I offer a shrug in return. “I wish I understood why.”
“Isn’t it obvious? I thought it was.” He pauses when I lift my brows in question. “Girl, you are everything she’s always really tried to be but never was: independent, self-made, naturally beautiful, kind, gentle, good. You’re a good woman, Will. And you started from scratch, just like her. Hell, you had it worse without your parents, but you rose above it. You built your own life. She’s relied on marrying for money for hers.”
“I wish I could feel sorry for her.”
“You don’t have to feel sorry for her,” Jamie replies. “Sheila made her choices, and you made yours. It’s not your fault she never once tried to better herself. You did, and it pisses her off. How can you be so successful and happy, if you didn’t whore yourself out to the first rich Hamptons guy you came across?”
I shudder at the thought. “I assume my having Cole’s affection didn’t sit well with her either.”
“Of course not. What, you thinksherejectedhim?” Jamie laughs.
“I know he’s the one who put an end to it,” I reply with a heavy sigh. “It’s just too much drama, to be honest. I’ve got enough to deal with. The last thing I need is Sheila’s venom on top of everything else.”
“You handled her like a champ.”
“I guess I did.”
It gives me a smidgen of pride, I’ll admit. However, I don’t understand why she keeps poking and prodding me. What’s her endgame? Maybe there isn’t one. Maybe Jamie is right, and Sheila is just projecting her misery onto me because she doesn’t know how else to cope with her owndecisions.
I have too much going on to let her bother me.
Like figuring out how to tell three men that one of them is going to be a father.
23
WILLOW
The next morning, Jamie and I walk into the office to find it flooded with flowers, so many beautiful flowers: bouquets of red roses with sprigs of lily-of-the-valley sprinkled here and there; lilies and gorgeous freesias in decorative baskets; and potted dahlia and chrysanthemum arrangements that fill the room with a complex yet remarkably delicate blend of fragrances.
“Oh, my days,” Jamie gasps. He goes in first, his eyes round and big as he tries to take it all in.
I’m breathless, but I already know who they’re from. I spot the note on my desk before him.
“When the guy at the reception desk downstairs said he let the florist delivery guy in, I thought he meant the florist delivery guy who was supposed to bring us the bride’s bouquet samples, not this. Whatisthis?” Jamie croaks.
“It’s Cole, Asher, and Toby asking me out on a dinner date,” I reply and give him the note to read for himself.
My heart flutters with excitement. Their persistence may finally pay off. Most guys would have just given up, or worse, they’d show up at my doorstep. But the Morgan brothers have kept a respectful distance, and I know it hasn’t been easy for them.
Every night, I fall asleep thinking about them, with one hand between my legs, imagining I’m back at Cole’s penthouse, tangled with them in bed. Every morning, I wake up with a pang of sadness in my chest, their strong arms nowhere to be found. Tearing up, I sit behind my desk as Jamie finishes reading the note.
“Girl…”
“What?” I sigh deeply.
“How much longer are you going to torture yourself like this?”
“Torture might be too strong a word,” I say with a quiet giggle, but I’m not really laughing, and Jamie knows it.
He motions at the sea of flowers around us. “Look at this.”
“I kind of have to; they’re everywhere.”
“My point exactly. Most girls only dream of such grand gestures. You actually get it. Most girls only dream of a real man. You’ve got three of them, who are more than willing and happy to spoil you rotten. What are you so afraid of?”
That’s the real question, isn’t it? What am I so afraid of? Finding out about Sheila and Cole was the perfect reason for me to walk out of a relationship that most girls would never even dream of.
But I was there. I felt it. I saw what it could be like, and it scared me because I’ve been in a comfort zone of my own.Except it’s not real comfort, it’s just something I was used to: always being out of happiness’s reach.
