Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,404

wish she were still alive. Sure, Aunt Gigi helps in that department, and my father’s long-time girlfriend, Ana, is easy to talk to, but it’s not what I need right now. I need guidance from a woman who loves me unconditionally, who wants nothing more than happiness for me. Wes does make me happy. But is it the kind of happiness I’ve dreamt of since I was a little girl? Am I willing to settle for whatever I feel when I’m with him? Or am I having second thoughts because I almost kissed Drew earlier? Is this just the Catholic guilt I grew up with rearing its ugly head?

As I stand there, trying to make sense of the strange combination of remorse and uncertainty, I sense a presence approach from behind. A jacket is draped around my shoulders and I tilt my head to my left to see Wes beside me.

“Hey,” he breathes, hesitant.

Straightening, I pull his jacket closer. It smells like him, like spice and wood. It offers me a slice of comfort in a world that seems to be spiraling out of control.

“Hey.” The corners of my lips lift, treating him to a small smile.

“I’m sorry about all of that. I had no idea she was planning to go all Mom-zilla on you. I thought we were getting together for lunch to celebrate our engagement. I had no idea she was already looking at dates for the ceremony.”

“It’s okay.” I stare at the unnatural green lawn that goes on for miles, the occasional golf cart driving along the paths carrying golfers getting a jump-start on their game for the season. I’ve never understood the attraction to the game, but Wes claims it’s relaxing. I much prefer the excitement of a team sport…like hockey. “It’s a bit overwhelming.” I glance back at him. “Don’t you think it’s fast, planning a wedding for June?”

He seems to assess my question, then states, “No, I don’t.”

His response isn’t what I expected. Wes is a very methodical person. He isn’t impulsive or spontaneous. The craziest thing he’s probably ever done is go out of his way to stop by the café to see if I was there. He has a routine, and he sticks to it.

“You don’t?”

He grabs a hand in each of his and I face him. “Brooklyn, I love you. Ever since you finally agreed to go out to dinner with me, I’ve been the happiest I can remember. There’s something about you… I don’t know what it is. It’s the same thing that’s drawn me to you since the first day I saw you, heard your laugh, felt your soul. When I asked you to marry me, it wasn’t about having a wedding. It was because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. The wedding is just an excuse to play dress-up.” He brings a hand to my lower back, dragging my body into his. When he leans down, his breath warms my neck. “Then take you back to a ridiculously expensive hotel suite where I can strip you down to nothing but your wedding ring.”

The way his body feels against mine, coupled with his deep, sensual tone, causes a tingle to spread through me. It’s not the hurricane of butterflies that flapped their wings in my stomach when Drew had me pinned on the ice, but I can’t think about that. I shouldn’t think about that.

Wes pulls back, his entire expression brightening. “If you want to wait until you’re done with your PhD program, I’ll do that for you. It will be torture to wait that long for you to have my last name, but your happiness is what’s most important to me.”

I stare into his calm eyes, physically able to feel his adoration for me. Should it matter when we get married? I agreed to be his wife. The wedding is just a way to make it official. Maybe it’s for the best we marry sooner rather than later. I fear the longer we wait, the more complicated things will become.

“I don’t want you to have to wait, Wes,” I finally say, cupping his cheeks in my hands, bringing his lips toward mine. “Like you said… It’s just a wedding. I already agreed to marry you. So let’s plan for June.”

All the tension seems to roll off his body as he presses his mouth to mine, his arms swallowing me. His tongue skims my lower lip, asking for permission, and I open for him.