“Well, Joyce is with him now. I believe she’s introducing him to Amber. I think they would make a good couple.”
“You’re just saying that because you want your granddaughter to be a Batchelor.”
My eyes panned to Wesley. Granny was no longer with him, but he was talking to the woman I assumed to be Amber. I assessed her. She was beautiful. Gorgeous natural hair, brown skin, long legs. Seemed like his type but also seemed familiar.
The woman laughed, placed her hand on Wes’s arm.
Oh, hell no, I need to nip this in the bud right now.Starting with that necessary conversation and ending with, hopefully, me sitting on his face.
I glanced at my phone and typed out a text:Meet me at the carriage house. On the roof. Thirty minutes.
Chapter 18
Wesley
Meet me at the carriage house. On the roof. Thirty minutes.
I stared at the message for a moment. My thoughts swirled with possibilities. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but it felt like we’d turned a page in the long story of our life. Earlier, she’d signaled that she was open to me, to us. Considering our last several interactions, it could go either way.
The problem with letting her set the pace, though, was that I’d essentially given up control of the situation. Which was incredibly uncomfortable. Powerless was an emotional state I’d worked hard to avoid. After my father’s death, I felt far too open, too vulnerable to be effective in anything. That feeling lasted for years.
Despite my desire to move forward with Albany, I was very aware of my precarious situation. At any given moment, I found myself simultaneously reaching for her, dreaming about her, and dreading the moment she finally walked away from me for good. Walking away fromherwasn’t an option, though. As much as I wanted her to take the chance, if she decided the risk was too big for her to take, I had no choice but to accept it.
I deserve it.
Fucked-up father and family issues aside, I’d treated her horribly. Yes, I was young, but there was no one to blame but me. I’d hurt her at a time in her life when she needed me to speak life to her, to love her unconditionally. The way she’d always done for me. She’d given me a gift—freely, with no hesitation. She’d trusted me with her heart, and I squandered it.
I read her message again and made the decision to hope for the best and prepare for the worst. Ideally, it was the opening I needed to close the deal, to make her mine.Forever.
“This is awkward.”
My gaze flickered to the woman standing next to me. I’d been so consumed with my thoughts, I completely forgot she was standing there.
“I’m sorry,” I grumbled.
Imagine my surprise when the person Granny wanted me to meet was the last woman I’d had sex with, pre-Albany’s return. The night before the anniversary of my father’s death. And just like then, I couldn’t seem to remember her name.
“Amber,” she said, sensing my dilemma.
“Yeah. It’s good to see you.”
Albany emerged from the house, arm in arm with Bri. The two of them made a beeline for the food.
As always, she was the perfect combination of classic and sexy, sophisticated and soft. She wore a flowy, pink floral dress and high-heeled sandals. Her skin glowed under the hot sun and her hair was blown straight. I looked her up and down, taking in every inch of her body from her part in the middle of her hair to her feet.
Beautiful.
“Let me guess”—Amber leaned closer, her voice low—“Albany?”
Frowning, I glanced at her. “What?”
“The woman you’re staring at.” She pointed toward the buffet table. “Is shetheAlbany?”
Yeah … I’m an asshole.Calling another woman by my exgirlfriend’s name. There was really no excuse. I scratched the side of my face. “I’m sorry about that,” I muttered.
She waved me off. “No worries. Glad to see that you are still in touch with her.”
“What do you mean?”
