“I’m sorry I wasn’t ready to talk, it was just…so much happened that day. I needed a minute.”
“Baby, don’t apologize for needing some time. Please.” I want to reach through the phone and pull her into my arms, to ease the stress written all over her face. “I hope you know just how sorry I am for how things went down that night. I’m not apologizing for defending you against that asshole, or with Lydia, but I am sorry for the outcome. For our relationship ending up public knowledge before you were really ready for that. And I never should have confessed my feelings in front of your uncle and Lydia. Not only because you wanted us to keep things a secret, but because that’s not the way you deserve to hear me say I’m falling in love with you. You deserve to hear those words when it’s just you and me, and when I can not only say them, but show you. But I’m not going to deny those feelings any longer, either. I can’t.”
I watch her brush away a tear from her cheek when I finally finish blurting out my apology and my hand clenches in the sheets beside me. I’m trying hard not to be frustrated that we’re having this conversation over the phone, instead of when I’m home and can hold her. But I’ll be damned if I’m not going to seize this opportunity to tell her how I feel.
“I love you, Willow Lawson. I never expected to, never thought I deserved to have a woman like you when I’m already blessed with a career like mine and an amazing daughter. I didn’t think I could have it all, but now I realize I just never found a woman who was worth fighting for. A woman who would be worth the work of balancing a demanding career, my daughter, and a relationship. But you’re worth it. Hell, you deserve even more than what I can give you, but I’m hoping you’ll let me try to be the man you deserve.”
“Ronan,” she starts with a whisper, and my heart freezes. “I hear you. I hear those beautiful words, and I want to be ready to say them back. But you have to understand, everything I thought I knew, or believed to be true, has been flipped upside down. And I know it’s a good thing. That Uncle Mike is fine with our relationship. But things have changed now that everyone knows about us, and I just need a minute to wrap my head around that new reality.”
“Cherry, you take whatever time you need to adjust. Just know that I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not giving up on us. What we have is too good, too right. You need to see that it’s safe to love me, that nothing bad will happen, and I swear, I’ll be right here waiting to prove that to you whenever you’re ready.”
Chapter thirty-one
Willow
Waiting three more days for Ronan to come home after our long emotional call has been torture. He loves me. He’s not going to stop loving me just because I needed a bit more time. And he’s made it very clear just how serious he is about winning me back. I can’t wait until I see him in person to tell him he doesn’t have to win me back. Because I’m already his.
Still, having a fresh cup of coffee fixed exactly the way I like it waiting on my desk each morning was a nice surprise. Although, I have no idea how he managed it from the road. And now, today, there’s a giant glass jar full of Skittles sitting on my desk without a single yellow one.
My smile is wide as I open my text messages, snap a photo of the jar, and send Ronan a text. The team just got back into town early this morning, and I’m guessing he’s spending the day with Peyton.
WILLOW: You realize I make Lark keep my skittles so that I don’t eat them all at once, right? This is dangerous…
His answer shows up seconds later.
RONAN: You’re the strongest woman I know, you can handle the temptation. Besides. When they’re all gone, I’ll just refill the jar.
WILLOW: So you’ll still like me when I balloon in size from eating a million skittles a day?
RONAN: Cherry, I’d still love you no matter what you look like. You’re beautiful, and you always will be to me.
His easy use of that L-word makes goosebumps appear along my arm, and my grin doesn’t subside.
“Willow, can you come into my office for a meeting? We’ve got a situation.” Uncle Mike’s voice is grim from the doorway of my office, making my attention snap up to him from my phone.
He takes in the candy jar on my desk with raised eyebrows but doesn’t say a thing. His face does, however, soften as he looks at me with a small knowing smile.
I stand up, grabbing my phone and a notepad before hurrying after him to his office. Once we’re inside, he closes the door.
“What’s going on?” I ask nervously. “Should I call Lydia?”
Uncle Mike shakes his head. “No.” That cryptic one-word answer has my eyes widening, but he shoots me a look that silences me.
“The issue at hand is Maverick King.” Steepling his fingers together, Uncle Mike takes a long breath in and out. “He’s in the hospital.”
I gasp, but he holds up his hand.
“That’s not the real issue. I mean, it is, but there’s more. There’s a video all over social media that’s going viral.” Uncle Mike turns his phone around so I can see it. And it’s not good.
Maverick is standing face-to-face with some other guy, a small group of people behind them. It’s hard to see with the shaky video quality, but Mav looks angry. They’re out on some country road I don’t recognize. He climbs into a red sports car, the other guy into a black one, and the next thing I hear is the roar of engines and the squeal of tires as both cars take off at top speed.
This can’t be good.
Off camera, I can hear someone talking about the cars, placing bets on who they think might win. Then there’s a sickening sound, and the cameraman starts yelling before the video cuts off.
“What happened?” I demand.
“Maverick’s car hit a telephone pole,” Uncle Mike answers, and my heart plummets.
