“Come on.” Our roles have reversed. I was the unstable one earlier in the night, but now I’m guiding his drunken ass down the hallway to our bedroom.

  I pull the covers back on his side of the bed and order him to climb inside. He crawls in and his eyes are shut when he says, “I love you, Laurelyn.”

  I’m hurt by what he’s done, and although I love him, I can’t make myself say the words in return.

  I climb in on my side and I already hear him snoring. It’s incredible but after being apart for three months, I can’t even hate that annoying sound.

  * * *

  When I wake again, I’m lying on my side and Jack Henry’s arm is around my waist. He’s pressed against me and I feel his breath on the back of my neck. “Please don’t make me let you go yet. I just need to savor feeling you like this for a little longer.”

  Those are parting words. He anticipates me leaving him. And he has reason to.

  I feel his head shift and now it’s pressed against my back. “I didn’t fuck her. I know you believe I did, but I swear I didn’t. I wasn’t lying to you when I told you I hadn’t been inside another woman since you.”

  I’ve never known Jack Henry to lie to me. I think that’s one reason the whole thing came as such a shock. That, and the fact that he knows how much I despise deceit.

  I pull away and flip over so I can see his face. “You did something with her.” And I know all the little naughty somethings he likes so much. “And whatever it was happened a week after I left. Seven damn days. Do you want to know what I was doing on day seven? I wasn’t out screwing around with some guy. I was in my apartment all alone, crying day and night because I was grieving the loss of us.”

  “Dammit, Laurelyn. You walked out on me without so much as a goodbye. Don’t think for one second that I wasn’t grieving the loss of us too. I thought I was never going to see you again and I was a total mess after you were gone. I stayed drunk the first week after. I was so fucking miserable and I just wanted to find a way to get over you. You said you thought Charlie might help you forget me. Well, I thought I needed number fourteen to make me forget you, so I picked that woman up in a hotel bar. She agreed to my conditions and I took her upstairs to the room I’d rented. I planned on fucking her until you were out of my head.”

  I can’t handle hearing this. It’s too much. “Stop. I don’t want to hear this. It will end me if I have to picture you with another woman.” I put my hands over my ears.

  He grabs my wrists to pull them down. “I had every intention of telling you about this woman, but the night you asked if there were others, I couldn’t say the words. We had just found each other and I didn’t want to ruin our reunion, so I planned on doing it later. But later never came.”

  “I don’t want to know. I don’t want to have the picture in my head.”

  “This will always come between us if I don’t tell you everything. You’ll always wonder what happened, so it’s better to get it out of the way so it can’t hurt us in the long run.” He brings my hands to his mouth and kisses them. “And I plan on it being a really long run—like, forever.”

  I brace myself for the pain that’s coming. It’s like seeing a bat being swung at my face in slow motion. I know it’s gonna hurt like hell and if it hits me hard enough, there’s a good chance I might die.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Jack McLachlan

  The thought of never telling Laurelyn about the woman in the hotel—potential number fourteen—had crossed my mind. I seriously considered keeping that secret to myself but I always knew I couldn’t deceive her that way. As time passed, the moment was never right—at least that’s what I told myself.

  I admit it. That was my excuse and it got me by for a while, but now it’s all come tumbling down on my head. Even in this moment, I want to back out because I’m scared shitless, but I have no choice. What I’m about to do could cost me the first and only woman I’ve ever been in love with, but I don’t think I could ever look straight at myself—or Laurelyn—if I don’t tell her everything.

  I clear my throat and the sound echoes off every wall in our bedroom. It calls attention to how quiet it is and to the fact that I’m about to tell her something that’s going to cause her pain. “I was so hammered that I could barely walk. All I could think about was you and how you left me without a goodbye. I understand why you did it, but it still hurt me terribly. I wanted the pain to go away, even if it was only for a few minutes. I thought fucking another woman would take away the pain I felt from losing you. But I was wrong; her touch made me sick. I couldn’t even let her kiss me when she tried.”

  “I don’t want you to describe being with her from beginning to end. I’d be envisioning the whole encounter in my head, so I’m going to ask you the things I think are important for me to know.”

  That’s probably better than getting my play-by-play. “Okay. I’ll honestly answer any questions you have.”

  “Was she naked?”

  Oh, fuck! She wants details—in-depth ones. I hadn’t planned on going into those kinds of specifics about my interaction with this woman. Now, I have no choice but to answer her because she has specifically asked. “Yes.”

  She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment before she opens them again. I think she’s debating if she wants to keep going with this line of questioning, but she continues. “Were you?”

  I don’t want to admit being naked with another woman a week after Laurelyn left. Even if I didn’t screw her, this doesn’t look good for me. But it is what it is, and I’m guilty, so now I get to pay the piper. “Yes.”

  She’s biting her lip but not in a sexy way—it’s from worry. “Did you go down on her?”

  I can’t believe she thinks I’d do that. “Hell, no!”

  “Did she go down on you?”

  This is not the way I planned on this conversation going. “No.”

  “Did you use your hand to make her come?”

  She’s staring me right in the face doing that thing she does—invoking her human lie detector skills. “No. I didn’t touch her there.”

  “But you did touch her?”

  I swallow hard. This isn’t going to go over well. “She put my hands on her tits.”

  “Did she touch your dick?”

  Damn! She’s leaving no stone unturned. “Yes,” I whisper as I close my eyes. “When she rolled the condom on me.”

  When I open my eyes, I see the tears pooling in hers. I vowed to never be this person—the one to cause her tears—and I swear this is the last time it’ll ever happen. I’ll spend the rest of my life making her smile and laugh.

  A single tear rolls down her cheek and I reach to wipe it away with my thumb, but she slaps my hand away. “Did she make you come?”

  I shake my head hard from side to side. “No fucking way.”

  “Why do you say it like that? You said she put a condom on you. That means you got hard for her.” Her eyes are narrowed at me. “Just how close were you to being inside her?”

  I sigh heavily before answering. “Close, but I couldn’t do it. I had my eyes squeezed shut so I didn’t have to look at her. All I could see was your face. I love you too much to ever be inside another woman. I swear I did not fuck her. Please believe me.”

  “My side of the bed wasn’t even cold yet.”

  I watch her face as she studies mine, and I’m terrified of what she’s about to say. I decide it’s time to plead for my life like I’m standing in front of a firing line. “We agreed we’d never see each other again and you left without saying goodbye. I thought we were over forever. I would’ve never gone looking for another woman if I’d thought I had a chance in hell of having you back in my life. Please forgive me, L. I love you. You’re the only woman I want. Ever.”

  She shuts her eyes and tears roll down her face. “I believe you when you say you didn’t have sex with that woman, but hearing the things you did with her is as painful as if you had. I can’t imagine my heart hurting worse than it does right now.”

  She turns onto her side facing away from me, and I don’t know where I stand. I have no idea what it means for her to believe me yet be so hurt by what I did.

  I want to reach out to touch her, to comfort her. I’m afraid she won’t allow me, but I can’t stop myself. I scoot closer and drape my arm over her waist. She struggles to get away but I pull her to me tightly. “You’re angry and I will take any punishment you see fit to give me because I fucked up big time, but I love you and this isn’t going to end us. We’re bigger than this stupid mistake of mine and we’re going to push through and come out bigger and better on the other side because of it.”

  She stops resisting and relaxes, so I hold her in my arms. I can feel the shuddering of her body as she cries and I’m terrified. I don’t know what I’ll do if she calls off the wedding. It’s a very real possibility. I reach for her left hand to see if she’s wearing her ring, and I’m relieved to feel it there. I bring it to my mouth and press it firmly against my lips. “Please tell me you still want to be my wife.”

  “Now isn’t the time to ask me that question.”

  Fuck! This could be it for us. She may not be able to move past my stupid mistake. “No, L. Please don’t end us. I’ll do whatever it takes to turn this around.”

  “I said I need time to think.” She pushes my hand away as she sits up on the edge of the bed, her back to me. “I want to go to Addison’s for a few days so I can sort through this without looking at you.”

  I don’t want her at Addison’s, not with that little bastard who wanted in her pants living right across the hall. “Baby, please don’t go there. Let me take you to Avalon and I’ll stay in the guest house. You and Addison can have the house and I won’t come back until you tell me I can.”

  “I’ll talk to Addison and let you know what I decide.” She gets up from the bed and goes into the bathroom. There’s a loud thud when she shuts the door and it’s a reminder that she is closing herself off from me.

  My mobile rings. My mum. I’m certain she’s calling to check on Laurelyn after her incident in the restaurant, so I can’t avoid her call. “Hello, Mum.”

  “Hey, how’s our girl feeling this morning?”

  I’m glad she doesn’t know what’s going on between us. She would beat the shit out of me if she got wind of it. “She’s feeling much better and is taking a shower right now.”

  “I’m so grateful to hear that. She had me worried. I’ve never seen anyone go so pale. Any idea what caused that to happen?”

  “She has migraines and one came on after we left the restaurant. She got sick once we were home, so I think it could be associated with that.” It’s not a lie.

  “That sounds like a very probable explanation. We have plans to do wedding shopping today and Chloe wants to prepare some of the wedding food for her to sample this evening. Did she mention if she felt well enough to do that?” I highly doubt it.

  I rack my brain for a way to cover my foolish mistake. “She didn’t, but I have to be back at Avalon this afternoon. Maybe I can bring her next weekend.” That is, if she hasn’t left me by then.

  “Why don’t you go on back and I can drive her home in a few days after we’ve worn her out shopping?”

  I don’t think Laurelyn’s gonna go for that. She isn’t going to want to spend the next few days shopping for our wedding, but I don’t have a reasonable excuse to give my mum. “I’ll ask her when she gets out of the shower and have her call you back.”

  “Okay.”

  I end the call but dread telling Laurelyn about Mum’s suggestion because I don’t want to hear her response—my reality check for how she’s considering calling off our wedding. I sit motionless on the bed until I hear the shower turn off. I consider knocking on the door but decide it’s best if I wait until she comes out.

  She emerges wrapped in a towel to get her things from her bag because she doesn’t have clothes here at the apartment yet.

  Yet. It occurs to me that after last night’s encounter with that woman, she may never keep her things here.

  “My mum called to check on you. She asked if I’d leave you here to wedding shop while I go back to Avalon.”

  She stops in front of her suitcase and looks at me. “What did you tell her?”

  “I couldn’t come up with a reason to tell her you wouldn’t.”

  She digs through her suitcase. “I guess you didn’t want to tell her I was having issues because you screwed around with another woman a week after I left.”

  She isn’t going to forgive me for this. I already know it. I’ve hurt her too badly and now I fall into that category of assholes with the others—her mum, her dad, Blake.

  She chooses her clothes and then looks at me. “I need my best friend right now.”

  I don’t know Addison well and I have no idea how she’ll advise Laurelyn. I’m inclined to think she won’t encourage her to cut me any slack based on the brief conversation we had when she warned me about not hurting her best friend. “I know, and I’ll make it happen if that’s what you want.”

  “I’ll call Addison. If she’s willing to come, we’ll stay here instead of Avalon and I’ll do the shopping thing with your family. I can’t afford to lose a day of preparation if I decide to go through with marrying you.”

  I cannot believe she is going to stay and continue to make plans for our wedding. Surely, that is a good sign—the first one I’ve gotten. “I’ll have Daniel drive her over.”

  “I’ll call Margaret and make plans for today, but I expect you to be gone when I get back.”

  Damn! That was cold enough to cancel out any perceived positive vibe. “Don’t worry. I will be.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Laurelyn Prescott

  It’s an utterly miserable day for me. What should be the happiest moments of my life are overshadowed by the discovery of what Jack Henry did with that woman. I can’t get it out of my head because I have a face for her. I wish I didn’t.

  Aside from crazy Audrey, I have the luxury of not knowing what the others look like, and I’m fine with that. I’m not naïve. I realize this will probably happen again if I marry him. I could possibly run into the others who came before me, but I’m prepared to handle the priors. I can even deal with the crazy shit Audrey dishes out, but this one who came after me is a kick in the ass. And a stab in the heart.

  Chloe is holding two bridesmaids gowns for me to look at and I realize I completely spaced out when I hear Margaret ask, “Honey, do you not feel well?”

  No. I don’t feel well at all, but it has nothing to do with being sick. I just can’t handle being here picking out things for a wedding that might not happen. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m quite over that migraine. Would it be all right if we postponed today’s shopping until another day? And Chloe… maybe we can do the sampling next weekend?”

  “Of course. Please don’t apologize.” She returns the dresses to the rack. “We’ll come back when you’re feeling better, and it’s not a problem to wait about the food. That will give me a little longer to think about the cake.”

  I feel so guilty for lying to these precious women. The thought of not being Margaret’s daughter-in-law, along with Chloe and Emma’s sister-in-law, absolutely kills me. I almost wonder if I’d marry Jack Henry just to be part of his wonderful family. I truly love them as my own—more than my own. “I should feel better tomorrow.”

  Margaret and Chloe drop me off at the apartment and Jack Henry’s car isn’t in the garage, so I know he’s gone as I requested. Okay, demanded. At least he’s smart enough to listen.

  I go inside and immediately see the ginormous bouquet of white roses and the letter beside them on the coffee table. I sigh, inhaling their beauty. I want to pick them up and chuck them in the trash. Or at Jack Henry’s head. The latter would probably give me far more satisfaction.

  I hold the letter in my hands. I dread opening it. I know it’s going to say things that will tear my heart out—that’s the intention, right? To get me to stay and marry him.

  I plop down on the couch and pull out the single folded piece of paper and look at his lovely penmanship, comparable to calligraphy. It shouldn’t belong to a man but it does—a beautiful one who I love.

  My Beautiful American Girl,

  You’ll never know how much it pains me to know I’ve hurt you. I vowed to never be that person—an addition to the list of people you can’t trust because of the heartache they’ve caused you. You’re hurting because of me, and I can never tell you how truly sorry I am for that. You asked for time away from me and as much as I want to deny you that request, I’m going to give you this time apart because it’s what you ask of me. Please know that every second I’m away from you is punishment. I love and adore you with all my heart, and this strife between us is torment.

  I chose to give you white roses, instead of red, because they symbolize my untainted love for you. Our relationship clearly began with a passion worthy of blood-red roses but has grown into so much more than I ever dreamed possible. Our love is spiritual and pure in nature. It is eternal, undying, and sustaining.

  It is my prayer in a desperate hour that you forgive me. I love you with every fiber of my being and to live without you by my side could never be more wrong. I once thought I had it all, but now I can’t imagine my world without you. That place no longer exists for me. You are my beloved, now and always. Please give me the chance to prove my undying affection.

  Forever and always, Your Jack Henry

  * * *

  I’m crying before the end of the first sentence and sobbing by the third. In my heart I know he didn’t mean to hurt me, but that does nothing to stop the pain or the images I see in my head—the ones where he’s in bed naked with that woman. I wish it would stop, but I don’t know how to make that happen. That’s how I spend the next couple of hours until Addison arrives—sitting on the couch, strumming my guitar in hopes of getting it all out of my head.