A Chance for Us (Willow Creek Valley Book 4) Page 8

  She pushes off, coming to stand in front of me. Lifting up on her toes, she presses her lips to mine in a brief-but-searing kiss. “Thank you.”

  Her one hand rests on my chest, right above my heart. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s something to me.”

  The way she’s looking at me makes me feel like I’m twelve feet tall.

  What worries me is that she might mean something to me by the end of this, and that would be really bad.

  I’m sitting in the lobby, waiting for Patrick to make his way down. He asked me to meet him here—without Maren.

  She owes me so damn big for this.

  Josh plops down beside me.

  “How are things going?” I ask.

  “Hectic, but thank God for Stella and her schedule.”

  I nod once. “She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s great at getting things done. Odette really stepped up too.”

  “Seriously, she saved our asses by contracting all these crews for a fraction of what we would have paid without her help.”

  My siblings hate me. Well, they love me, but they’re none too happy. If we hadn’t had this wedding booked, then the weather delays for construction wouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But I did book it, and it left us scrambling to get the resort ready. It’s a small part of why I am not fighting everyone about this wedding. I owe them. I know it. They know it. So, it’s happening.

  “How is Delia?” I ask, moving onto lighter topics.

  “Still refusing to marry me,” Josh muses, resting his head on the wall.

  “You can marry Maren.”

  “I think you’ve got that one covered.”

  “This is what I get for being a nice guy,” I muse.

  “Can’t argue with you there. However, you can say no, Ollie. No one would do this other than you. You know that, right?”

  My brothers like to talk a big game, but if Delia or Jessica asked either of them to fake marry them to make their parent happy, they would’ve done the same shit. Jessica has always had a hold on Grayson. Fuck, he bought a huge piece of land because they shared a kiss or some shit there. And Josh? He moved into Delia’s house, pretending it was to keep her safe from the kid who was breaking into cars. They’re so quick to paint me one way while failing to see their own crap.

  “You know you’re full of shit, right?” I toss back.

  “How?”

  “Because if this were Delia, you’d do anything.”

  “So, you’re in love with your fiancée?” Josh asks without missing a beat.

  I roll my eyes. “That’s not even possible.”

  “That’s my point. Yeah, I’d do it for Deals because I love her. I love her more than any man can love another woman. What’s your reason?”

  I don’t love Maren. She’s a friend who needs help and also happens to be really fucking hot and a great kisser. That part’s a nice bonus. Yeah, I’m attracted to her, which any man would be. That doesn’t mean anything.

  It’s lust. Pure and simple lust.

  My desire to help her comes from my being a good fucking human. I may not understand it, but it matters to her.

  Plus, it’s not like I’m ever going to actually marry anyone. I have zero desire to go through this bullshit in real life, so I might as well do it for pretend. However, I’m not telling that to my brother, who used to think love is a lie we feed ourselves to now thinking everything is awesome.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Our psychotic sister threatened my life by offering me as a midnight snack to the monster she thinks lives in the woods.”

  “I think it was more murder, but the end goal would be the same.”

  “I’m so glad you’re able to remember her threats so easily. I can’t keep up.”

  Josh smirks. “Usually I can’t between her and Delia, I’m usually fearful of my life. However, Stella isn’t the real reason and we both know it. So, what gives?”

  I fight back another quip and tell him a small part of the truth. “Because she asked me to do something for someone she loves. Plus, I get to be the hero of the family.”

  He shrugs with a chuckle. “I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that she’s pretty.”

  “She’s more than that.”

  “Oh?” Josh asks with a smirk. “Do I detect feelings?”

  “Don’t be a fucking idiot—if that’s possible.”

  “You know, I remember you and Alex giving me loads of shit when it came to Delia,” Josh reminds me. “You were spouting off about feelings and when something’s right. I’m not saying that it’s fate or whatever, but it’s something.”

  My brother is making zero sense. “What’s something?”

  “The way you look at her.”

  I don’t look at her in any way. “I look at her the same way I look at you.”

  At that, my brother lets out a loud laugh. “If you say so.”

  A headache is starting to brew. I move my fingers to my temple and start to massage it. “I can’t get into this.”

  Josh slaps me on the back and then gets up. “I’m just saying that you’re the only one of us who wanted to be married and live the family life. You thought you’d marry that girl in high school. Then you wanted to marry Devney. Now, you’re getting everything you asked for, so maybe it’s everything you want too.”

  “My God, Delia has made you soft. Where’s my brother who was all . . . fuck love? Bring that guy back. At least he still had his balls.”

  “And there is the Oliver I know”—Josh tosses back—“always ready to cast shit off as a joke when it feels a bit too real.”

  I flip him off, and he returns the sentiment before walking away.

  Everything I want. What the hell does he know about what I want? I want a girl who fucking loves me. Loves me like Jess loves Gray or Delia loves him. That’s what matters. That’s the real thing. I’ve been searching for that.

  “You look lost, son,” Patrick says in a raspy voice as he comes to a stop in front of me.

  “Not lost, just . . . siblings.”

  He chuckles low. “I have five of those, I know your pain. May I sit?”

  “Of course.” I move over, allowing him more room.

  As he takes the place Josh vacated, he lets out a long sigh. “It’s hard to get around some days,” Patrick admits. “Other days, I can’t get around at all, but thankfully, that’s not today.”

  I nod, not sure what to say.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked to speak with you.”

  “Not really. I figured we would have one of these talks,” I say with a grin.

  “Yes, I guess that’s true. Fathers and their daughters. A child is a wonderful gift a man can receive. Of course, when my wife was pregnant with Maren, I wished for a boy. Not sure why, but it was more of what I thought should happen. When we had her, I realized how nothing happens that shouldn’t.” He grins and pats my leg. “She’s the best thing in this world, and knowing that you’ll be here to care for her when I’m gone, well, it’s everything to me.”

  Shit. I may have been expecting this conversation, but I wasn’t expecting the emotions that came with it. I clear my throat and look away.

  Patrick continues. “I’m dying, and that’s a hard thing—mostly because I see the fear and sadness in the people I love. I hear Linda cry when she thinks I’m asleep, and Maren, well, she’s good at hiding things, but I can see it in her eyes. I don’t think there’s anything that girl wouldn’t do for me.”

  He has no freaking idea. “I think you’re right about that.”

  “I want to tell you, man-to-man, that I will never be able to express how much this means to me. All of what you’re doing, it’s . . .”

  “What?” I ask for clarification.

  “The sense of peace it gives me to know that she’ll have you by her side, that you’ll be there to hold her together when she falls apart, is something I can’t explain. I’ve held on for so long out of fear that those I love would need me, but Maren has you now.
”

  If I hadn’t been going to hell before, I would be now. “Patrick,” I say, hoping the rest of what I want to say will suddenly come to me, but truly, I’m at a loss.

  “I’ll be able to rest easy knowing she’s not alone, but I need you to promise me something.”

  No, no, no. I am not promising the McVee family anything else. I’m already in enough freaking hot water. I need to find a way back into the big guy’s good graces.

  He continues on as though my silence is acceptance. “Promise me that, even when things are hard, you’ll always remember how special she is.”

  Okay, that I can do. “I promise.”

  “Good. And that you’ll always be there, even when I can’t be.”

  I stay silent, feeling like the worst human being ever. Patrick rises, his hand resting on my shoulder as a tear falls down his cheek. “You’re exactly the kind of man I wished she’d find.”

  And I’m the worst person who ever lived.

  Eleven

  MAREN

  My entire family has arrived. My aunts, uncles, two cousins, the Parkersons have settled into their rooms, and both groups have gathered down at the lake for an informal meet and greet.

  Well, it was supposed to be informal. I’m not sure Stella knows what that word means. There’s a full bar and servers, handing out champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Everyone is smiling, laughing, and getting along wonderfully.

  Oliver comes up beside me, his hand settling on the small of my back. “Everyone is having a good time,” he says against my ear.

  “I know, make it stop.”

  He chuckles. “You want them to hate it?”

  I press my hand to his chest, leaning in as though we’re talking about something that has embarrassed me. “No, but this is almost too easy.”

  Oliver kisses my forehead. “Relax, let everyone have fun.”

  I sigh, smiling up at him. “What about you? Are you having fun?”

  “I’m not even sure what’s happening anymore.”

  “Same,” I admit. “It’s like our families have been friends for a lifetime, and I was an idiot for spending so much time worrying about them getting along.”

  I thought that it would be awkward, but it hasn’t been. Everyone hugged, my aunts gushed over how handsome Oliver was, and my uncles wanted to talk about the land.

  Oliver and I fall silent, too lost in watching each other, until there’s a slight tapping on glasses.

  We turn to look around, and my eyes land on his brothers, who are all grinning.

  “Kiss her, Oliver,” Grayson says first.

  Then Josh steps forward, lifting his glass. “To the happy couple.”

  Oliver grumbles under his breath, but his smile doesn’t falter. He pulls me to his chest and then kisses me softly.

  Josh laughs. “Kiss her like you mean it!”

  He mutters again, and this time, I catch something about brothers and death before he plants one on me again. This kiss isn’t soft like the one before. He kisses me hard, and before I know it, I’m kissing him back.

  My fingers grip his shirt, holding him tight until the laughter has us breaking apart.

  I blink a few times, unsure of what the hell came over me, and Oliver steps back. “Good enough for you, brother?”

  Josh grins. “Improvement for sure.” He raises his glass again. “As the best man, I’d like to say a few words.”

  “No,” Oliver says quickly.

  “It’s tradition,” Josh says smoothly, and his girlfriend, Delia, gives me an apologetic look. “My brother is the best person I know. He’s giving, willing to do anything for a friend in need, and always putting the people he loves first. It’s a gift, really, one that neither I nor my other siblings possess. Oliver truly is the best of us. Maren, it’s been an honor getting to know you, and we welcome you to the family.”

  Everyone raises their glass and takes a sip as Josh makes his way over to us.

  “I behaved.”

  “Kind of,” Oliver says, draining the rest of his glass. “Also, who made you best man?”

  “What, you were going to pick Grayson?”

  “I was going to pick Stella since she has bigger balls than you. Or maybe Jack since I like him the most right now.”

  “Since it’s not real, it doesn’t matter.” Josh shrugs as Delia wraps her arms around his middle.

  “I’m so sorry for that. I made him promise to behave, but we all know that’s like trying to control a tornado,” Delia says as she looks up at him. “All things considered, it could’ve been worse.”

  “It will be,” Josh promises. “The actual speech will be much more fun.”

  She sighs. “This is the first time we’ve let him around adults since Everett was born, he’s a bit rusty.”

  “Honestly, I’m not surprised. If someone in my family decides to do a speech, they’ll be doing the same. My aunts and uncles are all smartasses who would thrive on chaos,” I explain.

  When I was little, my family was always up to mischief, usually my father was the object of their torment. It didn’t matter that he was the oldest of them, he was the easiest target. Daddy loved his hair and would spend hours making sure it was always in the right place, he agonized over his clothes, and it’s still a constant joke. Vanity will be my father’s ultimate downfall.

  “Good, then we’ll find out everything we can about you so we can embarrass you tomorrow at the rehearsal.”

  Linda and my father approach, and Oliver takes my hand, squeezing just a little.

  “Maren, dear, your father is getting tired, and I need to set up his medication. How much longer will this be?”

  I look to my father, who rolls his eyes, saying, “I’m fine, Linda.”

  “You are not fine. You are sick and need to take care of yourself. Maren doesn’t understand what it’s like for you. She doesn’t come around often enough to see your daily struggles,” Linda argues. “I’m the one who manages everything, and believe me, I know when you’re overdoing it and need rest.”

  He closes his eyes but nods. “You’re right.”

  I want to scream. To throw my hands up and tell him to be a man, take a stand, not to let her control this, but I’ve learned that it doesn’t help. “I would be happy to get you situated somewhere so you don’t have to leave, Daddy. I really would like for you to stay and spend time with the family.”

  He looks to me. “I would too. Maybe once I take my medications . . .”

  “And a nap,” Linda adds on.

  “And a nap, I’ll come back down.”

  Aunt Eileen stops next to my dad. “Are you heading up to bed, Pat?”

  “Yes, I’m tired. Linda is making sure I don’t overdo it before the big day.”

  She looks to Linda and makes a sound through her nose. “I see.” I share a glance with my aunt because we both know the truth—Linda is done. “Well, it’s too bad you can’t tough it out a bit longer. We were going to sit in those chairs by the lake, but I understand that Linda might think it would be too hard for you to relax in all this fresh air. She often has you guys leaving early when she gets tired too.”

  Linda bristles. “I’m not saying it’s too hard to sit. I’m saying your brother is ill and needs to rest.”

  “Then let him rest by the shoreline. We’ll make sure he doesn’t get up,” she suggests. “He also hasn’t gotten to see his daughter and siblings in quite some time, which means he can push a little if he thinks he’s up to it. Since we all know the nature of his illness, we also know that time is fleeting. So, if my brother thinks he can manage, he should get the choice. Do you think you can manage it, Pat?”

  Dad looks to Linda.

  There is nothing she hates more than being questioned or talked into a corner. “If that’s what Patrick wants, then fine. But I know my husband, and he is ready to lie down.”

  My father smiles. “I’d like to stay, sweetheart. The fresh air is good for me, and we can rest in the chairs. Will you come sit with us?
” Daddy asks Oliver and me.

  “Of course,” Oliver says before I can. We walk down there, Oliver helping my father down the pathway.

  “This is very dangerous for you,” Linda says as she slips a little, but Oliver steadies her. “If I knew I might break my neck to spend some time with your sisters, I would’ve protested more. This is incredibly dangerous for you. If you fall, then what?”

  “The crew has plans to build steps so this isn’t quite so steep, but we had to focus on the indoors first,” Oliver explains.

  “Don’t worry,” Dad says with a wave of his arm. “I’m being careful.”

  We reach the bottom and get Daddy settled, and Aunt Marie comes down with a pillow and blanket. “Here, this way Pat can rest and be comfortable.”

  They fuss over him, and he rolls his eyes. “Enough. I’m fine.”

  I kiss his cheek. “Everyone just loves you.”

  We all sit around, telling stories of when I was little, and Oliver laughs as my family regales him with stories of my childhood that no one should know. How I got sick after my uncles took me on the spinning cups ride at the beach. How I cried after my first kiss because I thought he was trying to do something to hurt me with his tongue. And, of course, how I got locked in the store refrigerator when I was seven and playing hide and seek.

  The Parkersons make their way over to us and start with their own stories. I end up perched on Oliver’s leg, and his hand moves up and down my back as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It feels like it is too.

  It’s as though this man is exactly the man I’ve always wanted. As though, a few days ago, I didn’t have an engagement called off.

  This makes no sense. How can I not be completely wrecked over losing one-point-oh? I should be curled in a ball, sobbing about my lost love, but I’ve barely thought about him.

  I haven’t wished it were his lips kissing me or his hand in mine. If that isn’t a sign that I never should’ve agreed to marry him, then I don’t know what is.

  But this Oliver . . . he’s different.

  He’s kind and funny and open and adorable. He has gone out of his way to make me comfortable and befriend my family.