and desire, and I am here for it.

  His lips turn into a sly grin as my attention drops to them. “One time before we have to do it in front of others.”

  I nod, wanting it way more than I should.

  And then, slowly, he presses his lips to mine, and I forget this is all fake as I get lost in the best kiss of my life.

  Ten

  OLIVER

  I never should have kissed her.

  Not because it isn’t amazing or a lack of chemistry but because we sure as fuck don’t. All I want to do is haul her to me and kiss her for hours, make her leave my freaking mind for good.

  Her hands grip my face, holding me to her as I tangle my fingers in her hair. Our tongues push against each other’s, and I swallow her breathy moans. Jesus Lord, there is no way I’m going to survive this.

  I never want this to stop. If this is fake, then she’s winning an award.

  However, her father is waiting and I’m expected to walk outside to meet him for the first time.

  How am I supposed to do that now that I’ve tasted the mint on her tongue, felt the heat of her breath? And am going to have to deflate my, er, semi.

  Maren’s eyes are glossy as we struggle to catch our breath. “Wow,” she says, her fingers pressing against her lips.

  I put on my normal, everything-is-sunshine-and-nothing-bothers-me façade in case that was her faking it. “And that wasn’t even me trying.”

  She lets out a breathy laugh. “Thank God for that, I guess.”

  Josh yells out again. “Dude!”

  “We’re coming!”

  I extend my arm to Maren, doing everything I can not to shove her against the wall and kiss her again. “My love.”

  Her hand tucks into the crook of my elbow, and she sighs deeply. “Here goes nothing.”

  We walk out toward the front entrance, passing the cleaning crew, who are wiping things down to get rid of all the construction dust. Our floors were delivered late last night, and by tomorrow, the contractors should be done with the installation in the entire resort. Stella has planned out which rooms will be done at certain times, and we’re to stick to the parts of the resort that have been completed. Right now, they’re finishing the guest room her parents will be staying in. If all goes well, that’ll be done within the hour.

  The passenger door opens, and Maren rushes forward to help her father out. At one time, he was a tall man, probably stockier too. The man before me is frail with almost leathered skin, but his eyes, they’re kind and full of unshed tears.

  He and his daughter embrace, and then she wipes the tears on his cheeks. “Daddy,” she says before holding him tight to her again. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  He laughs a little but doesn’t release her. A woman exits the driver’s side and walks over. “That’s enough now, Patrick. You have to let her breathe.”

  This must be Linda.

  Maren steps back, the joy that was in her gaze dimming at her stepmother’s interference. She doesn’t say anything to her, though, she just guides her father toward me. “Daddy, I’d like you to meet someone.”

  “Mr. McVee.” I extend my hand to him. “I’m Oliver.”

  He smiles, shuffling his feet forward. His voice is barely there, but I hear each word. “Thank you. Thank you for loving my girl.” He doesn’t shake my hand, instead, he pulls me into a hug. I hear a gasp and what sounds like a soft sob from Maren. He pats my back twice and then pulls back, looking at me with a smile. “I am so happy to meet you, son. You’re a good man and smart to see the treasure she is.”

  I’m a fucking liar, but I force myself to remember why we’re doing this.

  He’s clearly overjoyed, and this might just bring him the peace his daughter is hoping for. It doesn’t really sit well that it’s all bullshit though.

  “I don’t think anyone can look at her and not see how special she is. I’m just lucky she thinks I’m worthy,” I say with an easygoing grin. Thank God for the years I spent perfecting this persona.

  Maren takes my hand again. “This is Linda, my dad’s wife.”

  I shake with my free hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Yes, likewise. It was a very long drive, do you happen to know if there’s a place my husband can rest? He’s very sick and requires a lot of breaks. It’s also time for another breathing treatment.”

  “Of course, Linda,” Maren says with ease, but her grip tightens just a bit, portraying her true emotions. “We’ll take you into the lobby.”

  “We’d prefer to just check in to our room.”

  I glance at my watch, knowing we need at least another forty minutes before I can put them in the room.

  I give her my most charming smile, the one that all the ladies seem to love. “Mrs. McVee, I’d love to show you there, but first, allow me to give you a short tour. I’m sure that you all will love Melia Lake, the views from the back deck are stunning and we can have some food and drinks out there. With you all just getting here, I’d like to have some time to talk and take in the fresh air.”

  Linda blinks a few times and then shakes her head. “Oh, but . . . I . . .”

  Patrick speaks before anyone else can. “I’d like that. Some fresh air would be nice.”

  “But you need your medications.”

  He nods. “And I can take them on the deck.”

  “No other guests are at the resort yet,” I explain. “So, we’ll have complete privacy other than my siblings, who are still working to get everything ready for when all the guests get here.”

  “Your siblings?” Linda asks.

  “Yes, my family owns this resort.”

  Her eyes widen. “You didn’t say that, Maren.”

  Maren tilts her head toward me, resting it on my shoulder. “It’s why it was so important to have the wedding here. Oliver and I wanted something that brings both our families together.”

  Her father smiles widely, and we all walk toward the back.

  “Wow, this is amazing,” Linda says as she takes in the view of the lake.

  It really is. My siblings and I have done a damn good job here. With our architect and design team, we were all able to use the land to help in every way. I’m proud of this place and all the work we put into it.

  Now, we just need it not to tank.

  “We’re going to expand that dock area in a few years, but we want to keep it in line with the rest of the resort. Down that trail”—I point to the one on the left—“my brother-in-law, Jack, has a cabin where he does all kinds of wilderness retreats and excursions. Families can take overnight trips or daytime hikes.”

  Maren’s father nods. “And what about that area?” he rasps as he points to another cabin that was not a planned addition.

  “That’s a children’s area. My niece thought there should be a place for little kids to go when they don’t want to be with their parents anymore. My brother, who can’t seem to tell the kid no, thought it was a great idea. The inside of it is amazing and should be experienced, but I’ll leave it at that so I don’t ruin your experience of seeing it for the first time. We also have a teen area on the property.”

  “So, you help your family and also work full-time with Maren as well?” he asks.

  Maren steps in. “Oliver is more of a silent partner in the resort. He’s just helping while they’re starting up.”

  “You said he was just on a mission,” Linda adds.

  “Yes, he was.”

  Linda turns to me. “How are you going to split your time?”

  “I won’t. I’ll work there and come here when I’m needed,” I explain. “We’re not concerned.”

  Patrick begins to cough, and as Linda starts to fuss with him, he waves her away and takes a seat at the table.

  She glares at Maren. “Get your father some water. It’s in my bag.”

  Linda continues to make comments under her breath as Maren hands the bottle to her father.
“I knew we shouldn’t have come up here. You don’t take your health seriously enough. We should’ve stayed home where you could get proper care. Now I have to make do with whatever is here.”

  Patrick grabs her hands, holding them against his chest. “I want to be here.”

  The two of them stare at each other, and finally, her shoulders fall. “I know.”

  He nods. “I’m fine.”

  Maren sits beside him. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  He turns to her quickly. “It’s the nature of my sickness, Princess. I’d be coughing here or in Georgia. I’d rather be here with you and Oliver. I already told Linda that I want the rest of my days to be filled with the people who matter.”

  I hope I know that kind of love one day.

  My phone pings with a message from Stella, letting us know their room is ready. I lean over, pressing my lips to Maren’s ear, inhaling the floral scent of her shampoo. “Be the hero and get them to their room.”

  Her hand moves to my cheek. “It’s done?”

  I smile, rubbing my nose against hers, wanting to kiss her so much I ache. “Yes.”

  She leans back, and the loss of her steals the breath from my lungs.

  “Daddy, why don’t we get you up to your room. You and Linda can rest, and when you feel up to it, we’ll go for a walk or whatever you want.” Her voice shakes a little at the end.

  “Good. We’ll let your father rest before we push him again,” Linda says, getting to her feet. “Since this entire weekend will most likely do him in.”

  Maren’s hands tremble slightly, and I grab them in mine. “We’ll make sure he takes it easy,” I assure her.

  After a lot of underhanded comments from Linda, we finally get them settled, and I am again amazed by the brilliance that is Stella. The room looks as if it were done weeks ago. There isn’t any dust or hint that this was a construction zone just a few hours ago. Linda gets Patrick settled on the sofa that sits close to the window, and we promise to come back in an hour.

  Once we’re out in the hallway, Maren leans against the wall. “We did it.”

  I nod. “We did.”