Page 32 of I Choose You
Claire: It’s fine. He’s just being Will. He’ll get the message eventually.
Reid: Tell him you’re seeing someone else. Maybe that will get him to back off.
Claire: I already lied to my mother about having a date and then showed up alone. I don’t think lying to Will will do me any good. But thanks
Reid: Do you think having a date would have helped? Not that it should matter if the jackass had any fucking respect.
Claire: Probably, but I’ll handle it on my own.
I typed out another message, my finger hovering over the Send button. We had certainly become closer ever since the tree lighting ceremony, but I wasn’t sure if we were at the friendly banter stage. Would he think I was trying to flirt with him?
Was I trying to flirt with him? Maybe a little.
Will was smiling and charming my father from the seat next to me. He had draped his arm over the back of my chair. I pulled myself forward so he wouldn’t touch me and caught my father’s hard stare. So rather than leaning forward to create as much distance as possible between me and Will’s hand or sitting back and risking Will’s touch on my skin, I sat tall and straight.
With my phone discreetly on my lap, I pressed the Send button.
Claire: Unless you were planning on making the drive here to save me
Reid didn’t respond right away, so I put my phone away to avoid being rude. It had been a long day, and I was getting tired. I waited until I saw a few people leave, then followed suit, thanking the couple and saying goodbyeto my parents.
I crashed onto my bed at my parents’ house, barely taking the time to take off my dress and shoes. I looked at my phone for the fiftieth time to see if I’d missed a reply from Reid. I hadn’t.
11
Reid
I put my truck in park and looked around. This was a bad idea.
The sun was bright overhead, my sunglasses shielding my eyes. Not that I could see much of anything. The large iron gate stopped me from going any further. Past that gate, the winding driveway curved away, leaving only a privacy fence of manicured arborvitaes. I had the strongest desire to turn around and drive the four-plus hours right back home. But I just couldn’t make myself do it. Something was telling me that I needed to be here. For her.
The intercom crackled when I called to the attendant, introducing myself as a guest of Claire’s. A buzz sounded, and the gate opened. They must have had cameras positioned at the gate. I wondered what they thought of Claire’s friend in the dirty work truck showing up out of the blue.
I followed the stone paver path up to the house like it was the yellow-brick road.
Holy shit.
House was a severe understatement. This place was amansion. We had some fancy houses in Calla Bay. Being a coastal town, it tended to bring in some wealthy folks who wanted the water view, but there was nothing in Calla Bay that looked like this. Sprawling lawns surrounded a stately white-and-gray estate. A fountain was positioned in the middle of the driveway, creating a circle around it for the cars. A fucking fountain.
No other cars were parked in the front of the house, but that didn’t feel like it was my problem. Before I made it to the front door, it was opened by a man in a suit jacket. My first thought was that this was Senator DeLuca. I probably should have found a picture of him when I was googling to get this address.
“Mr. Wilder, welcome. Ms. DeLuca is finishing up in the dining room presently. I’ll let her know you’ve arrived.”
The fuck was this? Was he, like, a butler?
“Thanks, man.” I stepped past him into the spacious foyer. A set of curved stairs wound their way to the second floor. To the right was an office or maybe a small library. To the left was a large parlor with what looked like a dining room on the other side of it.
As it turned out, the butler didn’t need to let Claire know I was here. She walked out of the dining room, looking over her shoulder as she talked to whoever was in the room with her. When she faced forward, her steps faltered, her jaw hanging open. She looked me over, taking me in from head to toe.
When I got dressed this morning, I hadn’t realized that my drive would take me here. It was more impulsive than something I had planned. Hence the work jeans and hoodie. I wasn’t sure if this house had seen someone of the likes of me since it was being built.
“Reid.” She said my name like she was in awe. My blood started pumping, specifically to a certain region of my body. She needed to stop looking at me like that. “What are you doing here?”
I stood stock-still as she came toward me. That was a good question. What was I doing here? Sure, last night, she’d made it sound like being without a date was causing some issues with her ex, and that text she sent was basically an invite. Right? I’d had four hours on the way over here to change my mind. Hell, I could have turned my truck around at the gate. There were so many opportunities for me to not be standing here, in her parents’ glamorous mansion, staring at a woman I’d barely tolerated just a few short weeks ago.
I pushed my hand through my hair and sucked in a lungful of air. “You said you needed a date. So here I am.” I was conscious of the fact that we weren’t alone. The butler guy was still in the foyer, watching us. I could see someone in the doorway to the dining room in my peripheral vision, but I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from Claire to look up.
Ever since last Friday, when shit went down at the Cove’s End, I had spent a lot of time with Claire. After I got her set up at Wyatt’s, I picked up some groceries and brought them back to the house for her. During the week, we worked together on some designs, and even if we weren’t working together, we were working in tandem, always revolving around each other. After work, I would check in on her, which turned out to be a smart move. She didn’t sleep well that first night in the house, too quiet and unfamiliar, so on Sunday night, I slept on Wyatt’s couch so she wouldn’t be alone.
