Page 53 of Terms + Conditions
Noah nods. “I tried to keep it from them, but you know my mom. She has a way of getting things out of you, and when I told them…At first, they tried to say I should make it work, but when Mom found out Gi is pregnant.” A heavy sigh. “It was the final straw.”
“They never seemed that fond of her to begin with.” I take a sip of my coffee making sure to avoid the chipped section of the rim.
“Mom has always been skeptical of anyone I bring home. Once people find out you have that kind of money it changes things. You get it, being related to the Villas.”
Being related to Elizabeth alone is enough to make someone understand.
“Georgie doesn’t know it yet. So, I would appreciate your discretion about it.”
“You haven’t told her? Shit, Noah!”
“No.” He groans. “I hadn’t decided until a few days ago. I’ve been trying to make it work, but I can’t get past it. And I didn’t want to ruin her weekend with you guys. What a downer to the party, y’know?”
Oh, trust me, I know all about that.
“When we get home, we’ll have that conversation. Truthfully, I think she knows it’s coming.”
“There you are!” Elijah shouts as he and Jeremy get closer to us. I didn’t even notice them come outside. “What are you guys doing out here? Breakfast is ready.”
“That was fast,” I say to Jeremy. When I left, he was still struggling. “Give up on the shapes?”
“The girls took over. Their shapes put mine to shame.”
“I need a refill anyway,” Noah says, standing from his chair. “Thanks again, Josh.” Patting my shoulder gently, he walks back to the house, and his words from moments ago strike a chord in me.
Was Ryan’s choice to want to work things out with Elizabeth because of her relation to the Villas? Because of her own wealth? It wouldn’t be hard to do a little digging and figure out that kind of information.
The thought of him only wanting to fix things between them because of this sudden revelation leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
There’s something about this guy I don’t like, and it’s not just because he’s dating my wife. Not to mention, Nina doesn’t like him. That’s what Nick says anyway. So, why is Elizabeth so adamant about pursuing this relationship with him? I doubt she’d tell me anything if I asked…
“What was that about?” Elijah asks, looking back from Noah’s retreating figure.
“Oh, nothing,” I lie with a tight-lipped smile. “He was just asking me a quick marketing question. C’mon, let’s go before they steal all the good pancakes.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
NOW
I WAS GOING TO skip my run today, but after the news that Noah just dropped, I need one. I need time to think—time to process—time away from the others. Before I can pull my sweater on, Elizabeth walks into the room without warning, and her eyes are immediately drawn to my bare chest. When she finally looks up, her cheeks turn bright red, caught. “G-going somewhere?”
Finally pulling my sweater over my head, I nod. “Gonna head down to the beach for a run.”
“How about a walk and some company, instead?” She bites down on her lip before offering a shy smile. I want to say no. I need this alone time—it’s the little bit of peace I get away from the craziness—but somewhere deep inside, there’s a voice screamingyes. Telling me I shouldn’t miss out on this chance, the one I’ve been hoping for. The chance to smooth things over between us before we end up making family events awkward for the rest of eternity.
“Sure.” The word is a little skeptical, a little colder than I meant for it to be, but I’m still not set on letting her come.
Elizabeth runs into the closet and returns, pulling an oversized sweater over her head, and whether she realizes itor not, it’s one of mine. The Chadwick University design has faded substantially over the years, but it’s still unmistakable. She adjusts her ponytail, slips her feet into her sandals, and grabs her camera from its bag. This is the first time I’ve seen her with it all weekend; normally, it’s hanging around her neck like another appendage as she snaps photo after photo to preserve the memories. When she’s finished adjusting herself, she stands at attention. “Ready!”
I can’t help but chuckle, opening the door to let her go first.
We’ve been walking for almost an hour and it has been mostly silent, aside from the occasional snap of her camera shutter and the beating of the waves against the cold, wet sand. She left her sandals back at the house, letting her toes sink into the sand with a sharp intake of breath, and I laughed as she did a small dance, trying to get adjusted to the cool grains. Thankfully, the sun had finally managed about twenty minutes into our stroll, winning the fight against the clouds and fighting off a bit of the chill in the air.
There’s a lot we need to talk about, but I don’t know where to start.
The snap of the camera captures my attention, and looking over, I see the lens pointed straight at me.
“Sorry.” Her voice is soft like the smile on her lips. “It was the perfect shot. I couldn’t resist.”
