Irresistible: Cloverleigh Farms Standalone Read online

  How had I let this happen?

  Sitting at the bar, Woods and I caught up over local IPAs, wings, burgers, and fries. He told me how things were going for him downstate, about his job as groundskeeper for a country club, and the work he was doing on their house. He also grumbled a fair amount about the cost and planning of the wedding and said he’d be glad when it was all over. “I can’t fucking look at another flower, cake, or seating arrangement,” he said. “Seriously, just shoot me first.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  “Yes. I have absolutely no opinions on that shit and she doesn’t seem to understand that. It’s like she takes it personally. I tell her all I care about is that we walk out of there married. She could wear a paper bag for all I care.”

  “Oh, Jesus.” I shook my head. “You did not say that to her.”

  “I did. She was not pleased with me.” He took another sip of his beer and set the glass down. “So when are you gonna tell me what’s up with you?”

  I picked up my beer and frowned into it. There was no use pretending with Woods. We knew each other too well. “I think I fucked up.”

  “I’m sure you did.”

  I tried to smile, but couldn’t.

  “Shit. You’re serious. Is it one of the kids?”

  “No.” I took a few swallows and set the glass down. “It’s Frannie Sawyer.”

  “Frannie Sawyer? What about her?”

  I looked over at him. Met his eyes but said nothing.

  He got it in a heartbeat. “Jesus. Did you?”

  Lifting my glass again, I nodded. “Yeah. I did. Multiple times. It’s sort of an ongoing fuck-up.”

  “Shit.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “How old is she?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s not bad. Are you worried about Sawyer?”

  “I’m worried about a lot of things.” I shook my head. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, starting something with her. I don’t have time for a girlfriend. I barely have time to piss with the bathroom door shut.”

  Woods laughed. “I bet.”

  “It’s impossible to be alone with her. The kids are always around.”

  Woods ran a hand through his hair. “She’s probably great with the kids, though.”

  “Yeah,” I said dully. “They’re crazy about her.”

  “Do they know about the two of you?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. It’s only been a few weeks. But it’s getting harder and harder to keep it from them, especially since she’s at the house a few days a week. And I know she wants to tell them.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No. I don’t want them to feel like they’re getting less of me, I don’t want to throw a major wrench into their lives when we’re finally doing okay, and I don’t want them to get attached to the idea that she’s going to be around forever,” I said, getting worked up. “Because she’s not.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Why would she be? I can’t give her what she wants.”

  He sipped his beer again. “What does she want that you can’t give her?”

  “Time. Attention. A future. I know for a fact she wants a husband and kids. I can’t be that guy. I’m never getting married again.”

  “Have you told her that?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m an asshole.”

  “Well, sure, but …”

  I couldn’t even laugh. “Because I don’t want to give her up. It’s so wrong on so many levels, I know it is, but it’s also so fucking good. Not just the sex, either, although that part is unbelievable. She’s all young and hot and”—I struggled for the right word—“enthusiastic.”

  Woods burst out laughing. “You definitely don’t want unenthusiastic sex.”

  “But that’s what I was used to. Uninspiring, unexciting, unenthusiastic, obligatory sex with someone who didn’t actually give a shit about me. She never even knew me.”

  “No?”

  I shook my head. “No, everything spun out of control so fast when Carla got pregnant, and I did three tours practically back to back, and suddenly we had three kids, a mortgage, and a stockpile of weapons to use against each other.”

  “That’s tough.”

  I took another drink of my beer. “It was always all about Carla—what she wanted, what she wasn’t getting, what I was doing wrong as a husband. With Frannie, it’s so different. She wants to know me. She’s so easy to be with. She loves the girls. She puts up with a lot of shit that no one else would. And …” I took a deep breath. “She cooks. She fucking comes over and cooks for us because I’m too clueless and exhausted to figure out how to feed my kids healthy food at the end of the day.”

  “Sounds like maybe you should keep her around.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t keep letting her waste all this time on me. There are too many complications, between the kids and Carla making things difficult at every turn, and what people will say and what she wants for the future.”

  “What will people say?” Woods asked.

  “You know. They’ll just gossip.” I ran a hand through my hair. “They’ll say I’m fucking the nanny, and she’s so much younger, and my divorce is barely final, and it’s not fair to the kids, and I’m just taking advantage of her, and—”

  “Fuck that,” Woods stated emphatically. “Anyone who knows you will know that’s complete bullshit. And since when have you ever cared what people say?”

  “I can’t take that attitude where the kids and Frannie are concerned. This isn’t just about me.”

  Woods exhaled and lifted his glass to his mouth. After a long drink, he set it down and looked at me. “Do you remember what you said to me after I broke things off with Stella?”

  “That you were being a dipshit?”

  “Yeah, and you are too, by the way, but you also said something else that I always remembered.”

  I sat up taller. “What?”

  “You said something like, ‘If I had someone I trusted, who understood me and baked pies for me, and the sex was even marginal, I’d marry her tomorrow.”

  Frowning, I slumped over again. “But our situations are not similar at all. I meant I’d do that if I were you. I’ve got kids to think about.”

  Woods gave me a look that called bullshit, but he didn’t say anything. He just picked up his beer and took another drink.

  “And I’m thinking of Frannie, too. I’m letting her believe this can go somewhere when I know it can’t. And the longer this goes on, the worse it’s going to be for everyone involved when it ends. The girls are already too attached to her. It’s dangerous to be that attached to someone.”

  “So what are you gonna do?”

  My gut twisted. “I have to break it off. For the kids’ sake.”

  Woods was silent a moment. Then he said, “You do what you’ve gotta do, Mack. I just want to say one more thing, and then I’ll shut up. Because this is probably going to piss you off, but we all need that one asshole in our life who says what needs to be said.”

  I gave him the side eye. “What?”

  “Are you doing this because the girls are too attached to her? Or because you are?”

  I sat up taller. “Fuck off. I’m not doing this for me.”

  He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I know you guys have been through a lot, and I’m not a father, so I don’t know what that’s like. If you’re that sure things can never work out with her, go ahead and break it off.”

  “I’m sure,” I said, the knot in my stomach thickening. “I have to break it off.”

  The moment I saw her at the rehearsal the next day, my heart seized and my breath stopped and my legs didn’t want to move. I was standing at the back of the wedding barn, where the ceremony was going to take place, and she came over with a big smile on her face.

  “Hey, you,” she said. “How was your night out with the guys?”

  “It was fine.” I could hardly
look her in the eye.

  “What did you do?”

  “Just had a few beers. Some food.”

  “No strip clubs?” she teased. “Not that there are any within a hundred miles.”

  I couldn’t even smile. “No.”

  “Did you get in late?”

  “Not too late.” I hesitated. “Sorry I didn’t call. I was tired, I guess.” God, this was torture. I didn’t know where to look, so I stared at the ground between our feet.

  “Did you ask your parents about staying over tomorrow night?” she asked hopefully.

  “Oh, uh … not yet.” Fuck. What the hell was I going to do about that? How could I stay with her knowing what I was going to do? I already felt like the biggest jerk on the planet. That would just make it worse.

  “Is everything okay, Mack?” She sounded confused, and I didn’t blame her.

  “Yeah. I’m just … you know. Busy.” It was bullshit. The rehearsal hadn’t even started yet.

  “Oh. Okay, well, I won’t keep you. Just wanted to say hi.”

  I nodded, feeling like fucking dirt, and she gave me one last smile before walking away, but it wasn’t a happy smile. It was nervous and tentative, and I hated myself for it.

  But that was nothing compared to the following night.

  Mack

  Three pairs of eyes watched me knot the deep burgundy tie around my neck. My hair was trimmed, my shave was close, my navy suit fit perfectly. On the outside, everything was perfect.

  On the inside, I was a mess.

  “You look nice, Daddy,” said Felicity. All three girls were lying across my bed on their bellies, studying me as I finished getting ready for the wedding.

  “Thanks.” But my tie was crooked. Frowning, I loosened the knot and tried again.

  “I wish we could come to the wedding,” said Millie.

  “Adults only,” I told her.

  “I know, but I want to see the bride. Frannie said she’d send me some pictures.” She sighed dramatically. “I’ve never been to a wedding.”

  My mother appeared in the doorway. “My goodness, don’t you look handsome,” she said, leaning on the frame with her arms folded.

  “Thank you.” I dropped my arms to my side. “I guess I’m ready.” But I didn’t want to leave.

  “What time is the ceremony?” she asked.

  “Four. Then pictures, then cocktails, then dinner.” I recited the bare bones plan that Woods had given to me. By contrast, the women all had three-page, color-coded itineraries for today.

  “Better get going,” my mother said. “It’s nearly two and it’s snowing again. Are you staying at the inn tonight?”

  I frowned at my reflection and tugged at the knot again. My collar was a little tight. “Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

  “Just do it.” She came into the room and turned me to face her, fussing with my tie. “That way you can relax and enjoy yourself without worrying about the roads or having a few drinks or whatever. You can stay and be social. Ask someone to dance. Be charming and make conversation.”

  The girls giggled, and I gave them the stink eye before pushing my mother’s hands away. “Okay, enough. I have to go.”

  “Bye, Daddy!” All three hopped off the bed and accosted me for hugs as I tried to get out the door. “Have fun!”

  I hugged and kissed them, gave my mother a peck on the cheek, waved at my dad, who was on the couch watching football, and hustled out the back door.

  On the drive to Cloverleigh, which was shitty because of the snow, I made up my mind that I was not going to spend the night with Frannie. It was too selfish. I’d make up some excuse why I had to go home, and then tomorrow, maybe we could talk.

  And then I saw her.

  Around quarter to four, she poked her head into the room the groomsmen were using at the inn to wait for the ceremony to begin. “Everybody decent?”

  “Come on in,” Woods called.

  Frannie entered the room, and my knees almost buckled. She wore a black velvet dress that clung to her curves for dear life. It had short sleeves, a deep V neck, and hit her right at the knees. She wore spiky black high heels with an ankle strap and her gold-threaded hair was loose and wavy, flowing over one shoulder. I had to stop myself from rushing over to her and burying my face in it.

  “It’s time,” she said, smiling at us with deep red lips. “I have instructions to come get you guys and take you over to the barn.”

  “Finally.” Woods looked excited to take action. “Got the rings?” he asked me.

  I patted my pocket. “Got ‘em.”

  On the walk over to the barn, we had to go outside, and I hung back to fall in step next to Frannie. “You look gorgeous,” I told her. “But you must be freezing. Take my coat.” I slipped out of my suit coat and draped it over her shoulders.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling shyly at me. “You look nice, too.”

  “How are you?” I asked.

  “Fine.” She looked up ahead at Woods, who was practically running toward the barn, and laughed. “He’s so excited.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m so happy for him. For both of them.” Then she sighed. “And I’m envious too.”

  “Because you want to get married?”

  “Well, yes, eventually. But I guess I’m mostly envious that it seems so easy for them to be together. I wish it was like that for us. Can you stay tonight?” She gave me a hopeful smile.

  I frowned and pulled the door to the barn open for her, torn between what I wanted to do and what I should do. But either way, this wasn’t the time to deal with that. “I think so.”

  Her smile widened, and her eyes danced with light. “Good. Okay, take your coat. I’m going to go let April know you’re here. Don’t move.”

  I watched her walk away and felt like shit. I stood by my best friend as he married the love of his life and felt like shit. I watched them speak their vows, slide rings on each other’s fingers, share their first kiss as husband and wife—and every moment made me feel worse.

  Because I knew that Frannie was watching too, and I saw her wide-eyed with wonder, tearful with emotion, smiling with joy. She was probably dreaming of the day she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm, radiant with happiness just like Stella was, her future husband waiting to take her hand, to begin a new life, to start a family. I could never give her that. I could never give her anything. I couldn’t even kiss her in front of the kids.

  As the evening unfolded, I grew more and more ill at ease. I forced a smile in pictures. I barely touched my dinner. I watched stiffly from my place at the head table as the bride and groom danced for the first time, nursing a second glass of scotch.

  Frannie was sitting with her family, and I saw her looking at me from across the room throughout the meal, but I never made eye contact. It was killing me to know that I had to break her heart. And I didn’t want to do it tonight, but I wasn’t sure I could take any more of this. I’d never been someone who put off doing what needed to be done. Why prolong this torture?

  After cake was served and the dancing began, she wandered over to where I sat with a glass of champagne in her hand.

  “Hey,” she said, offering a smile.

  “Hey.”

  “Didn’t you like the cake?” She gestured at my dessert plate, which was still full. I hadn’t taken a bite.

  “I’m not that hungry.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “I’ve never heard you say that before. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Actually, not really.” I loosened the knot in my tie. “I’m a little warm.”

  “Well, I was coming over to see if you wanted to dance, but maybe you’d like to get some air instead?”

  “Uh, yeah. Air would be good.”

  She set her champagne down on the table. “Let me grab my coat from the back.”

  “You can wear mine.” I shrugged it from my shoulders and she turned around to slip her arms into the too-long sleeves.

  “Thanks.” She wrapp
ed her arms around herself. “Mmm. It’s nice and warm.” She sniffed the collar. “And it smells good.”

  The queasy feeling in my gut intensified as we walked to the back of the barn and snuck out through the doors leading to the covered patio. In the summertime, wedding guests would have been out here as well, but since it was February, we had it to ourselves.

  Frannie breathed in and exhaled, creating a little white cloud in the icy dark. “Whew, it was warm in there.”

  “Yeah.” Sticking my hands in my pockets, I took a few deep breaths too, hoping they’d calm my fraying nerves.

  “You’re not off the hook, though. I still want to dance with you.” She elbowed me gently.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  She turned to face me. “Why not?”

  “Because …” I forced myself to say words I didn’t feel in my heart. “I think we should slow down. Cool off.”

  She shook her head slightly. “What? Where is this coming from?”

  “I’ve just been thinking we’re moving a little too fast.”

  “Since when?”

  I shrugged. “Last week.”

  “I don’t understand. On Wednesday in your office, things were fine. I’ve hardly seen you since.”

  “That’s part of the problem, Frannie. We can’t even see each other. It’s too hard with all the sneaking around. And it’s not fair to you.”

  Again, she shook her head, and tears glistened in her eyes. “I’ve told you a hundred times, I don’t mind.”

  “Well, I do. I can’t keep doing it. It’s making me feel like shit. I can’t be what you deserve and what my kids need. I just can’t. I feel like I’m being torn in two.”

  “But Mack,” she said, a tear dripping down her cheek. “I’m in love with you. I can’t just walk away.”

  I felt it like a sledgehammer to the chest. “Don’t say that. It’ll only make things worse.”