Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,11

clear.

“She purchased it in your name.”

I reel back in shock, nearly spitting out the sip of tea I’d just taken. “Um, Mom, a house? Three hours away?” I asked, not trying to sound ungrateful, but what the hell was I supposed to do with a house hours from where my life is?

Mom placed her hands on the counter. “Consider it an early birthday gift,” she said, her eyes full of mischief. “That being said, the realtor informed me that the house does need a bit of tender, loving care. We can’t get away for a while, so I thought the best way for you to spend your summer was going to the lake house, doing any cleaning or maintenance that might need done, then decorating and preparing for it to become a rental property. After all, if being married to your father has taught me anything, it’s that you’re never too young for a sound investment. You know, if you’re up for getting your elbows a little dirty.”

My mother is a mad genius. She knew that the best way to get me out of the house for the summer would be to dangle not only an investment but also a challenge in front of my face.

Arguing was futile. So here I am, sitting on the deck of my summer purgatory with my brother in tow, even though Mom claimed I’d be alone.

A clap of thunder brings me back to the present, and I glance over and see Clay’s still waiting for me to respond to him.

“Look, I’m fine. I’m over it. Ready to move the hell on with whatever summer honeys Crystal Cove has to offer this year.”

I’m not lying, though everyone in my family thinks I am. Just the thought of tasting brand-new pussy has me half-cocked already. Not that I didn’t appreciate everything Gwen had to offer. It’s just…all I’ve ever had.

Gwen Mattingly and I grew up next door to each other for our entire lives. Hers were the first pigtails I pulled, the first lips I kissed, and the first breasts I saw. The first girl I gave everything to. Everyone, including our parents, assumed we’d grow up, join our families, have little Wellington-Mattingly babies, and live happily ever after.

Hell, I’d thought the same thing. We were inseparable through childhood and high school until she went off to Bryn Mawr College in northern Pennsylvania and I chose my father’s alma mater, Vanderbilt, right in the heart of Nashville. We saw each other every other month or so in the beginning, but the more we both got into our schooling, the harder it was to make the trip for either of us. Letters and phone calls became fewer and farther between. Even when we were both back home for the summer, our time together was limited since I spent most of my time at Wellington and she spent her time at her parents’ country club.

Which was where she fell in love with John Thomas Crossley IV over endless summer days playing tennis and apparently endless summer nights playing tonsil hockey. She had the decency to be tearful when she admitted to me that she’d cheated.

I shocked even myself when I realized I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t…anything. Any love I’d had for Gwen had evolved with distance. The truth was I loved her enough, in some kind of way, that made me happy for her. Another fact I couldn’t deny was that I’d played a role in our breakup by neglecting her.

The biggest truth? I was awash with relief when she told me she wanted to be with J.T. instead of me. There’d been a Gwen-named noose around my neck practically since I’d hit puberty and finally, finally, I was a bachelor for what felt like the first time in my life.

No one bought my indifference.

No one believed me that I was a-okay with the breakup.

Not when I broke the news to my family with a smile on my face.

Not when I took a pretty receptionist to the company Christmas party.

Hell, Dad went to scold me but stopped himself because he knew I was “just trying to save face from Gwen’s betrayal” as he called it.

Don’t even get me started on when, less than four months later, my mother received a wedding invitation for the future Mr. and Mrs. Crossley, which she promptly burned in an indignant huff.

Then the wedding announcement for the same couple was in the Belle Meade paper. Hell, I even commented that Gwen made a