Falling for Mister Wrong (34 page)

Andy was sitting out front in a wheelchair,
his injured leg propped out straight in front of him, face tipped
up to soak in the unseasonably warm sun.

Will slammed the Jeep into park, launched
himself out of the driver’s side and stalked up to him.

“Will, hey…”

His fist slammed into Andy’s face, knuckles
splitting against teeth. They both swore, Will cradling his hand
and Andy spitting blood.

“Feel better?” Andy said, gingerly testing
his teeth with his tongue to see if they were all still
attached.

“Not really. I kind of feel like a dick for
punching a guy in a wheelchair.”

“Even if I deserved it? I was surprised you
didn’t come after me months ago.”

Andy’s nose was bent in two places—once from
where he’d done a facer into a chairlift pole and once from a brawl
they’d gotten into with some boarders when they were seventeen and
stupid. He’d always been able to take a hit and keep on
kicking.

“Even then.”

“I’m sorry,” Andy began and Will cut him
off.

“Stop. I don’t want to do that. I can’t do
that yet.”

“I want to apologize. I have this whole
speech. I’ve been rehearsing it for, like, months.”

Will just stared down at him. Andy. Still the
same old loveable screw-up. “You love her.”

Andy winced. “Yeah.”

Yeah, well, I loved her too, asshole
.
It would have been easier if he hadn’t. If it had just been a
stupid infatuation. If he’d just gotten carried away in the moment.
But he hadn’t. He’d loved her. It may not have been the same kind
of down to the bone connection he felt for Caitlyn, but he’d really
loved her. “Well, you got the girl,” he rasped. “Your stupid love
story ripped out my fucking heart.”

“I know,” Andy said hoarsely. “I hated myself
this year. Tria says I’m trying to kill myself. Taking stupid
chances because if I get hurt, I deserve it, right? We both deserve
it—”

“Shut up.”

Andy swallowed audibly, but his mouth snapped
shut.

Will stared down at his friend, absently
rubbing his knuckles. He didn’t want Tria anymore, but what they’d
done still burned like acid. The two people he’d trusted most
outside his family had each put a hand on the knife and stabbed it
into his back. He was justified in being angry about it. Justified
in holding a grudge. But maybe justification wasn’t enough.

Maybe it was time to loosen the stranglehold
he had on his anger and make room for something else in his heart.
Someone
else.

“Look. We’re not going to hug it out and be
best buds or anything, but I’m gonna work on not being so mad at
you and you need to knock off the stupid risky shit. I’m the one
who gets to be pissed. You’re the one who got the girl. So keep
her, you idiot. You broke my fucking heart. Fine. Now make it worth
it. Make her so happy I’m happy for you even when I want to knock
your teeth in. Understand? Don’t waste this.”

Andy nodded jerkily, jaw working.

Will turned away—and saw Tria, standing in
the crook of her open car door a few feet away. He hadn’t even
heard her pull up. He didn’t know how much she’d seen and heard,
but he’d had about as much closure as he could take today. He
jerked his chin at her, wordlessly, and walked back to his car.

It wasn’t exactly a bundle of puppies and
rainbows, but it was a start.

Now if only Caitlyn would come home.

Chapter
Forty-Two

The driver helped her unload her bag. Just
the one bag this time. She’d been in LA less than a week. She could
have managed the roller-bag herself, but her hands were full.
Gerbera daisies. Giant happy flowers. Will had said they were his
favorite.

She’d never brought a man flowers before. But
then she’d never tried to woo anyone either. Never ridden a bull…
never fallen in love… Will was just a font of new experiences.

The door flew open when she was still five
feet away from it. Will stood framed by the doorway, wild and dark
and gorgeous, like Heathcliff on the freaking moors.

“I heard the car,” he said, without moving
from the doorway, his eyes drinking her in just as greedily as she
was doing to him. “How was your trip?”

Behind her, she felt the driver hesitate,
probably trying to figure out what the hell to do with her suitcase
now that she’d frozen into a statue, but she couldn’t tear her eyes
off Will.

“I told everyone in America that I was
falling for you.”

“I saw.”

He didn’t move, and her hopes, which had been
so high when he ran to greet her, began to waver. Was he still
angry about the lying? She was ready to grovel. She’d come prepared
to woo, damn it.

Caitlyn hitched up her hopes and the flowers.
“Are you going to let me in?”

He blinked, glancing around as if suddenly
realizing he was blocking the door. If he heard the double meaning
in the words, he didn’t show it. “I spoke to Tria,” he blurted.
“And Andy. Worked some things out.”

And her hopes took another nosedive.
“What?”

Was he getting back together with his ex?
She’d suspected he might still be in love with her. A shiver of
dread worked down her arms. His eyes locked on the slight
movement.

“Shit, you’re cold. Come inside.”

It wasn’t cold out with the sun beating down.
The temperature in the parking lot would have suited Los Angeles,
but she didn’t argue as Will reached past her to take her bag from
the driver, trading it for a tip and ushering her into the dark,
windowless foyer and up the stairs.

She unlocked the door and it was the most
natural thing in the world for the two of them to go inside
together. Sometime in the last two months her place had started to
feel like
theirs.
At least it had to her. She was terrified
that they weren’t on the same page at all. They’d had one fight—and
it had been a doozie—and then she’d had to go. She’d been such a
mess she hadn’t even remembered to bring her cell phone.

Will set her bag down next to the door. “Who
gave you the flowers?”

She blushed, awkwardly shuffling the bouquet
from one hand to the other. “Um, I got them for you actually. I
know it’s silly, but you said you like them and I thought, why are
girls the only ones who get flowers, right?”

For a moment he didn’t react, then a smile
broke out over his face like sunshine bursting into her heart.
“Don’t move,” he said. “I got something for you.”

Please God, let it be another mix
tape.
She’d bought a portable CD player and listened to the mix
non-stop on the flight.

He was out the door before she could blink,
leaving her there, still holding the flowers. He was gone less than
a minute before he burst back in, holding a rectangular package,
like a department store shirt box. “Happy Independence Day.”

“It’s March.”

“Independence from the show.”

He thrust it at her and they awkwardly
exchanged—flowers for box. He barely looked at the daisies,
watching her intently, something a little manic in his
expression—which was making her insanely nervous. She felt like
something massive must have happened while she was away.

“You said you talked to Tria?”

He nodded jerkily. “Yeah. Well, mostly I
talked to Andy. And punched him. It was good. Not the punching. The
talking.”

He was babbling. Will never babbled. She was
the babbler in the relationship.

He jutted his chin at the package. “Are you
going to open it?”

Almost afraid to see what was inside, Caitlyn
moved to the piano, resting the box on the top as she peeled off
the ribbon holding it shut. Will followed, hovering nearby, but
just out of touching distance.

She pulled off the box top.

Sheet music. Beethoven’s Pathetique Sonata.
Her throat closed.

“I know you already have it. Look
inside.”

She pulled back the cover and there, on the
first page, taped right over the first note on the page, was a
ring.

It wasn’t the Rock of Ages. There was nothing
showy or flashy about it. It was delicate, a small stone in an
intricate, almost antique-looking setting. Lovely.

A ring
.

Caitlyn swung to gape at Will.

“You can say no,” he said, the sentence so
fast it almost sounded like one word. “I know we haven’t known one
another that long and you’re probably sick of guys proposing to
you. But that’s when you had me. From the first note. You asked me
if I believed in love at first sight and I think I joked about it,
but you had me from… okay, not from hello, I’m not gonna say that,
but from the very first second I heard you and saw you and touched
you and kissed you. Every single first dug another hook into my
heart and the seconds and thirds just drove you deeper. Even that
freaking ridiculous wedding veil. And I know I freaked out about
that perfect guy and this is probably the last thing you want to
hear right now. My sisters told me this was a dumbass plan. They
said I should apologize first and let you breathe. Did I remember
to apologize? I don’t care about the show or you making me the
Other Man—though I wish you’d told me and you have to tell me stuff
like that in the future, if we have a future—”

She’d never seen him spaz out like this. It
was kind of adorable. Her big strong fire-fighter completely losing
his shit. “So you forgive me?” she interrupted, needing to hear him
say those words.

“God, yes! Nothing to forgive, but I would
forgive you anything.”

She almost laughed at his colorful choice of
words, but didn’t want him to think she was laughing at him. Not
when he was so adorably earnest. And completely unraveled.

“Shit. I’m not doing this right.” He dropped
to one knee—and her urge to laugh evaporated as her heart swelled
in her chest. Wow. Just seeing him down there… that had to be one
of the hottest sights on earth.

“Will…”

“I know I’m screwing this up. I had this
whole speech planned and then I got distracted and I don’t know
which parts I said, so let me just repeat. I love you. Please marry
me. Or tell me you’re not ready to answer yet because it’s too
soon, I get that, I’m rushing it, I always rush things, but I mean
every word. And I’m so sorry. I could cut off my tongue for making
you cry.”

“Don’t. I like your tongue.”

His eyes filled with fragile hope. “I don’t
want to pressure you. I don’t want you saying yes when you aren’t
sure, because we’ve both been bitten by that before—”

“Will.” She bent and pressed a palm to his
cheek. “You can stop talking now.”

“Caitlyn…”

She set her lips over his, shutting the poor
man up with a kiss. When she pulled back, she lingered to whisper
the word against his lips. “Yes.”

He sucked in a breath. “Are you sure? Because
I know it’s fast—”

“It’s perfect,” she whispered, looking into
those gorgeous eyes with their sinner lashes. “I think I needed
something fake so I would know the real deal when it came along.
You’re it, Will. You’re my fairy tale. I don’t know when I fell in
love with you—though I suspect it probably had something to do with
all the chocolate you kept feeding me.” He chuckled and she
grinned. “I came home with a whole elaborate plan to woo you and
propose to
you
, so you’d know for sure I wasn’t saying yes
for the wrong reasons like last time.”

“Oh. We can do that too. I’m very open to
being wooed.”

She laughed, feeling the fizzy champagne
delight in her blood that only ever seemed to happen when she was
with him. “I love you. Now get up here and kiss me properly.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He stood, bent her over the piano, and kissed
her—very
im
properly indeed.

Her hands were shaking when he slipped the
ring on—and it was perfect.

Epilogue

Caitlyn lay on the couch in the circle of her
fiancé’s arms, twisting her hand from side to side to admire her
ring—his grandmother’s, which he had never given to Tria—from every
possible angle.

Her fiancé. It sounded…
heavenly
. The
rightness of it settled around her as perfectly as his arms.

They lay in the shadow of their mountain and
she wondered how soon she could broach the idea of buying the
chalet. They could remodel it—combine the two apartments, turn the
downstairs into guest rooms and a storage area, though they’d have
to keep the bathroom down there since it was so much bigger than
the one upstairs and she had a real affection for that spacious
shower of his.
Very
fond memories.

She bit her lip. And his thumb immediately
reached up to rub the spot.

“What?” His voice rumbled through his chest
against her back.

After what he’d gone through with Tria, she
couldn’t ask him to buy a house with another fiancé, but she’d
promised no more lies. She shrugged, settling for the middle
ground. “I like it here. Of course I’ll like it anywhere with
you.”

“If I ever get that money back from Andy and
Tria, we should put in an offer on this place,” he said—just like
that. So easy and casual. And Caitlyn about melted. He trusted her.
That was so freaking hot.

“I actually have a little nest egg put by,”
she suggested tentatively. “From my performing days. If we wanted
to put in an offer on this place, we could.”

“How big a nest egg?” he asked, his hands
sneaking under the hem of her shirt. “Am I about to become a kept
man? Used shamelessly for my sexual prowess?”

“Maybe,” she purred, shifting to give him
better access, the better to show off his sexual prowess. “I was
thinking I might do the occasional performance too.”

“I thought you hated that life,” he murmured,
his mouth finding the good spots on the side of her neck.