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“It’s him.” Carver pops out from behind the staircase carrying a silver tray.
“Speak of the devil.” Jake huffs a laugh. He shakes his head, tightening his finger around mine. “What are you doing here?”
“Sloan never turns down Caroline.”
“And you never turn down Sloan.”
“Sure I do. But I also concede that I’m able to give my wife the finer things that she should have had before we met, and spending time with Caroline makes Sloan happy. How lucky are you that Paisley had a good life… Until she met you, of course. Then it all went downhill.” Carver winks at me.
“Play nice, Jake. Carver is the closest thing to a brother that I’m giving you.” As she approaches, I latch onto a slight rasp in Caroline Ballentine’s voice.
She’s a striking blonde. Her sharp cheek lines mirror Jake’s and she has the same blue eyes. If they change color the way Jake’s can depending his mood, no wonder Caroline captivated men. I haven’t looked away from her face to notice her body and, even past her prime—a phrase that’s the least befitting as most women nowadays could pass as years younger than I presume Caroline is—it’s not as if her attire hides her curves. Jake’s mom radiates a level of gorgeousness that the women I dress aspire to.
“Thank god for that, Mom. You know, it might boost my confidence every now and again if you took my side and told Carver to play nice with me.”
“Oh, baby. I do.” She cups a manicured hand on his cheek, patting lightly. “Just not when you’re around because you have such big issues with that over-inflated ego of yours.”
Carver lifts his knuckle to his nose and snorts. It’s obvious around Caroline the men treat one another like siblings.
I can’t help giggling.
“Gee, thanks,” Jake says. A sarcastic smile etches his face, making the cleft in his chin more pronounced. He’s sexy when he’s broody, but he’s truly handsome when he’s happy.
“I’m glad to have both of you boys home whenever you want to come over and whatever the reason is for.” Caroline hugs her son. It’s the first time Jake has let go of me since we exited the car. “I love you. It’s good to see you.” She pulls out of the embrace and steps back on her high heel. “You must be Paisley.”
I roll my lips between my teeth, nodding. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
She takes my hands and looks me up and down. “Oh, Jake. Something tells me you finally got it right.”
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17
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“Only the five of us?” I ask my mom.
She shoots me the “don’t start” look and sits down between my girlfriend and Sloan. Carver sets a silver tray of finger sandwiches on the coffee table. The tea service is already there. Mom has pulled out all the stops. Like Pais, my mother wants to make a good impression.
Caroline Ballentine doesn’t lack male companionship, though she’s never introduced me to anyone. I wish she’d “get it right”. I wish she would move on. My dad’s been gone a long time, longer than he’s been dead, and what he put her through was wrong.
I don’t understand how loyal she is to him. I don’t get how she can still love him, focus on the good times, and act ignorant of the bad.
I’ve seen firsthand how love destroys a person. First withhimandherwhen he gave up his dreams after I picked those godforsaken lilies for her casket, and then when my dad betrayed my mom’s trust. My mother stood by my father when he went to jail. While he was on the inside accused of dealing, she was dealing with the mess he’d created on the outside. Fighting to keep the house that the good people of Brighton had already tried to take from her, and to not surrender the club that bore her name.
Do I want her to have stars in her eyes over some dude who wants to pretend he’s my daddy? Nah. But I don’t want her spending the rest of her life so hung up on my father that she can’t bear inviting anyone to join us.
“Paisley, I was downtown and saw that Dusty did such a wonderful job replacing the store’s window. I especially like the logo decal he added to the glass.” Sloan says to my girlfriend.
“That’s my favorite part, too.” Paisley holds up her finger, making the half yin and yan symbol. “When Greer saw them, she asked Dusty to make a honeycomb design for Mind Your Own Beeswax. The credit goes to Jake, though. The decal was a surprise. He asked Dusty to do it. I knew nothing until we went to inspect the window.”
“What a sweet gift.” Sloan turns to face me, unbelieving I’d have the chivalry to do something so simple.
I get hot under the collar from her attention. Sloan and I mix like oil and water. I’m not used to her compliments. She’s kind to everyone but me. Although the reasons why are my fault. Carver’s wife has an uncanny resemblance toher. Except the similarity is only skin deep.
Sloan was nothing more to Carver than a pretty face until she weaseled her way into his good graces. The shift I saw in him—how he began relinquishing the desire for money and influence he’d sought since we were kids—was reminiscent of witnessing how others had given up. It’s why I did what I did when it was obvious he was going to break his own rules and allow Sloan to stay at the mill. I tried to talk Carver out of starting a relationship with Sloan. She had the roughest upbringing of any of the mill girls. Carver smoothed out her sharp edges.
I don’t like liking Sloan even in a platonic way, and I don’t like it when Sloan graces me with any compliment. So, I can’t utter a “thank you.” Hell, I’d be remiss for taking credit for doing something nice for my girlfriend when her association with me was the impetus for the boutique needing a new window.
